GolfSigma: What we have been up to
September 24, 2009Wednesday, September 23, 2009
What we have been up to….
What’s new is very simple stated, stability. Our new platform has provided us with the means to grow our tee time inventory, (currently around 5 million tee times) and increase our courses count, while maintaining the delivery of super fast search results. Now we will continue on our quest to try and search ever and any course that has an online presence. We have added a quick link directory to show you some of the more popular golfing destinations. You can access that from the home page or just click here to take a look. Remember that these are just a few of the popular cities; you should be able to find any US city that has a golf course within a 50 mile radius.
We have also added a Forum that talks about everything golf. Have a swing tip, a golf joke (keep it clean), a predicted winner at the next PGA tour event (Tiger), head on over to the new Forum. We welcome your participation and look forward to meeting you in the Forum.
Hard to believe, but 25,000 Tweeps have decided to follow us on Twitter. If you are into Twitter and Facebook keep up to date with the latest. One thing I can guarantee is you will not see any posting about my golf game. (I do not want to be responsible for anybody injuring themselves by laughing to hard). Umm with all the Swing Instructions that are advertised on Twitter I wonder if any of them work?
We have also added a FAQ section which currently has very few questions, which is what we fully expect due to the ease of use of GolfSigma.
Ah one last item to mention, Sigma Ads. We have installed our own ad server in an attempt to accomplish two goals; deliver pertinent golf ads to your specific area, and hopes to help fund our endeavor. For our viewers we expect that they will see very exciting golf promotions from courses and other advertisers. Why will the advertisers be interested, because GolfSigma is one of the best sites to reach golfers, who else is on the site? Win, Win, Win…… As always, more to come……. Rich
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Men At Work – Down Under.
September 17, 2009
Do you come from a land down under?
Where women glow and men plunder?
Cant you hear, cant you hear the thunder?
You better run, you better take cover.
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Google Chrome Fun.
September 8, 2009
It is truly amazing what you can do with a little (not really) Java script and chrome. Ball Pool is a great example of what Java is capable of doing with the right browser.
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Scary Rocking Horse
September 2, 2009
It looks harmless enough. To the uninitiated, it’s nothing more sinister than a big cuddly toy on rockers. It’s not cute though and that maniacal grin should have been a clue.
The rocking horse was acquired from a friend whose child has grown too big for it. SP snuck it home and left it in the lounge as a surprise. None of us could have predicted just how much of a surprise…
FP and I found it, sitting innocently in front of the fire, looking like, well, a miniature rocking horse that would be just the right size for FP.
“Mummy lift you on,” instructed FP. I plonked her into the saddle and FP nearly jumped straight off again.
The horse spoke.
It said, in loud, electronic tones, “NEIGH!” and proceeded to make sounds of galloping hooves.
FP was horrified. She pulled her arms protectively up to her body and sat rigid with fright.
I, recovering from my own fright, attempted to pacify FP, laughing it off and encouraging FP to rock. She rocked, reluctantly, but only if mummy held the handlebars.
All was quiet. It began to be fun. FP relaxed and started to enjoy rocking. Mummy let go of the handlebars.
“NEIGH!” said the horse unexpectedly again.
This time, FP actually did jump right off the horse and clung to me, shaking and crying.
“It’s a scary ‘orse,” she sobbed. “You’re frightened. You’re cried.”
SP took the batteries out but we still haven’t been able to persuade FP to go anywhere near the thing again. Even walking into the same room is a challenge.
“You’ll have to walk past the scary ‘orse,” she says, holding onto my leg.
“It is a scary horse,” I agreed. I should have been able to predict that from the demonic grin. What’s that about looking a gift horse in the mouth?
Rachel Pattisson is a mummy blogger whose blog, Really Rachel, was intended to be about All Sorts Of Things and turned out to be mostly about her children. Well, they are infinitely bloggable, of course(!)
In between mummying and blogging, Rachel is a freelance writer with a love of all things wordy. You can follow me on Twitter, ask me to do some writing for you, view the original post about the scary horse or read more from Really Rachel. Enjoy!
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Review – Cushi Tush
August 31, 2009Review – Cushi Tush
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Wallpaper – August.
August 28, 2009
20 Wallpapers all created by Jared K. Nickerson (J3Concepts), 1920×1200.
For personal use only.
Enjoy.
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The Reluctant Businessman
August 27, 2009A guest post from inshin. Does it get better when we look back ?? http://inshin.wordpress.com/
I was reminded recently of a time when I worked in the aircraft industry. It truly is one of the most amazing industries, still retaining hints of the pioneering explorations that provide us with wonderful stories full of adventure. People who work with aircraft tend not to be ‘workers’ but much more in the vein of those born with a vocation as we see in medicine and teaching. They are often obsessed with flight, even when they are the ones who don’t fly but work to keep the big metal birds in the air. It was in this area that I found myself in. A collection of highly skilled hard working people who could patch-up a twenty year old plane so it could make it to it’s next stop, and next patch.
But my story is not about one of those occasions when a creaking plane struggled through harsh terrain, bringing much needed supplies to desperate people. It was an incident which brought me to Miami, where our crew were inspecting, signing off and flying a ‘new’ twenty year old plane back to Europe. My job, however, was to visit some aircraft suppliers and keep up our contacts to support the ongoing maintenance work. Now in general I tended not to have a problem meeting new people in business and discussing whatever issues needed to be covered. However, this was my first time in the US, and being the wrong side of 25, I wasn’t exactly the most experienced, as things were to turn out.
I headed off, suited it up with my (half empty) brief case. Met in the hotel car park by the main meet of the day, I was driven to another part of Miami. We had a pleasant mandatory tour of the facility and then discussed buying selling prices and loads of other things that I tried to indicate I was knowledgeable on. Overall that went quite well and we had lunch.
My problems started to arise when the visit ended. Unfortunately this suppler wasn’t able to drop me back to the hotel and I needed a taxi (cab). They duly arranged this and I sat into the back of one of those great big American cars I love. My appreciation for these marvelous vehicles was a considerable distraction as the views around this part of Miami all seemed pretty industrial. But gradually I noticed we weren’t moving and realised that we were in thick traffic going nowhere.
This is probably where the inexperience revealed itself. I suddenly thought of the issue of money. Glancing towards the meter while groping for my dollars, it dawned on me that it was very likely I didn’t have enough to pay for the taxi. I glanced at my meager funds and quickly calculated that if the taxi didn’t perform like starring in a Bruce Willis movie soon, I wouldn’t have enough. Fortunately I correctly worked out that the meter in an American taxi showed the actual charge due, unlike at home where there was always a manic routine the driver would perform at the end of the trip with the meter which resulted in almost a double charge materialising.
I looked around at my surroundings and roughly calculated that I felt we were not too far from my hotel. In a grand gesture I implied to the driver that the traffic was so bad I’d get out here and walk the rest of the way. He looked somewhat shocked but agreed to take the few dollars I had on me and I exited the car.
Striding confidently in what I thought was the correct destination I headed off suited up, brief case in hand and, shortly afterwards, sweating profusely in the humid and blinding sun that so often attracts people to this part of the world. It wasn’t long before the jacket had to come off and I carried it over my arm, balancing the now ridiculous looking brief case in the other.
I wasn’t quite sure why I was getting frequent head light flashes and car horns blasting as eventually the traffic, considerably faster than earlier, tore past me walking alongside what I suspect would have been called a freeway. Anyway it was bigger than any road I had ever seen with about six lanes on each side. Fortunately my sense of direction has always tended to be good (except when walking late at night in Wicklow after a few). In the distance I was sure I saw the shape of the hotel. Between me and there, it seemed that the road dipped under a fly-over and the path I had been walking seemed to stop. At this time, there was also a bus stop, and, as you would at home, I approached the lady sitting there to confirm my suspicions of the hotel’s location.
Her reaction to my question, accompanied by the continual blaring of horns as cars past, began to make me wonder was I missing something. When I asked her if the building the far side of the flyover was my hotel and could I get to it, a look of fear crossed her face and she continued to stare straight ahead of her with no comment. As I waited for a more reasonable response, I glanced around looking at a slowly moving car passing by with a few youths hanging out of the window calling out various things I didn’t quite catch.
Finally I realised that my walk, dress and general demeanor probably resembled something out of a movie like Falling Down with Michael Douglas. I decided at this stage the best thing would be to proceed through the end of the path and under the flyover, not quite sure what I would encounter in the somewhat darker stretch before me.
Clearly the flyover represented another six lane by two freeway as it seemed to take a long time to emerge the far side. It was long enough to read a series of some very artistic graffiti as my pace quickened with the sheltered and cooler air the flyover provided. Once out the far side I could see the hotel car park and knew I was near safety.
I strolled on into reception and met some of my colleagues, recounting the story of my recent adventure. The response was not quite what I expected. One of the more veteran members of the team almost went into a rage when he realised what I had done. Seemingly I had traversed one of the most dangerous stretches of the Miami airfield area and that the probable reason for surviving the route and not being shot was because those who might typically act in such a territorial way had also seen the film Falling Down and may have suspected that the useless brief case contained a base ball bat or even an Uzi.
As I sat contemplating the incident, elements of the event did seem to become clearer. The taxi driver was shocked at the location I decided to leave his care, the flashing lights and horns, at least initially, seemed to be a warning to get out of the area for my own safety, and the lady at the bus stop was probably fingering a Magnum in her shopping bag in an attempt to move into self defence mode. As for the car that slowly drove by, well they obviously were worried about the brief case.
Whilst it may have been the saving component on the day, the brief case was parked and never produced again.
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Menacing Figures?
August 26, 2009Rachel Pattisson (aka “MIss”) is a full time mummy and a freelance writer (whenever Those Two happen to fall asleep at the same time). Up until recently, she was a teacher. Many of her teaching tales remain untold. They don’t fit nicely into her ‘mummy blog’ so she decided to make a special place for them at Miss’s Memoirs, where you will find survival tactics, reality checks and lots of funny tales from teaching.
You can follow me on Twitter, ask me to do some writing for you, view the original post about that scary encounter or read more funny stories from Miss’s Memoirs. Enjoy!
Scary Encounter
It’s late at night. I’m walking home. Alone.
Two figures are coming towards me through the gloom. Teenage boys – men really – swaggering along, all leather and piercings and bravado.
They are looking at me. Directly at me. Is this a challenge? What are they planning to do?
I have no option but to keep walking. There is nobody about and nowhere to run to.
I will not show my fear.
I walk as tall as I can (which is not very tall, actually) and put on a confident (looking) swagger of my own.
They are still staring at me. Menacing? They are approaching fast. I look into the middle distance and hold my course on the footpath.
Are they drunk? On drugs? Up to no good?
I plan to walk past and keep walking, fast.
The distance between us shrinks. They are still looking at me. Their stares are far too direct. These are not merely innocent passers-by.
And then they speak.
This is what they say:
“Hiya Miss!”
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The Sensual World
August 20, 2009It's a Kate Bush track, originally inspired by Molly Bloom's soliloquy in the final chapter of James Joyce's Ulysses – eight monolithic "sentences" (one stretching to over 4000 words), with only three pieces of punctuation. If you're not familiar with it, let's just say she uses the word "yes" a lot, and that the final, breathy "Yes" of the soliloquy and of the entire book (still present on the album, even though the James Joyce estate refused permission to use the rest of it) leaves little room for misinterpretation. Enough said. Of course, Ulysses is ubiquitously featured in lists of "banned books" throughout the world, the subject of numerous obscenity trials, yet still ranked first on the Modern Library's list of the 100 greatest English-language novels of the 20th Century. Sounds a lot like Frankie Goes To Hollywood's Relax, doesn't it?
Anyway, I've got your attention. It's a great album, and it's a great (but insanely difficult) book, but it's not all that much to do with what I'm going to write about. Earthy subjects are obviously very good at attracting a read, but we just have to face it. We live in a sensual world – one that appeals to our senses, and, be honest, that ultimately leads to the continued propagation of life on this planet. I meet plenty of poor souls who aren't willing to appreciate their sensuality. Fortunately, I'm not one of them. Don't worry, for those of you of a nervous disposition, I'll keep it 'clean'. Sight. Pretty remarkable, when it comes down to it. If it was a TV, it'd be some ridiculous number P with a million to one dynamic contrast ratio, or whatever that latest techno-blub is. Your visual cortex delivers data to the brain at speeds that would make the internet cry. And, behind it all, an amazing piece of wetware processes it all and somehow manages to solve partial differential equations so you can catch a ball. Don't even try to break it down, just appreciate it. Color. Shape. The face of a child. A flower. Being lost in someone else's eyes. Sunsets. Moonlight. The world is full of beautiful things, beautiful people. Take the time to stop and look at them. Sound. Compressions and rarefactions in the air all around us somehow, remarkably, have texture and timbre, envelopes and even emotions. String those sounds into words and perhaps humankind's most significant achievement – communication through language – appears; shape them into music, and our most potent form of entertainment emerges. I don't care much for TV. The computer, I can possibly live without (well, for a short period, anyway). Don't try to take away my music. A song has the ability to capture a moment in time and embed it forever in your memory. More physiological effects send you whistling, humming or even singing through the house as you push the vacuum cleaner. Sometimes, music inexplicably makes you gyrate other body parts. Anyone can dance. Everyone should. Taste. Bit of an ewww-to-mechanical-and-biological one this. Evidently at some point it was determined that creatures would probably find it easier to remember to sustain themselves if it was a pleasant experience as well. (OK, it isn't always). Everything could taste like chicken, I suppose. This is one of those things though where you owe it to yourself to try as many different tastes as you can. I perish the thought that my kids could grow up thinking that "exotic" is putting a pickle on a hamburger, or a "treat" is soft-serve ice-cream. Flavors can take me to exotic places; they can also take me home. In a world where the rule is make the meat taste of nothing, and standardize the sauces, we can do much better. Although a hamburger can be blissful, too
Touch. I loved watching Robin Williams in Bicentennial Man. The android comes home, proudly tells his would-be human love that he is "now in proud possession of a central nervous system", and he asks her to slap him about a bit. (It's a brilliant movie, provided you have hankies at the ready). To have an entire body surface covered with millions of electrical receptors, in some places several thousand to the square inch, and not to make the most of it seems a bit of a waste, doesn't it? While my air conditioning has been down, I've been surrounding myself with oscillating fans. Having those run up and down me all night has been… exhilarating. Sometimes in sync, sometimes not. This is one I'd better cut short before I get into too much trouble.
Smell. This one is vastly underrated, associated with negatives, and, let's face it, the human olfactory system is pretty lousy compared to much of the animal kingdom's. A dog can identify every other dog in the neighborhood from within three feet of a fire hydrant. But scent is one of the most utterly evocative of all the senses, capable of triggering a stream of memories. A Yale University study found that the smell of Crayola crayons is one of the 20 most recognizable scents to American adults. Freshly-cut grass is another favorite. A sea breeze recalls a first love, from a vacation that's decades ago. Even in a crowded room I can tell if there's one person in it wearing Elizabeth Taylor's Passion. Rosemary grows outside my front door – a scent that means home. I bought me one of those little aromatherapy diffusers from Wal-Mart. Lavender heals. Peppermint cools. Tea tree invigorates… the list goes on.
And more? Perhaps, yes. Your brain is a significantly clever piece of hardware, capable of synthesizing minimal cues, comparing it with its previous database of knowledge, wisdom, and experience, and coming to some otherwise quite inexplicable conclusions. Entire societies have dedicated millennia to seek higher states of enlightenment. There's another post in itself.
Every once in a while, all of these come together, brilliantly, satisfyingly. Something as simple as a rainstorm, simple, perhaps, powerful, certainly, valuable, undoubtedly. I feel those "change in the weather" twinges in old wounds, my sixth sense I suppose, and rush out to see the clouds break, hear the rumble of the thunder, smell the rain, feel it trickle all over me, even taste it. This, quite simply, is what it means to be alive. Welcome to the human condition.
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