Four Eyes Are Better Than Two

Old age comes to us all (if we’re lucky) and, as of today, I display another outward sign of the encroachment of the years on my life. Yes, at age 40, I finally wear glasses.

Not all the time, mind you. They’re just for reading and whenever I feel particularly tired. I’ll primarily use them for computer work and reading the newspaper.

A while ago, I had some code that wouldn’t run. I was getting a syntax error, but couldn’t find the problem, even after spending several minutes staring at the line of problematic code. Eventually, I noticed that I had a full-stop where I should have had a comma. That was my first hint that there was a problem.

While Sarah and Eloïse were in the USA, I caught myself squinting and tensing a lot of facial muscles to read the newspaper over lunch. The problem even seemed to get worse over the three weeks they were away, so I had my eyes tested as soon as they returned.

Sure enough, they needed correction, so I picked out some frames and the first pair was ready to pick up today.

After four decades, I’m finally sporting the distinguished, erudite look that has eluded me all my life.

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Cosmopolitan

Amsterdam is the most multicultural city in the world, it was announced yesterday. With 177 nationalities represented amongst its inhabitants, it leads the Flemish city of Antwerp, which is home to a mere 164. New York is in third place, with 150.

The population of the Dutch capital city is a mere 743,104, which perhaps makes its position at the top of the list all the more surprising. New York, by way of contrast, has 21,976,224 inhabitants. On the other hand, Antwerp has only [466,203](http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antwerpen_(stad)), making it even more impressive.

Of course, being multicultural says nothing about how well each of those cultures is integrated with the others. That’s an entirely different matter.

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Server Maintenance

In the absence of female distraction, I took the opportunity in recent weeks to upgrade all of the machines in the house to Fedora 7, including the MythTV box.

A couple of years ago, with a few weeks still to go before the birth of Eloïse, I took advantage of the calm before the storm to move my domain to dedicated hosting at managed.com. Unfortunately, and as I’ve documented in the past, that company turned out to be less than dedicated, so after a year, caliban.org ended up back in our cellar, hosted over a domestic DSL line.

With the girls out of the country for a while, the time was ripe to move the domain back out to dedicated hosting. The DSL line has been incredibly reliable, but there’s always the chance that it will go on the blink while we’re travelling. Moving house would also automatically mean downtime, which is out of the question when one is responsible for one’s own domain e-mail. Downtime means lots of bounced e-mail, not to mention an unreachable Web site.

I’d done my homework before the girls left for their trip, so with the new contract signed, the slow process of copying all of our files over the slow upstream DSL link to the new server began. The process wouldn’t be completed until approximately ten days later.

As you read this, all services have been migrated to the new machine (and have been for over a week).

For you, the user, there shouldn’t be much noticeable difference, except that browsing our photo gallery should be considerably faster than before. For me, however, it’s nice to know that the continuity of our e-mail and Web site is no longer tied to our home DSL being up.

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The Girls Are Back In Town

My girls are back home after three weeks in the US. It’s good to have them home.

Their return trip was a bit of a nightmare. They nearly ended up stranded in Washington, after missing their connecting flight to Amsterdam through no fault of their own. United Airlines really is a shitty company.

They were then supposed to fly via Frankfurt, but for some reason that will now never become apparent, they weren’t allowed to board that flight.

Eventually, after pleading with another member of staff, Sarah was able to secure two seats on a flight to London Heathrow. That’s the flight they eventually took, followed by a British Midland flight to Amsterdam. The diversion caused them to arrive in the middle of the afternoon instead of the early morning, so they were absolutely frazzled.

To top it all, one of their bags had been mislaid, so Sarah had to file a lost luggage form before she could leave the airport. When I called the company the next afternoon, I was told that the bag had been located at Heathrow and would be arriving that afternoon. I made an appointment to have it delivered to the house that evening and, thankfully, it managed to make that leg of its journey as scheduled. All’s well that ends well.

It was wonderful, but also strange to see Eloïse again. Even though she’d only been away for three weeks, she appeared to have grown and looked slightly older. Any concern I might have had that she would have forgotten about Papa was soon allayed. She bounded up to me and showered me in hugs and kisses.

Back home, in the days that followed, it became extremely apparent just how much her linguistic ability had improved while she had been away. She can now form quite complex sentences, and her vocabulary must have doubled since I put her on the plane. I’m amazed by some of the words and constructions she now uses.

Unfortunately, the gap between her English and her Dutch is now greater than ever, primarily because she hears so much of the former and Sarah’s Dutch still isn’t good enough that we can converse in the language. That inevitably means that Eloïse’s primary exposure is to English, a situation that will become less pronounced when she starts attending peuterschool in November.

Speaking of which, she’s already nagging us that she wants to go to peuterschool. You see, in an attempt to familiarise her with the idea that she’ll soon be going to nursery school, we’ve started telling her how nice it is there, what she can expect to do, etc. Unfortunately, this cunning ploy has backfired somewhat, as she has immediately taken to the idea. She’s rather put out that we wouldn’t take her there today, in spite of the fact that she’s not yet old enough to attend and it’s closed anyway because of the summer holidays.

Oh well; we’ll just have to hope that her level of interest continues.

Yesterday, we went walking in Nationaal Park Zuid-Kennemerland over by Bloemendaal. It was nice to get out into nature and wander over the dunes, although the scenery was duller than I remember it. It’s a large park, so perhaps we just needed to enter elsewhere and see other parts of it. We finished with dinner in Laren, the other side of Amsterdam in Het Gooi.

Whilst in the bath with Eloïse this evening, we discovered a tick burrowed into her shoulder, so I called the on-call doctor’s line, explained our findings and was told to bring her in. So, we all drove over to the Rivierenbuurt, where Eloïse had her unwelcome guest removed with a pair of tweezers. She was as good as gold for the doctor and didn’t flinch as he examined and pinched at her.

Now we have to keep an eye on things to make sure that no symptoms of Lyme disease develop. Happily, most ticks don’t carry the disease and we caught this one quite quickly, so we’re not too concerned.

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Le Maillot Jaune A Disparu

At this point, I’m watching the Tour de France more out of morbid curiosity than anything else. And, I suspect a number of the riders themselves are wondering why they’re still taking part in this race.

The day before yesterday, Vinokourov, winner of the 13th and 15th stages, was found to have engaged in blood doping (transfusion) before the start of the 13th stage. As a result, the entire Astana team was asked to withdraw from the Tour, a request that was honoured. So, that was goodbye to not just Vinokourov, but also men like Kashechkin and Klöden.

Yesterday, Vinokourov was found to have tested positive during the 15th stage, too.

There was worse to come, though. During the 16th stage yesterday, it was announced that another rider had tested positive for doping. The name wouldn’t be released until after the race.

After the race, it was announced that Moreni, an Italian rider on the Cofidis team, had tested positive for testosterone a few days earlier. The predictable result was that the entire Cofidis team withdrew from the race.

And then, just when you think it can’t get any worse, if only because the hour is late enough that most people have retired for the evening and the machinery of the Tour has wound down for the day, the Rabobank team announces that it is withdrawing yellow jersey Michael Rasmussen from the race with immediate effect. The guy who is leading the race and who won the day’s stage in spectacular style, the man who looked set to ride to Paris in yellow and walk away with the race victory, is now no longer even in the race.

And what was the straw that broke the camel’s back? It turns out that Rasmussen had lied when informing the Danish cycling federation about his whereabouts so that they could conduct out-of-competition testing. He had said that he would be in Mexico, when he had, it seems, actually been in Italy. He had also misinformed his own team about his whereabouts during the same period.

His undoing was that an ex-rider, now a commentator for Italian TV, had seen Rasmussen in the Dolomites in early June. The man had actually spoken to Rasmussen and was sure that it was him. He mentioned this encounter in passing to a Danish journalist, who realised that this was at the same time that Rasmussen was claiming to have been in Mexico.

One thing led to another and, before you know it, Rasmussen is ejected from the Tour and may well never race again. No doubt this will please the UCI, the French press (for whom any victor who isn’t French is undesirable) and all of the other people who have been calling for Rasmussen’s expulsion from the race over the last week.

In the last twelve hours, I have been hearing words like ‘traitor’ to describe Rasmussen and it occurs to me that the quest to cleanse the sport is now turning into an inhuman witchhunt.

I, for one, have a lot of sympathy for Rasmussen. Let’s not forget that he was tested for doping at least 14 times during this year’s Tour de France and found to be negative every single time.

Who knows why he gave incorrect information to the UCI about his whereabouts? Perhaps he had planned to go to Mexico, but later changed his plans and remained in Italy. Even if he deliberately lied, perhaps he felt he had good reasons for doing so. He is known to be a very private man and perhaps he resented being followed around by men in white coats with a syringe in one hand and a test-tube in the other.

As far as I’m concerned, until he is proved to have using doping, the most one can find Rasmussen guilty of is lying; and lying alone should not be grounds for expulsion from competition.

According to UCI rules, receiving three warnings for failure to be available for out-of-competition testing is equivalent to a positive test result. Rasmussen had received only two such warnings, which is why he was still in the race until yesterday. He was ultimately expelled for having lied about his whereabouts to his own team, thereby transgressing the team’s internal code of conduct. Neither the UCI nor the ASO had any grounds for taking action against him.

Michael Boogerd, Rasmussen’s team-mate, is the only person I’ve seen show much sympathy for Rasmussen today. He said that he could imagine perfectly how it must feel to be Rasmussen today, that his life is now in tatters, and that he will probably never race professionally again. His career is over, and that without even having tested positive.

In my opinion, Michael Rasmussen had demonstrated himself to be the top rider in this year’s Tour de France. He was without a doubt the strongest in the course and it will be a hollow victory for whomever now rides in the yellow jersey onto the Champs-Élysées.

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