Summertime

We've entered the Quiet Time where people sneak off and enjoy the summer sun, the heat, the growing plants, and each other.  Those of us who are still at it are slogging away in a sort of peaceful doldrum, where the boat floats along but there isn't anybody manning the oars.  I suppose this it the time to catch up on all those long term projects that you put off until you had the time to do them, and certainly some are able to make that work for them.  Others of us just want to run away and have the fun we imagine summer us supposed to hold for us.

I think it goes back to our childhoods where summers were Off From School and the responsibilities of life were still far in our futures.  I remember climbing the hill that looks over the town of Twisp.  It took quite a while and I enjoyed the climb.  The next day everyone I met asked if I was the kid that climbed the hill, and I had the pleasure of saying that I was.  Maybe I was 12 years old.  Or 14.

I remember going down to Lake Michigan when we lived in Sheboygan and playing on the beach, and fishing in the stream near our house, and riding my bicycle, and playing baseball all summer.

And camping up on Early Winters Creek above Mazama and fishing for Cutthroat Trout on small streams where fishing is more like hunting and you have sneak up on all these very small fishing holes and cast your lure where the fish can't see you.  Looking down from this really big rock into a large pool below, and the water is so clear and the rocks across the bottom are so light that you can see the fish lined up just below the rapid part, and casting the Indiana spinning rig with the trailing salmon egg just so one of the trout will see it and rush out to grab the hook.  That summer I know I was just 12.  We were moving to Milwaukee OR that summer, and this was the trip we took to re-connect with the mountains before we left for the city. - They were building the highway over Rainy and Washington Pass that summer and there was lots of construction on the road near the campground, but still, it seemed remote and alone.  We were just about the only people in the campground.  My dad and I filled the cooler with fish, and we shared them with all our family in the valley below.  There was no waste, I can tell you.

Having spent 12 years of grade school followed by 11 years of University education, it is hard not to think of summer as Off.  Imprinting, that's what it is.  I was imprinted by the System.  It is in my DNA.

Bee Sting Update

I wanted to note that I got  bill from the walk in clinic in Maine where I had my finger looked at in March.  Remember when I got the bee sting?  Well, it cost $144 for a PA (physician's assistant) to look at it and tell me that "It sucks to be you!".

Modern medicine...

It has been a while...

I think there are 2 kinds of things.  One of the classes of things is represented by a big circle which includes all things that can be diagramed using a Venn diagram, and the other is a small circle for those things that cannot.

I have been reflecting on the reasons I change jobs.  I hadn't realized it at the time, or at least not exactly, but there seems to be a seminal event that occurs where I experience something, learn something, someone says something, or some sort of event that serves as the seed for an epiphany.  This enlightenment event serves as the key to my realization that things are not going right, and I need to make a change.  Looking back, I can see them clearly now.  At A there was such an event, backed up by many events of a similar nature, that put me into an Orientation of Discontent.  Once that cat was out of the bag I was actively looking for something new to do, even though I was content where I was and my employer was content having me where I was.  21 years with that employer worked both for and against my staying, as my history was long and storied, and my position within the company was (mostly) secure.

At B I can name the exact second where this event occurred, the circumstances, and exactly why I felt that way.  I don't believe my facial expression gave me away, but I realized it was happening at the time, and I knew it for what it was.  I suppose the 4.5 years with B suggested that I had fewer ties, but actually I think the opposite was true.  My exposure was broader, my contacts were of a different sort, and what I was able to do as an employee there seemed more than at A, in retrospect.  My contribution was valued, at least as a co-worker, and as a person of a different sort of perspective than the rest of the crowd.  My difference there was an asset, not a liability.

Study after study shows that Job Satisfaction is the most important thing for employees.  It is not money.  It is not perks.  It is not commute time, or office space, or free coffee, or health insurance.  It is feeling that your work is appreciated and your contribution is recognized.  Does your boss listen to you?  Are you satisfied with your role in the company?  Does the companies' direction align with your personal values and objectives?  Do you have a future with this company?  Things like that.  The trouble with investing 21 years with one company is that you form some pretty strong opinions about how companies work, how they should work, and what your proper role within a company should be.  Not only that but you get access to many other companies, and employees in these other companies, and you get a sense of what works and what doesn't work.

Another important part is the value of sticking with a job long enough to reap whatever benefits may come from being a Valued Employee.  A short term employee isn't as valuable as a long term employee, and time in service cannot be replaced by education, experience outside the company, or any other non-service metric.  It is often said that 80% of participation in an activity is just showing up, and this is exactly what I am talking about here.  Sticking with the program through the thick and thin of normal company life is really important.  Times are good, times are bad, and we know that we can count on YOU through it all means a lot to everyone, both co-workers and employers.  Co-workers look to you for guidance, and employers look to you for leadership and support.

So, I have been fighting not to have a similar sort of Epiphany Experience at W.  I knew that the commute would be an issue.  I knew that the smallness of the company would be different than B, but I thought it would be similar to A.  It has turned out to be very different than A, and I am having a hard time getting used to the difference.  The personalities are different, and there are fewer of them.  The structure is hierarchal, and the King at the top is autocratic and entrenched.  I was hired to take some of the sales burden off his shoulders and to provide structure to the sales process.  And I was hired specifically to become the product manager for our cellulosic ethanol bale processing line, seen as the highest value system-style product the company produces.

But what has happened?

Time wounds all ... fingers?

We have yellow jackets living in the roof tiles at the house.  We see them in the summer, especially in the afternoon when the sun is hot on the roof.  They like hot weather.  It makes them frisky.  In the winter they are slow and dopey.  They fall on the floor and walk around, they can't fly, and they clearly are waiting for warmer weather.

Unfortunately they don't die in the winter.  They do like to crawl into tight spaces and ride the winter out in some sort of comfort.  I always shake our my bicycle gear in the garage before putting on my shoes, or helmet.  You never know...

So, you think I might have been just a little cautious when I put on the left handed glove I keep on the gas grill that I use to hold oysters to shuck them when I grill them.  NO, I didn't.  And last night when I pulled it on there was a moment when I didn't really understand why my middle finger was feeling odd - a sort of stinging, like maybe a blackberry thorn was inside.  Then it got more acute, and I understood I was under ATTACK!  I pulled my hand out, and a now-squished yellow jacket fell to the deck.  The damage was done.  I iced my finger and all seemed well.  It was fine overnight, and didn't really bother me.  Until the flight today from Seattle to Portland, Maine. My finger is now quite swollen and a bruise is apparent.  The effect is limited to the joint that has the fingernail, and just a bit into the one behind it, but it is definitely affected.  My typing seems to be OK, and it doesn't really hurt, but I notice it.  OK, it hurts a bit.

On Saturday I played golf in Port Townsend.  On the first hole my ball landed in the fairway (yes, it happens once in a while) but I could not tell how far I was from the green.  Often they mark sprinklers with the distance, so I leaned over to have a look at one that was close by.  It was covered in grass clippings, so I used my right hand to wipe away the grass, and YIKES!  The sprinkler had been chopped by the lawn mower which had left a razor sharp shard sticking up!  It sliced my middle finger and the blood shot out in profusion.  It hurt like an SOB, but the leakage was the real problem. Fortunately I carry a red golf towel on my bag, so it didn't look like I was so badly injured as I played on (you didn't think I would stop, do you?).  It stopped bleeding after a few holes anyway.  And you can always wash a towel but you can't always play golf!

So, here I sit on Monday night.  The middle fingers on both hands are messed up.  One is swollen, and one is healing a scarred side.

I thought this shit was supposed to slow down as we aged...

The Brink

In the recent movie, Star Trek, a young James T. Kirk drives a stolen classic car across the wide open plains of what appears to be Iowa.  There is not a thing in view in terms of a hill or mountain, only miles and miles of wide open space.  He is having a great time, thrilled with the act of driving a fast car without any external limits, only wide open space and long straight roads.  His is an act of rebellion, apparently against the situation he finds himself in - too young to legally drive, an absent mother who is currently "off planet", a step-father he doesn't respect, responsibilities to his family and school he doesn't accept, and a sense that he is above it all, smarter that everyone around him.  He is complete within himself, confident of his abilities, sure of every action he takes and makes, respectful of nothing and plunging headlong into the future.

Eventually he is chased by a possibly robotic cop on a futuristic motorcycle without any actual wheels since it floats over the road.  To escape this annoying reminder of his responsibilities Kirk turns off down a dirt road, at high speed, heading apparently nowhere.  The cop is in hot pursuit, demanding that he pull over.  The metaphor of the cop is clear: he represents the world that requires the young future Captain of Starfleet to acknowledge his place in things, that there are forces larger than himself to which he must submit, forces which he must acknowledge and to which he must conform.  Kirk will have nothing to do them at the present, as he is all about himself and the present moment.

As an audience we are suddenly pulled back, and what is revealed is an enormous chasm, a crack in the earth where the road upon which the young Kirk is traveling abruptly ends.  If he continues his current course he will plunge headlong into the abyss to his end.  The depth of the chasm is not clear, but it is DEEP, really deep, and it is a one-way trip.  It is the Brink of Existence for Kirk, if he doesn't change his ways.  Sirens blaring, the cop is hot on his trail.  Oblivious, Kirk plunges on.

What will happen here?  What does the edge really represent to Kirk and to all of us?  Is this an ending?  Is this a beginning?  It is a Brink, a forced epiphany where we must confront something fundamental about ourselves.  We can't escape it, it bears down upon us relentlessly.

In Groundhog Day, Bill Murray and Phil, the groundhog, drive off the edge of the cliff to their demise, only to wake up at 6:00 a.m. the same day they departed as if nothing ever happened.  This doesn't happen to the rest of us.  We suffer the consequences of our actions in linear time, with day following day, consequences following acts, in a billiard ball universe where actions create reactions ad infinitum.  Things done cannot be undone.  Balls set into motion continue to move.  There is no do-over.  There is no control-Z on the keyboard of life.  More's the pity.

We face more situations where brink-like conditions exist than we may realize.  Every day we are faced with choices that, if taken one way, could lead to the precipice Kirk faced.  Roads that appear fine and safe, and are, until they come abruptly to an end.  Can we see the end coming?  Maybe.  Maybe friends can help us see the end.  Maybe we can see them ourselves but choose not to see them.  Either way, there are situations that are more than crossroads, they are the precipitous Brinks that mean everything.  Fall over them and you are lost.  Step back and you can save yourself.  Lines that should not, cannot be, crossed.  Brinks.  The Brink.

Metaphors abound in this arena.  How about the tightrope walker?  Does that work for you?  He walks the high wire where any misstep will mean disaster and death.  Walk the straight and narrow and you are safe.  How well does that represent life as we know it?  Not so well, I think.  Things are not as black and white as that.  Or maybe they are even more stark, and we choose not to see it.  Believing is seeing, as we learn.  If we believe we are safe, we can't see how far gone we are.

I have a friend who is at a brink, and it is painful to see the process unfold.  What will happen?  What can I do to help?  What action that I can take is too much, and what is too little?

How can I reach out and help?

My Saga Continues

For Christmas I bought Judy a Sony speaker that sits on the counter.  She can sit her iPad on it, or her new iPhone, and it plays stations like Pandora or specific radio stations that have apps for them.  She uses it all the time now, and it has replaced the temperamental and scratchy wireless system we have been using in the house for all these past years.  I consider this a major step forward.  It plays loud if you want it to, or quiet.  The quality is excellent, and the ambience it creates is wonderful.  The best thing is that the sound is exactly where you want it to be - in the kitchen.

Tonight I went to Costco and bought a pair of speakers that are the size of large eggs.  They pop up and sit there, making a tremendous sound absolutely belying their size.  They are amazing.  They have internal batteries that power them, and they plug into the iPad (not Bluetooth) but expand the sound and the sound quality in an unbelievable manner.  I'm listening to them now as I write this.  Yikes, this is cool.  Headphones are cool, but ambient sound is also cool.  I'm listening to Pandora and the songs are exactly what I like.   Technology is working for me tonight...

Holiday Letters

I wrote an introduction to a Holiday Letter that we did not end up using.   As I was putting this down in writing I felt the spirit move in my fingers, and what I ended up with was not particularly what I started out to create.  It went something like this:

If I am writing a letter that describes what my family and I have been doing for the past year and sending it to "family and friends" that have not been interested enough in me to try looking at my Facebook postings or reading my blog, then why am I bothering?  If you want to know what is happening with people today you have multiple avenues to reach them, either actively with an email or phone call here and there to ask them how they are doing, or passively through participating in shared environments like Facebook, blogging, and many others.  My Holiday Letter seems to disrupt this status quo by forcing you to read about me even if you have not been interested in doing so. 

What should I write about?  If you have been following me and my life you know about the big stuff, and likely about the little stuff, too.  What's left to write about?

This brings to mind the old Bert and I skit where Bert returns home after an absence and his friend tells him "There really is no news, except that I should tell you that your dog died."   As the story unfolds, the dog died from eating the dead horse flesh, which died in the fire that destroyed the barn,  which caught fire from sparks that flew from the house, that caught on fire from the candles that were burning around the casket, which held the beloved Aunt that died, who died when she heard the news about your Uncle, etc.   A perfect Shaggy Dog story that never has to end.  It does finally end when he says, "Other than that, there is no news!"

Well, my dog died, but all that other stuff didn't happen!