With the entry deadline for the Ticket Giveaway to The Fray expired, it's time to draw the winner.

Thanks to everybody who so enthusiastically participated!

:: throwing names in the hat ::
:: reaching into the hat ::
:: pulling a piece of paper out of the hat ::

...and the winner is ... [sound of trumpets]:

AMY MCCANN

Congrats, Amy! You won the pair of tickets to The Fray!
Hope you have an awesome time at the concert.

And thanks again to Nowwhat.com for so generously donating the tickets.

This was fun.

Through David Pogue's weekly little tech column in the New York Times, I learn about all kinds of nifty stuff. And it always comes nicely packaged in a no-nonsense language even us mere mortals (= non-geek-gods = ME) can understand and follow.

Point in case: his write-up this week on Gmail's Fetch-Mail feature.

David writes: In essence, this feature tells Gmail to fetch messages from your existing POP account(s), so that it all shows up at Gmail.com. Better yet, Mail Fetcher offers you the chance to have outgoing messages stamped with your regular e-mail address. In other words, Gmail.com becomes a free, invisible mail processing center, leaving no trace of its involvement. The people you correspond with will never know that their messages, or your responses, went anywhere but straight to your computer and back.

[Note: I know. The update on Dave's blog says the return address isn't getting correctly displayed. May not work from an iPhone, but from a regular browser it does. I tested it, and so far, it worked. ]

As I'm leaving to San Francisco on Sunday for a few photo shoots - wasn't looking forward to yet again having to log into each of my three email accounts separately (Emeraldbay, Obsidian Stock, Gmail) to stay in touch on the road - I thought I'd give the Fetch-Mail thingy a try.

And Oh My. How insanely useful is this!

Now I get email from both of my POP accounts delivered straight to my Gmail. So I don't get the messages all mixed up, I slap a label on each POP account (kinda what folders do in standard email programs), and now email from those accounts skip the Gmail inbox altogether and go straight to archive. Convenient! (You can turn this feature on in your Gmail by going to Settings -> Accounts -> Get mail from other accounts: Edit Info -> Archive incoming messages (Skip the Inbox)).

I also checked the "Leave messages on server" option on each POP account - so I'll be able to download all my messages into my Eudora desktop email program once I'm back home.

Granted - this all sounds lovely in theory. How well it checks out in the real world is left to be seen. I shall report on it once I'm back on August 2nd.

It's true. I'm giving away a pair of concert tickets to one lucky winner to go see The Fray at their July 25th show at the Bend Les Schwab Amphitheatre - courtesy of Nowwhat.com.

Here's some info about the concert, from the official Les Schwab site:

The Fray
July 25, 2007
Gates open - 5:00pm | Show - 6:30pm

It's been a whirlwind couple of years for The Fray, the Denver-based quartet whose earnest and melodic songs have been striking a huge chord with audiences. Formed in 2002 by Isaac Slade (vocals, piano) and Joe King (guitar, vocals), The Fray owe all of their early success to their organic, grassroots beginnings. In other words, they did it the old fashioned way: they earned it. It's a story you don't hear much anymore these days: local area gigs led to enthusiastic local press and local radio support. Part of the Wells Fargo Summer Concert Series.

Email me with your name and address if you want a chance at winning the tickets.

Entry deadline is Friday, July 20th, midnight.

I will draw the winner on Saturday, July 21st, announce him/her on my blog, and Nowwhat.com will overnight you the two tickets (no other info but the winner's will be released to them, and I will ditch all the other info as I have no use for it anyway).

For exclusive behind-the-scenes videos, tour photos and more, go check out Nowwhat.com.

Good luck!

Last night I had dinner and drinks with a Cuban Missile.

Or rather the man who is collectively nicknamed "The Cuban Missile" by his peers on the professional cycling circuit for his amazing speed - Ivan Dominguez.

And yepp - that speed brought him first into the finish yesterday evening during the Downtown Twilight Criterium in Bend (part of the annual Cascade Cycling Classics race).

So how did this dinner come about, you ask?

Well. After watching the race from the sidelines, my friend Stephanie (a Cuban native) and I decided to try for some dinner - but of course all the restaurants were slammed with the post-race crowd. Knowing that local Mexican restaurant El Caporal is a big place and usually has some good turn-over and short waits, we headed down to it. On the way, we ran into the Toyota-United Pro cycling team, celebrating their win outside their tour bus. There must have been a sort of native-country-recognition between my Cuban friend and Ivan - because next thing I knew, we had a dinner date with a few pro cyclists.

And fun it was. We ate quesadillas and burritos, drank margaritas and Coronas, and shared stories about our home countries. I even got to use some of my rusty Spanish again. We figured out there was not a single American at our table - seeing that aside from my Swiss self and the two Cubans, Stefano Barberi was from Brazil, and Jose Garcia from Mexico.

Interestingly, every Cuban I've ever met has some crazy or sad story how he or she got out of the country. Ivan was no different. Born and raised in Havana, he choose to follow his dream and in 1998, during a trip to New York with the Cuban Cycling Team, he defected. And while his hard work and talent eventually paid off, he expressed how much he missed his family and friends in Cuba, and how much he wanted to go back - if only he could.

On the drive home that night, I pondered that I could never imagine *not* being able to have the freedom to go see my family and friends. Ivan's story made me realize how lucky I am. I've never had to risk my life or the lives of my loved ones to pursue my goals and realize my dreams...

It's those random encounters - those little karmic gifts in life - that make you appreciate what you have. And they can happen right here in Bend. How amazing is that?

Sometimes, it's delicious being a geek. You get stuff, other people just don't. And you can laugh at stuff other people just can't.

Example: Robot Chicken.

It's rude, crude, violent, politically incorrect, offending on all levels (some may even call it sick, depending on your sense of humor) - and with its dolls and robots quintessentially nerdy. Kinda like South Park. Only better.

So what is Robot Chicken? Wikipedia defines the series like this: Robot Chicken is an American stop motion animated television series distributed by Sony Pictures Digital and produced by ShadowMachine Films, currently airing in the US as a part of Cartoon Network's Adult Swim line-up [it's rated MA]. It premiered on Sunday, February 20, 2005. Seth Green [of "Austin Powers" and "Without a Paddle" fame] and Matthew Senreich are the creators and executive producers of the show. Robot Chicken is a sketch show that parodies a number of pop culture conventions using stop motion animation of toys, action figures, dolls, and claymation (usually for special effects) and various other objects, such as tongue depressors.

A friend recently gave me Season 1 & 2 on disc, and I laughed so hard watching them, I almost spilled an entire can of Diet Coke on my keyboard.

Wanna check it out, but don't have cable or the Cartoon Network? Fear not. That's what YouTube is for. Here are some of the most hilarious clips:

Napoleon Bonamite
Star Wars trailer
E.T. the retard
Instant Message Titanic

I've seen it so many times now. Those raised eyebrows. That expression of surprise and general dismay (or disapproval?) on people's faces - yes, even my friend's - whenever I mention that I live in the small town of La Pine, Oregon.

There's a real stigma attached to this place. When they hear the word "La Pine", people cringe and automatically think of gun-toting rednecks in ridiculously oversized 4x4 trucks, twitchy speed freaks in the aisles of the local "Ray's", old single-wide trailers on densely wooded properties, and an ocean of senior citizens, driving real slow in their rusty 1970s sedans.

Never mind that I spend virtually no time in La Pine - all my friends and business connections dwell in swanky, overpriced Bend, 20 miles to the north. But I make no excuses. It's all true. I've seen it with my own two eyes.

Like yesterday. When in search of a few screws for a Burning Man art project, I decided to hit the ACE Hardware store in La Pine - and instead unwillingly stumbled into the local 4th of July parade.

There were tractors. Decorated tractors. Cops with cowboy hats and spurs on body-painted horses. Bad ass hot rods. The "Prairie Chicks" (a bunch of elderly ladies in red and purple) passing out strands of beads. Flush-cheeked cheerleaders. Random parade people throwing tootsie rolls. And a small horse-drawn carriage with a girl dressed in something resembling a Quaker outfit, sporting the sign "Old West or Bust". And all that in 100 degree heat.

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

So I went home, ditched my art project, slapped on the bathing suit, took the big umbrella, sunglasses, beach towel, and the latest issue of "Wired", and went down to my river.

A cool, glittering band of water. Psychedelically-green grasses and bushes. Birds chirping. Fish jumping. PEACE.

I read about geek stuff, nibbled on a fresh turkey sandwich, challenged a crawdad to a casual boxing match (although he might have misunderstood it for an attempt on his life), floated with my eyes closed in the river, let my skin soak up the glorious sun. No sounds, no distractions. Total privacy.

It was DIVINE. Heaven on earth.

Right. That's why I live in La Pine.