Have You Ever Lost ...

Time once more for for Mama Kat's Writer's Challenge. Today we will attempt the death defying feat of tackling prompts 2 and 4. To wit:

2.) “What did you once lose? Write about your search to find it again.” (inspired by writingfix.com)

4.) Begin each line of your post with “have you ever”. (inspired by Vikki from Live. Laugh. Pull Your Hair Out)

#2 - I have lost many things over the course my life. Some have been trivial material things, some have been things that only come to mind in an odd moment, and some are of a more subjective nature (like my sanity?). Some have been people. Some have been abilities.

The most perplexing thing that I lose periodically is the ability to enjoy life as it happens. Like most scientists and engineers, I am sometimes obsessive about things going according to plan. When I am in that phase, it feels like I have lost the ability to enjoy life as it occurs in real time. I start planning everything and anxiously waiting for each and every event to happen. Even small deviations from the expected occurrence stream can suck the joy out of the whole sequence of events. Needless to say, it is not a good state to be in. Nor is it fun to hang out with me when I'm in the state.

It took me a long time to realize that the way out of that state of mind and back to enjoyment is to wear mental blinders. I have to consciously decide to experience each event without expectation and correlated observation. You might say it requires practicing Zen to achieve a zen-like state. I always thought that the explanation from the Wikipedia article on Zen captured the essence:

Zen emphasizes experiential prajñā in the attainment of enlightenment. As such, it de-emphasizes theoretical knowledge in favor of direct realization through meditation and Dharma practice.

So maybe happiness and enjoyment of life *is* Zen enlightenment. {*grin*}


#4 - Have you ever? I have.

Have you ever chopped alfalfa? With a 40 foot head on a Field Queen? While dragging a semi trailer behind?

Have you ever changed oil in heavy equipment, lying on the ground, in the field, at night, trying to get done before all the rattle snakes finish homing in on the heat of the cooling engine?

Have you ever set a new land wriggle and crawl record due to the above?

Have you ever been in a fatal automobile accident?

Have you ever won a science fair?

Have you ever gotten drunk? With your faculty advisor?

Have you ever had your work published?

Have you ever held elected office?

Have you ever lived in Colorado? New Hampshire? California? Illinois? New York?

Have you ever wondered what happened to your kindergarten classmates?

Have you ever had a hole in one on the golf course?

Have you ever broken a bone? More than one?

Have you ever had surgery? More than one?

Have you ever played college athletics?

Have you ever shot a shotgun? Pistol? Rifle?

Have you ever thought that you have written more than enough "have you"'s? 

Two for the Challenge

Once more dear friends, into the breech we go. Time for Mama Kat's Writer's Challenge. This week I am tempted by prompts 1 and 2 - to wit:

1.) Describe a time when you had difficulty communicating with someone who speaks a different language than you. (inspired by Jen from Hamster Central)

2.) If you could do your wedding over, how would you do it? (Inspired by this tweet “I am watching TLC’s wedding shows and this makes me want to get married again. Same groom but a totally different ceremony.” by Jen@BuriedWithKids)

#1 - I was designated to give a presentation to a visiting team of Korean executives. They were all high muckety mucks and I was the designated expert in the topic area. Nothing too out of the ordinary.

But then corporate began to get worried. So we got a crash course in doing all the right things in the visitors culture. Things like always presenting your business card facing them so they could read it (a sign of respect), etc. Accept the gift they will present to you in appreciation for your time, let corporate deal with the ethical issues after the visitors have gone, etc. What no one thought through was that the visitors would have almost zero knowledge of the English language. Couple that lack with the fact that my talk was on computer and network security, a technical area full of jargon and engineering acronyms, and I'm sure you can see a disaster looming on the horizon.

Sure enough, the visitors arrived at our site in the middle of nowhere, clearly a high up executive team. I have never seen so many $2000 suits in one room in my life. Of course I am in khaki's and a short sleeved shirt. Really impressive.

Fortunately, there is a junior gofer with the visiting team who can manage a little pidgin English who will attempt to translate my talk for the suits. Since I have a white board plus diagrams, the talk gets started. And then immediately side-tracked. Turns out that, at that point in time, the cultural moires in Korea left the executives unable to fathom the idea that someone might attempt to use a resource they were not authorized for. In particular, the mainframe system running their multi-billion dollar company had no password. Only those who should be using it would dare to try, no need for user ids or passwords. Once I got my jaw off the floor and managed to pantomime "bad guy" and "unauthorized access", we were ready to continue.

When I got to the concept of outward facing systems and the "no man's land" between them and internal systems, communication came to a stand-still. I could not seem to convey the idea of "no man's land" in any way shape, or form. Finally in a fit of desperation, I called it the De-Militarized Zone (DMZ). The entire visiting team had light bulbs go over their heads - they all knew very well about DMZ given the division between North and South Korea.

I'm not sure how much knowledge the visitors took home with them, but DMZ became the standard terminology in the security area within a couple of years. After all, letting a scientist or engineer see an acronym leads to immediate use.

I did get a nice gift from the visitors:

The doodads on the tie clasp and cuff links are plated versions of the highest capacity memory chip dies in the world at the time - the company had just put them into production at the time. (The curious can figure out the company by reading the silk print in the back of the box. {*grin*})


#2 - I don't think I would change a thing about our wedding. To understand why, let me re-print this story.

Some background is in order before we get to the gist of the tale. Now would be a good time to put your Coke down if you are prone to snorting all over the keyboard!

L and I got married here in Colorado in the midst of going from New Hampshire (undergrad) to California (graduate school). L had arrived in Colorado well ahead of me to attend to such minor details as the wedding arrangements and her ring and all the showers and ... You get the idea. She was undergoing a whirl of showers and preparation and worry. Pretty stressed to say the least.

In the mean time I was journeying from New Hampshire with a friend from college with all our earthly goods in a U-Haul behind his old clunker of a car. To make the trip more exciting, we decided to visit the Smokey mountains on our way to Texas to drop his stuff off at his home. Now let me remind you that this was 34+ years ago and there was no such thing as a cell phone, for which I am eternally grateful. Otherwise I am sure I would have been on the phone to L hundreds of times a day. {*grin*}

Nelson, the friend I was traveling with, and I finally hit Colorado a couple of days before the wedding. He and some other friends from college were staying in the upstairs of mom and dad's house. Since we had a day free before the wedding, we all piled into Nelson's car and headed for Rocky Mountain National Park for the day since they had never been there. Of course L was stuck back down in the flatlands doing wedding type things. (Do you detect a pattern here?)

The day of the wedding, mom and dad's house was a total zoo. Mom was the cake decorator for the wedding, so we had wedding cake everywhere on every flat surface to be found. In addition, mom and dad's house only had one bathroom, so mom, dad, my brother, myself, and all my friends sleeping upstairs in the attic were sharing the one bathroom as we got ready. Then to top it all off, mom discovered that some of the wedding mints had gone bad. So there we are all sitting around the kitchen table molding mints like mad as we got ready for the wedding. Your only exit from the mint making line was when your turn in the bathroom was called. It may sound a bit insane, but some of my friends thought that the panic drill of sitting around the table stuffing and pressing the molds to create new mints, switching positions as the bathroom cycled, talking and laughing, half dressed for the wedding, was one of the high points of the wedding.

When I finally arrived at the church and joined up with my groomsmen, we were shuttled off to one of the warren of little rooms in the upstairs of the church. So we got to sit there and talk and wonder what was going on and when they would come to get us to get the show on the road. Unfortunately the young lady that put us in the room forgot to tell anyone else where she put us and as the time for the wedding to begin came and went, we were still sitting serenely and visiting without a clue. At long last, my future FIL happened to open the door and spot us. I think he was both relieved to have found us and disappointed - his money was on the groom (me!) having cold feet and departing post-haste.

The wedding itself went off without a hitch. Well except for the fact that I was reading the ceremony from the reverend's book upside down as he did the service and just about got lost when he skipped a bit. It is amazing how moved and shaken one is when those vows are finally said in front of all.

After the wedding, we had a reception in the church dining area. That was where the cake and mints and the food and basically a lot of visiting was going on. L and I were the oldest grandkids on both sides and were blessed to have our our grandparents in attendance. Thus there were a lot of pictures and people to be talked to at the wedding and reception. Our wedding was not small, it seemed like thousands but was probably more like 250-300 people. Once the cake was cut and the first wave of hunger assuaged, it was time for the party to get going. This was an early afternoon reception at the church with dinner that night over at MIL and FIL's.

At this point you have to know that L's maid of honor (her lifelong friend) and my best man (a friend of mine and L)are both all out jokesters. In addition, I have a huge crew of uncles that all love to give one and all a ribbing just to see them squirm. In fact it was after I first took L to a Christmas scrum at my grandpa and grandma's house and she was able to handle being around the uncles without killing me that I knew I had a real keeper.

The aforementioned crew of jokesters and fun loving rowdies then decided it would be a great idea to chivaree the bride. So the groomsmen and maid of honor, my brother, my uncles, and any other guilty looking souls they could corral kidnapped the bride. They didn't inform my new MIL and FIL of what they were doing either. So there I was surrounded by all the females at the wedding (and in on the whole affair) in an apparent flirt fest and no sign of their daughter who had just gotten married to me.

The rowdy crew took L to the local cemetery and tied her to a headstone. Then they just left. After they had left her there for a while, they came back and took her to the lowest and cheapest cowboy bar in town. So L got to drink and dance with all the toothless old cowboys in the place. And of course all of these impressive events were captured on film for later enjoyment. While that was going on, I was beginning to get the 3rd degree from my FIL, since he was convinced I knew what the heck had happened to his daughter. Boy was I happy to see the crew return with L in tow.

That evening we had a picnic type affair at MIL and FIL's house. I remember the line going out and around the house and down the block. It was a great good time for all. It was also funny because as I was standing in line with a friend I had first met in college in New Hampshire, he turned to me and said "I've been in this house before! It used to belong to the XXX family didn't it?" Sure enough it had - turned out that he used to get sent out to the wilds to stay with the XXX's in the summers. Talk about a small world.

L and I were staying in town for a few days before heading off to California, so we were at mom and dad's in the sewing room (it had been the room shared by my brother and I until we shuffled up to the larger space in the attic). But all those friends there for the wedding were staying in the attic now. The only way from the attic into the rest of the house was (you guessed it) through the sewing room. In addition, remember that mom and dad's house only had one bathroom and the only way to get there from the attic was through the sewing room where L and I were ensconced. We heard nary a peep from the captive guests in the attic all night - of course that may be because we were busy doing other things. {*grin*} In any case, L and I had to be up moderately early in the morning and elsewhere, so we got up and left, not even thinking that we should have perhaps shouted up the stairs that the coast was clear to the bathroom. You wouldn't believe the razzing I have gotten about that from the attic captives over the years.

The upshot of all this is that L and I have a litterally priceless wedding album. Any time friends drop by, all we have to do is bring it out and everyone relives one of the best times ever. And because of the chivaree and cowboy bar and the attic and the mints and ... Everyone has their own unique memory from the event. And those that weren't there can't believe they missed such an outrageous good time. Don't you wish you had been there?

I'm Mad

(Before proceeding, the answer to yesterday's question is octopus. Odd huh?)

 

(And no, I'm not literally mad in either sense fo the word.)

 

Time once more for Mama Kat's Writer's Challenge.

This weeks topics:

1.) “I’m mad at myself. I’m embarrassed. I can’t believe after all these years, I’m still talking about my weight.” Poor Ope. What are you mad at yourself about?

2.) Divorce Dreams…a tempting alternative? A disaster to be avoided? Ever an option? Advice? What’s your take?

3.) What is the joy in your present moment?

4.) List 10 rules you’ve unlearned (meaning 10 things you thought were expected of you or were the “right way” of doing things, but that you now ignore).

5.) Mother’s Day is coming…what is the secret behind the close bond you have with your mom? OR What do you do to create that close bond with your kids?

#1 - I'm Mad
(I think that if I were Oprah, I would just leave it at that: I'm mad!)

I suspect that we all have multiple subjects to be mad or obsessed about. The problem is narrow it down to just one thing. I'm going to say weight for the moment.

I have spent my entire life in the 3 standard deviation range for size (except for a week or two sometime in infancy). I was born a small preemie, one of the smallest to survive at the hospital at the time. I have always claimed that they over cooked me in the oxygen tent after birth. The growth that followed led to me being one of the biggest (both tallest and heaviest) in my class throughout school. That is why I have been 6'5" and 300 lbs. since high school.

The only time I get perturbed is when people design doors too short and chairs too small, when people drive cars so small that even one of my size 16 feet won't fit in the door, etc. But at least I can see above the crowd.


#2 - Divorce Dreams

I think that everyone in a long term marriage has occasional thoughts of divorce. L and I have been married for close to 35 years and I know I have had such thoughts. I suspect L has as well.

Such thoughts tend to occur in the throes or aftermath of a particular disappointment or unmet need. Usually the thought of divorce is completely unrealistic. A few hours or days later, the cold hard light of reality intrudes and you realize that divorce is not going to meet the unmet need. You realize that the shared memories and experiences are more important than the problem. That history and belief in each other will let you work the triggering problem out.

The other big trigger for such thoughts seems to be a crisis of self belief. It is a dangerous trap to start believing you are not good enough and that divorce is a way to let your partner find happiness (or even yourself). Usually the delusion fades away and with it the contemplation of divorce.


The divorce dream becomes problematic when it becomes the wedge that prevents you from working on the underlying problem(s). We've all know couples where the idea of divorce was the axe that sundered the marriage because it stopped the ability to function as a team to solve the underlying problem.


(Confused enough?)




#3 - The Joy


The current joy is the coming of summer. The glorious days of never ending sunshine and green growing things all around. The satisfaction of mowing the lawn and working in the garden. The late evening twilight with the cicadas and birds and even the coyotes.




#4 - 10 Broken Rules

• The best person always wins

• Belief is sufficient to impel action

• People are always honest

• Life is fair

• Liars never prosper

• Change is not a constant

• People never change

• Good plans always work well

• Managing people is easy

• Sleep is always attainable

#5 - Relation to Mom

It's getting late, so I'll just point you to this post from last year.

The Dad Things

Time once more for Mama Kat's Writer's Challenge.

 

This weeks topic of interest to me:

3.) What does that tell you about your father?  List five products your father used (or uses).  Write a longer piece about, at least, one of them.
(writingfix.com)

There are a lot of things that come to mind when I think of all the things dad used, but given that it is spring, I'll stick with yard and garden related things.

The five things I remember dad using in the yard and garden:

• lawn chair
• hand sprinkler
• lawn mower
• spading shovel
• push hoe

The lawn chair and hand sprinkler go together. Many the afternoon and evening I would find dad sitting on his folding lawn chair with sprinkler in hand watering the lawn. He seemed to achieve a zen state sitting there, moving his arm back and forth, watering. Every so often he would bestir himself, move the chair, and resume sprinkling in a new area. He much preferred to water that way over any other. No sprinkling system or stationary sprinkler held a candle to sitting in the breeze amidst the cooling mist and hand sprinkling for dad.

Dad was also lawn mowing fanatic. From the time we were old enough to operate a mower until we found a "real" summer job, we all had lawns all over town to mow. I can remember being so happy when I got a job in a furniture store as the carpet layer's assistant in 9th grade. No more lawns! Carrying rolls of carpet and moving furniture was a snap compared to mowing multiple lawns day after day. But dad actually enjoyed mowing. When dad retired, he started mowing pretty much all the lawns on the block just for the pleasure of mowing. I think he was mowing 7 or more of the neighborhood lawns at his peak. It was one of the sure signs of his final decline and impending death when he could no longer mow.

Dad was also a spader. He liked to spade, sometimes huge tracts. In his later years when he got a roto-tiller, he still liked to spade. Unfortunately he was not a discriminating spader. Seedlings and weeds and ... were all treated to equal opportunity before the shovel when dad spaded. Along with the spading was digging. I can remember dad digging out the stump of an entire mature tree in a day, using shovel and hatchet and a lot of back breaking labor.

When garden season was in swing, dad loved to use a push hoe to keep the weeds and sand burrs down. Like his spading, his push hoeing sometimes lacked discrimination. Mom was often exasperated as her seedlings and young plants joined the weeds in being cut off at the roots and removed.

The amusing part of all this is that during the time I was growing up, I always swore I'd never do any of those things. And now that I am older - I actually enjoy mowing the lawn and spading. But I still haven't fallen in love with the hand sprinkling. {*grin*} Makes me think that dad may have been onto something.

Writing in Code and Other Topics

Time once more for Mama Kat's Writer's Challenge.

This weeks topics:

1.) Baby fever is in the air. Describe what you would do differently as a first time mom.

2.) What book captured your heart? Write about why the first book you loved is the first book you loved.

3.) Who is a bird-brain? Think about all the birds you’ve seen–from songbirds to hunters. Compare one or more people you know to different types of birds in a piece of writing.

4.) Why do we need 26? If you could change the alphabet, what would you do? Add? Subtract? Combine? Simplify? Write about it.

5.) Where does that fear come from? Write about something that frightens you that other people might find ridiculous. Write about it in a poem, a story, or whatever.

So off we go into the gloom and doom.


#1 - First Time Mom
I feel left out since I am clearly not the requisite gender to be a mom. Sexism is alive and well on the web!


#2 - Book O'My Heart
This has different answers depending on how you define first and love. (Sounds like a lawyer blithering, doesn't it?)

The book I loved and read often as a wee tyke is "Digger Dan", written by Patricia Lynn and illustrated by Si Frenkel.

Who can resist the story of the steam shovel that does so many interesting things? Besides, a book with my name on the cover - priceless. Thanks to my mom, I have this book around the house even now. The Son learned to read with it, but it just didn't have the same appeal to him as he was growing up as it did to me.

The first book that I read and fell in love with for the content and the way it was handled was also my first experience of the love of science fiction. The book was Robert Heinlein's "The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress"

followed closely by "Podkayne of Mars" by the same author.

Both books appealed to my pre-teen imagination with adventure, science, emotion, and youngsters thinking deeply and doing well in an adult world. I have both books in my library today and still enjoy reading them, despite the fact they are classified as Heinlein "Juveniles". They led me to other science fiction authors including Heinlein's opus, "Stranger In A Strange Land". It was a summer of intense joy and discovery as I read every science fiction book I could get from the library, my mind and horizons literally expanding with each new word. I'd love to go back to that time.


#3 - Bird of a Feather
(The name used here has no relationship to anyone in real life. If you want to get annoyed, remember it is all in *your* mind. {*grin*})

Long ago, I spent several years serving on an adjunct to the district school board known as the District Accountability Committee (DAC). The DAC did a lot of the detail and grunt work that was used by the school board to make decisions on curriculum, student accomplishment, building maintenance, etc. So we had the joy of seeing many members of the community during our meetings, almost invariably with something of great importance to them on their minds to impart to us.

It was during a DAC meeting that I saw Jim resemble a sage grouse to the point I was sure it had to be an act. You remember the sage grouse mating ritual? Where the male puffs up his chest and struts back and forth cooing and prancing to impress the female grouse. Well Jim pranced back and forth, fingers in his suspenders, chest jutting out through the whole of his speech before the committee. The only thing missing was the hen gallery to appreciate the performance.

#4 - Alphabet
I think 26 letters is too restrictive. We should switch to Mayan with close to 800 identified symbols. Of course as it turns out, there are considerably less 800 real letters. It seems the Mayans liked to represent the same sound by 6 or more different symbols. And then they went the extra step by combining several symbols into one common word/sound. But just think of the beautiful calligraphy and lack of repetition such a scheme makes possible. In any case, allow me to introduce a simple 52 letter roman alphabet mapping for your consideration:

Let me know when you have your message written. {*grin*}


#5 - Fear
Most things don't scare me. But one thing consistently gives me the falling sensation of riding a down elevator. You know, where it feels like your stomach has just crawled up your throat and is heading for the exit? Yeah, that one.

What causes the momentary swell of panic? Stepping close to something solid and not being able to see it. I.e. walking along a path with a cinder block on the edge and not being able to see the block as I pass. Why does this particular act cause that rush of fear and panic? Because after many years as a diabetic, I have lost a lot of sensation in my feet. So if I were to kick or hit the obstruction, the pain warning me to stop comes too late and I have already rammed my foot into the object and probably broken a few toes before the pain can warn me not to do that. It happens often enough that I get that panicky feeling in anticipation of the possible happenstance quite often.

How's that for a rational but seemingly irrational fear?

Ten Alternate Realities

Time once more for Mama Kat's Writer's Challenge. (Which I wouldn't miss in spite of my scarcity earlier in the week.)

This weeks topics:

1.) List of 10 things blogging has taught you.

2.) “Oh please make this a topic for Writer’s Workshop. Pick your favorite song and record your own personal bathroom concert series. I’ll totally do a concert series, I bet I could get my hubby or brother to join in. Now I just need a song… (inspired by Kerri from I’m Just Sayin)

3.) “Sometimes when it’s hard to see with the eyes I’ve been given, I strap on my camera and pray for new ones. I did that yesterday. It helped.” (inspired by Emily from Chatting At The Sky)

4.) “let he who hath no sin cast the first stone…” Is there anything you have judged prematurely, only to find yourself walking in the same shoes later? (inspired by Stephanie from This Blessed Life)

5.) List your top 10 “Spring Trends”. (inspired by Tricia from Desperately Seeking Silence)

#1 - Ten Things Blogging Has Taught Me

• Bloggers come and go; rare is the 3+year blogger.

• Newbies are always welcome.

• A touch of graphical panache helps the words go down.

• There is no predicting what will be popular with readers.

• Taste is a individual thing.

• Subject matter can compensate a lack of writing skill, at least temporarily.

• Interesting blogs (to me) feature lives and interests disjunct from my own.

• Blogging takes a back seat to life and work for most of us from time to time.

• Blogging is addictive in the sense of feeling guilty when you haven't written for a few days.

• Powerful blogs are emotionally raw and uncensored. The rest of us have to be amusing or erudite to make up for lack of raw.

#2 - Bathroom Concert

Given that I am not even allowed to sing in the shower here by myself, there is no chance of me singing and exposing the world. I want at least some people to remain amidst the living to read this blog. {*grin*}

#3 - Camera Eyes

My approach is a bit different. When I can't see with the eyes I have, I put on a new pair of eyes in my imagination and look at the world in a new light. I find that is usually very helpful. With a camera, you can only look at what is really there in a different way; with your imagination you can look at what isn't really there in a way that illuminates what is really there in a different way. One might say that they are two different means to reaching the same end - a different way of seeing reality.

#4 - Getting Stoned

I don't know if I have ever cast the first stone and then been stoned myself, but I have certainly had moments of utter non-understanding and cluelessness towards others. There is one judgment that lingers powerfully; friends and I have discussed it several times over the years.

When we were young, we often thought of some of our classmates/friends as weird, wild, flighty, or just plain out there. This judgment was often made without much deep thought or attempts at understanding. Now more than 40 years later and with additional information in hand, we realize that many times they had home and life situations that made them the way they were.

Somehow you always assume that everyone has a life like yours, free of abuse and exploitation. Unfortunately, that isn't always true. I doubt that it would have changed anything, but I rue making those judgments and not being able to spot the underlying problem. Even one understanding friend could have made all the difference in dealing with the problem they faced. It might have kept those who took their own lives amidst the living.

At least there is hope that it *is* getting better.

#5 - Spring Trends

Fashion advice? From me? I don't think so.

Haiku To You Too

Time once more for Mama Kat's Writer's Challenge.

Being short of time and long of tooth, I choose to persue

3.) Write a Haiku that describes what you love about an ordinary day.
(inspired by Jade from Now that I’m no longer 25…)

as my topic of choice.

The Ordinary Day Haikus

Morning comes upon us

Life renews again

A gift from the sun

Snow atop

Rain below

The mountain reigns

Hot dry itchy wind

Cold wet soothing stream

Balance is inherent

The Vain Blindsided Ego

Time once more for Mama Kat's Writer's Challenge.

This week the prompts are:

1.) You’re so vain. You probably think this post is about you…don’t you?
2.) Tell us about your trip!
3.) A difficult conversation.
4.) Can you almost stop time with your words? Write about the fastest ride you ever had, but describe only a few seconds of it…as though it was happening to slow motion.
(writingfix.com)
5.) Who blind-sided you? Write about a time someone caught you totally off guard.
(writingfix.com)

I will cogitate and then scribe, scribble, set forth, type, etc. on #1 and #5 for the nonce.


#1 - I don't think the post is about me, I know it is! After all, there could be no more interesting subject for a post than the illustrious trio of me, myself, and I.

Your post is about women's feminine products - it is still about me. I just know it. Even if your post is about some horrible TV show I have never seen such as American Idol or Lost or The Bachelor or ... I still know it is about me, if for no other reason than to annoy me.

Every since the moment of my birth, I've known that it is all about me. There was never the slightest doubt in my mind. But I am glad that you are finally catching on, it is tiring to keep reminding everyone to stay on topic -ME!!!

Now if you don't mind, I have to get back to checking out what everyone is saying about me.

#5 - Blindside

Verb	1.	blindside - catch unawares, especially with harmful consequences;
	2.	blindside - attack or hit on or from the side where the attacked person's view is obstructed

So let's go with a combination of definitions 1 and 2.

Way back in the time of the dinosaurs, I played football. It was so long ago that it was in the first years of allowing freshman to play on the varsity teams. I was one of the fortunate (or unfortunate) persons selected to play on the varsity during my freshman year. Given that it was the first year that frosh were allowed to play varsity, there was a certain amount of animosity from the upperclassmen about the intrusion onto their turf.

One fine day we were practicing kickoff coverage. You know, where you run like mad at each other from great distances with the goal of killing each other and then tackling the guy with the ball. The whistle blew signaling the end of the drill and I started to relax when I heard my name shouted from behind me. I turned just in time to be blindsided by the person whose place I had taken. He had a 30 yard run to get up to speed and imparted all of his momentum to me. I must have flown 20 feet through the air to land on my butt. Of course, the perpetrator was laughing his rear end off. He thought it was pretty funny.

I filed his poor behavior away under the revenge area of my mind and continued on. The chance for revenge came the very next day during practice, but I didn't even get a chance to do anything. Seems that his behavior wasn't well accepted by his classmates (and my teammates) and they took turns blindsiding him in every drill we did that day. He wasn't real bright and didn't catch on until near the end of practice and so suffered a number of trips through the air. I actually felt a bit sorry for him.

I never had another bit of trouble with him. It was a great lesson to me about the power of teammates.

Now I come prepared for all blindsides, for in politics and fund raising, everything is allowed. {*grin*}

I'm Better Off Without It

Time once more for the wonders of Mama Kat's Writer's Challenge. This week I take on the topic of:

1.) 10 Reasons why you’re better off without him….or her….or it.

My reasons why I am better off without it:

• It is slow.

• It is old.

• It generates enough heat in operation to warm the whole house.

• It generates more noise than a jet idling by your ear.

• It uses proprietary accessories.

• It is "No longer supported" hardware.

• It is "No longer supported" software.

• The optical drive is broken.

• The built in Ethernet is broken.

• It burns more electricity per year than the cost of a modern replacement.

• It weighs more than 150 lbs.

Have you figured out what it is? It is my old domain backup system manufactured by the no longer extant Sun Microsystems. It was top of the line back in the late 90's when I acquired it, but today its job can be done faster by a cheap Intel box. The only bad thing is that the beast has been reliable as heck. For the last 11 years it has had less than 10 minutes of unplanned downtime. Its replacement box averages that much downtime per month.

So long old friend.

Baby, It's Cold Outside ...

Time once more for Mama Kat's Writers Challenge. This week I like

2.) Describe your worst winter weather story.
(inspired by Alisha from A Day In The Life Of Okie Rednecks)
3.) Tell us about that scar.
(inspired by Katie from Rooftop Harmonies)

 as the prompts to follow in my writing for the nonce.


#2 - The worst weather story is a toss up because the prompt could be taken in several ways: the worst weather experienced in winter, the worst story involving winter weather in some way, or the worst story heard during winter weather. So after 3 microseconds of deliberation, I settled on this one:

Part of my research work when I was at Argonne National Laboratory involved giving academic seminars at universities. One fine February I was scheduled to give a Friday seminar at Iowa State University in Ames. What followed was a real nightmare.

I caught a flight out of O'Hare mid-day on Thursday. The weather called for snow later in the day at Ames, but it was not supposed to cause problems. Now at this point you need to know that I am one of those fortunate people who had two complete sets of wisdom teeth grow completely in. As the last pair rose to full height, I started not being able to close my jaw fully and so the extra teeth were scheduled for removal.

(Have you figure our where this is going?) Mid way to Ames, I hear a crack and suddenly have a mouth full of what feels like gravel. When I examine the detritus, I have a sneaking suspicion that one of my extra teeth had broken. A few cursive probes of the tongue quickly confirmed that I suddenly had a really jagged stump in the back of my jaw.

My first thought was the standard "How long before this bugger really starts to hurt?" That was followed by "What else could go wrong?" I should never have asked that second question. At that point the pilot comes on the intercom and explains that Ames is in the midst of a blizzard, but we may still be able to make it in. So we all are ordered to strap in and the pilot guns it to try and beat the closure of the airport.

We come barreling in for a landing, bobbing and weaving in the winds like a leaf in the autumn winds. It is snowing so hard I can't even see the wing out the window to my right. The pilot comes on back on the intercom and announces that they have closed the airport just as our wheels touched down. We are the last plane that will make it in or out that day. But wait, there is further good news. The Ames airport is connected to the rest of civilization by a number of miles of isolated road. Guess what is also closed - you guessed it, the road to/from the airport.

So let us recap. I have a tooth that has shattered and which I deeply fear will begin to hurt shortly. I am trapped in a closed airport for an unknown length of time in a huge blizzard miles away from the nearest dentist. A few hours of stewing and pacing insures an increasing state of anxiety.

Finally, after eight hours of stewing and fretting and pacing and dreading, the snow plows finally got the road to/from the airport opened enough for a caravan from the airport to town to follow then. At about 1am I get to the hotel and collapse. I have decided that it the tooth hasn't started hurting by now, it might not start until I can get back to Chicago. At least I sure hope so.

Bright and early I had breakfast with some of the faculty from ISU, with fewer in attendance than planned because guess what - there is a blizzard still blowing and snowing out there and they can't make it to campus. Throughout the day several people asked me if I was distracted about something. If only they knew.

Scars? What scars? Just because I have scars from head to toe doesn't mean they are special. I know where my scars are because I suffer from a condition where my scar tissue will not stop growing. When I have surgery, the scar usually has to be irradiated to stop the excess tissue growth.  So I'm going to talk about one of my non-surgical scars.

Many years ago when I was a pre-schooler, my brother and I shared a bedroom and set of bunk-beds. Being the older brother, I had the upper bunk. One day as I climbed the wooden ladder up to my bunk, the ladder broke. The sharp end of the bottom half of the ladder hit and skewered the side of my head, barely missing my eye.

A lot of crying and bleeding followed. There was enough blood that mom couldn't see where the cut was at first. I knew it was serious because it was one of the few times I ever saw my mom even slightly rattled. A lot of wet cold towels and ice later it quit bleeding. A nurse friend of mom's came over to look at it to see if we needed to journey the miles to the hospital. The nurse said that it might not hurt to get stitches, but that since the bleeding had stopped, etc. they'd just dress it and see how it was the next day.

That is how I got the scar to the side of my left eye. Yeah, the scar that becomes more and more obvious the older I get and the further my hairline sprints from it. That scar.

Ahhh, I Don't Hardly Know Her ...

Once more dear friends, into the breech we go. Time for Mama Kat's Writer's Challenge. This week I have choosen to do only one topic:

1.) A song you can’t escape.
(inspired by Stefanie from I’m not much into health food, I am into champagne)

My take is a bit different than the standard lyrics rattling around the skull driving me to distraction. The other night I was listening to music as I finished working on some work work. What to my wondering ears should appear but

followed by

I was struck, in that off-hand stunning way that coincidence slaps you up side the head, by the fact that these songs are associated in my mind with two milestones in the journey to adulthood.

What milestones you ask? Well, Louie, Louie was the first rock song I ever heard performed by a live band. Granted it was a group of fellow junior high classmates playing at the first school dance of my seventh grade career, but it is cemented forever in my mind as the epitome of live and music. To this day more than 40 years later I cannot hear Louie, Louie (or Sitting On The Dock In The Bay by Otis Redding) without casting my mind back to the excitement and sheer joy the live sound brought me. The body throbbing bass, the impact of the drums, the crisp drone of the electric guitars - there is nothing better in the world.

A couple of years later it was 1969 and Crimson & Clover was dominating the AM airwaves. It coincided with the time when I was first seriously entranced by the idea of feminine companionship. Yup, that was when I suffered my first crush on a {*gasp*} girl. Heck, it was the first time I even seriously thought of girls as truly desirable to hang out with for reasons different than guys. Every time I hear Crimson & Clover, I am immediately back in the heady brew of feelings and desires and hormones and melancholy thoughts from that time. Not to mention all the drugs and hallucinogens that were rampant in the world as the 60's came to a close.

The powerful associations formed by music with our emotional and mental state when we first heard it is spooky and wonderful. Hearing the music brings the memories flooding back. But I wonder if the additional social element of community commonality that my generation had continues today. (Stick with me here - you'll soon understand what I'm blithering about!) When I was going through adolescence, we all heard the same songs at the same times on the AM and then FM radio. You and all your cohorts heard the same music at the same time, sharing the same music with a common set of experiences. It was only in college that non-synchronous introduction of different music via {*gasp*} vinyl records began to separate out tastes and preferences.

Contrast that experience with kids of the same age today. Each of them tends to listen to their own collection based more on the intesection of exposure and their social networking. Even a group as small as two is likely to have two separate iPods in their individual ears, listening to different sounds. Thus, I suspect that the common music/experience phenomenon is lost in the generations of today. The commonality is no longer in the experience of and while listening, it is the selection of what to add to the collection and to play. A very different set of memories.

What do you think?

Advice For The Lovelorn

OK, so I lied. But the title go you to read didn't it. It's that time of the week - time for Mama Kat's Writer's Challenge. This week featured a number of prompts that didn't enthuse me to the point of taking quill in hand (or finger to keyboard as the case may be). But at least number one came through and spoke to me:

1.) Share one piece of great advice you’ve received from someone who knows stuff…

Rather than one piece of advice, I thought I'd share several.

• Water flows toward money. (From my grandfather, in reference to the fact that money can abrogate water rights quicker than a lightning flash.)
  

• If a simple physical model can't explain it, you have the wrong idea. (Richard P. Feynman on why complex mathematical models of reality are often wrong.)
  

• There will be many people you can love and who can love you in your life. The one you marry will be the one you are in love with at the same time you both want to get married. (A paraphrase of a discussion with my mother.)
  

• Don't tease the sow. (My uncle, warning us to stay away from the vicious man-eater that was the old breding pig.)

So what is your good advice?

BTW, here are some tidbits of advice I found floating around Google:

Which one do you think is better?

Writer's Challenge A Go Go

It's that time of the week - time for Mama Kat's Writer's Challenge. So here are this weeks topics:

1.) I recently read all about the importance of us bloggers developing an “Elevator Pitch” via one of my new favorite blogs. According Wikipedia and Elevator Pitch is “an overview of an idea for a product, service, or project. The name reflects the fact that an elevator pitch can be delivered in the time span of an elevator ride (for example, thirty seconds or 100-150 words).” Create one short (a sentence long) and one longer (100 – 150 words) Elevator Pitch describing what your blog is about.
(inspired by Darren from Problogger)

2.) The strangest dream ever…
(inspired by Amo from Where A Woman Shakes Her Tablecloth.)

3.) Write a list of 10 things that can be done to stave off boredom.
(inspired by Lourie from CA Girl).

4.) “How many homes have you had? Write a journal entry about ALL the places you’ve called ‘home’ in your life.”
(inspired by writingfix.com).

5.) “Why wouldn’t they just start over? Write a story where a character refuses to go back to square one.”
(inpired by writingfix.com).

Given that I am running a bit short of time, I am going to only do #s 1, 2, 3, and 4. You'll have to visit Mama Kat to see about those who tackled #5.


#1 - First the short version:

The random ramblings of an over-observant obsessive.

Then the longer version:

My day to day rants, raves, observations, and punish humor. Originally started to get my writing muscles back in tone, but now continuing because it is fun. One of the few blogs with absolutely no commercial interest. No solicited reviews, giveaways, ads, or pushes to go see the ring of connected commercialism that is much of blogging.

#2 -  I already brushed on this topic in this post. The full version runs thus.

I had a very vivid dream. As I was strolling down the path, I was accosted by a group of pygmies chanting and dancing. Since they spoke no English and I spoke no Pygmy, communication was difficult. Eventually it became somewhat clear that the pygmies had formed a company to commercialize and market their rib sauce that had been passed down from elder to younger since the dawn of time. Their claim was that it was the world's best rib sauce. Suddenly I was buried under a mass of pygmies who were all chanting

Bar Be Que
Bar Be Que
We Eat You!

And then I woke up.

#3 - Some quick time wasters:

• Read Google's News Headlines
• Conduct random web searches
• Add up the numbers of your social security number, your date of birth, and your telephone number to see if the total is divisible by eleven
• Chew the end of a ballpoint pen
• Practice levitating 
• Write your obituary 
• Visit Ask500People.com  
• Visit AwkwardFamilyPhotos.com
• Send and read twits via Twitter
• Write on your blog
  

 

#4 - I have lived in 13 places since birth. It starts with the little house on the left side in this aerial picture:

I spent from age 0 to ~3 living there.

Next we moved into town to a house that I remember primarily because it had wagon wheels painted green and white for a fence. The wheels were taller than I was and fascinated me greatly.  We were there a year or so. (The house still stands today, but the wagon wheels disappeared sometime in the 80's)

From there we moved to a small stucco house with a large picture window on the edge of dry land field. I talked about this house here. It was in an unincorporated oil field exploration community of maybe 30 houses and not much else.

Then we moved to a town of about 350 in Nebraska. That was where I attended kindergarten through third grade. I remember that house because it has a big back yard and grape vines. Perfect for my brother and I and the neighborhood kids to play army and cowboys and indians. One of the adjacent houses was built underground since the area got hit with tornadoes year after year and they got tired of rebuilding. I suffered my first crush on an older woman when the neighbor's daughter gave me an old pair of her roller skates.

We moved back here to this town in time for me to start fourth grade. It is the house that mom still lives in today. What I remember from the early years is that the house had been built in the first quarter of the century by a local craftsman who used no milled lumber. Every piece of the frame was hand adzed to size and shape and no two were the same. So when we remodeled it was an interesting type of do-it-your-self project. It was also full of mysterious things like a family bible from the old country in German, etc. Fortunately the next door neighbor knew a bit about the history and the family who had lived there.

Then I went away to college and lived in a dorm and then a frat house. On the way from college to graduate school, L and I got married and arrived in California to find no housing available for us due to a snafu. We eventually found an apartment in a complex after spending some time on a fellow grad students spare bunk bed set. The complex stands out for being painted in brown, brown, and more brown as was typical in California at the time. After a couple of years we rented a nice little duplex that had a private patio and a fireplace. It sat less than half a block from the green belt through the town and was a gorgeous place.

After graduate school, we moved to the suburbs of Chicago and a ground floor apartment in Naperville. It was all white and had shag carpeting. We lived there for three years and experienced some real firsts there. The first time we had a car stolen, the first time with -50F temperatures causing ice to form on the inside walls even with the heat on, and the first time living near an abusive couple. Needless to say, we were ready to move on from the Chicago area.

Then it was off to Manhattan Beach, CA. We rented a house for the first year and it was a typical beach community bungalow, with a full size swimming pool in the back yard. It had roses in the front yard and a huge hedge along one side of the lot. It also had termites.

The next year, L and I bought our first place - a unit in a triplex in Redondo Beach - just up the road a ways. Our unit was gray stucco and 3 stories tall with an underground garage. It was during our years there that we found out we were going to have the Son.

Finally, we moved back here where we have lived for the last 20+ years. The Son was born and grew up here. You can see what the interior of the house looks like here. It is a big ranch style house with a brick exterior and attached garage. It was built in the 60's and the only other owner is the the doctor that is my eye specialist. I went to school with some of his kids, including a younger one named Dan, so you might say it has come full circle.

Missing

Due to time constraints on a networked software test later today and a meeting with the press, I'm not going to be able to post for Mama Kat's Writer's Challenge this week.

Enjoy a break free of sarcasm and snark. {*grin*} I should be back to inflict pain and suffering in your reader tonight.

Nostradamus Strikes Again

Time for some distraction from the snow and wind outside (not to mention the sub-zero temperatures). I.e. it is time once more for Mama Kat's Writer's Challenge. This week's topics:

1.) Describe what you would change about yourself if you could.
2.) Book Review! What children’s book do you hate reading to your child?
(inspired by E. from Mommy’s Still Fabulous)
3.) What do you predict will happen this decade? (You can be funny or serious if you like).
(inspired by Christopher from CaJoh)
4.) Choose the 7th picture you took from last January and write a poem.
5.) Write about a heated argument you had with your parents (real or fictitious).
(inspired by Writer’s Digest)

Hi ho and away we go.

#1 - There are a lot of things about me I would like to change. Unfortunately most of them are things that there is no realistic way to change and if I iterated them all, this post could reach epic lengths. So I will limit myself to a few day to day nits.

• My hair to return or go away entirely.
• My hair to finally just be all gray or return to black. Trying to "style" half a head of 95% gray hair isn't easy.
• To stop aching. All the broken bones and stretched ligaments of a lifetime make me an acute weather predictor. If the left shoulder hurts, it is going to storm. If the right hand hurts, it will be cold. If the feet throb like mad it is going to be clear. And the worst thing is that I can still remember when nothing hurt and weather was a thing to watch and not predict.
• To return to the flexible strength of my twenties.
• And of course if we can ask for anything, I'd love to be handsome, lantern jawed, with abs of steel, have perfect eyesight, have an awesome super power or two, and rule the world in my spare time. {*grin*}
  

#2 - I need to modify this one a bit to say which book I *hated* to read. Given it has been more than a decade since reading to the Son, some of the pain is beginning to fade. {*grin*}

When I was a kid, my favorite book was Digger Dan. Of course it re-surfaced (thanks mom) to read to the Son. Somehow the prose lost much appeal over the interleaving 30+ years and the happy ending became less of a surprise. So Digger Dan is one selection.

The other book is actually any one of the Richard Scarry books, especially Busytown. Not only the interminable reading packed with alliteration, there was also the computer game that could drive one close to distraction with its continuous verbalization. Admittedly they are all great books and were loved by the Son, just a bit repetitive for me. Not only that, but the books were all complex enough that the Son wanted them read to him night after night and then to read them aloud still more times as he learned to read.


#3 - Things I predict will happen this decade:

Technology:

• The smartphone hardware market will consolidate.
• The number of smartphone operating systems will shrink to 3 - iPhone, Android, and probably RIM.
• Microsoft will buy one of the other smartphone OSs (like Palm) and so badly bungle the subsequent marketing effort that the OS will die.
• Hard copy books will disappear in favor of eBooks of various forms.
  

and finally, I'll go a little farther out on the limb with

• Home PCs will disappear in favor of an interface unit that connects via the net to a cloud of computing resources and storage.

Personal:

• I will lose more hair.
• My hair will finally turn completely gray.
• My joints will ache more.
• Getting up in the morning will become more of a task.
• I will continue to be amazed at the important things youngsters don't know how to do.

#4 - I took no pictures last January, so I have nothing to show nor exposit upon.

Believe nothing, no matter where you read it, or who said it, no matter if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense. - Buddha

#5 - The topic inspires me not. Instead I'll put forth an old chesnut and see if it tickles your brain.

A mother make tasty toast in a small pan. After toasting one side of a slice, she turns it over. Each side takes 30 seconds. The pan can only hold 2 slices. How can she toast both sides of three slices in 90 seconds?

The answer is in the first comment.

Challenge For A New Year

Life is returning to normal after two funerals and L's return to the mountains for business, just in time for this year's final Writer's Challenge from Mama Kat. This weeks topics include:

1.) Your pet wants to guest post on your blog.
(inspired by Matthew at Child’s Play x2)

2.) You wake up one day with an unusual super power that seems pretty worthless—until you are caught in a situation that requires that specific “talent.”
(inspired by Writer’s Digest)

3.) Write about a speech you gave at a wedding.

4.) Write a letter to someone you received poor customer service from.
(inspired by Lynsey from Sassy & Southern)

5.) This time I really MEAN it! It’s time to list your New Year’s resolutions for 2010.
(inspired by Margaret from Nanny Goats In Panties)

 So without further delay, let's see what comes out!


#1 - (Molly the dog here filling in for my master)

What is the problem you have understanding my requests for chewies? I know you can interpret my look as I gaze adoringly at you, eyes large and irresistable as the sun goes down. I know you know what I want. Especially since you oft times tell me "Not now." or "Too early."

I have to tell you that it is never too early for the wonderful taste of a chicken infused rawhide chewie. Have I ever refused one? Heck, even when I haven't ventured forth from my bed all day, I still eagerly hop and jump at the sound of the magical words "Want a chewie?" It is always time for a chewie. So how can you even attempt to tell me it isn't? How can you? Huh? Huh? What?

Sorry, I lost my train of thought there. My master just asked me if I wanted a chewie. Now what were we talking about?


#2 - I can remember as I grew into the strength of my power. It seemed so useless. Who really wanted to be blessed with the ability to forget anyone's name within seconds of hearing it. I might have known you for forty years, but the second anyone asked me your name, all there was was a complete blank. I became an expert at bestowing nicknames just because I couldn't remember names. Thus my life was filled with stinky and shorty and goofy and ... precisely because I could not remember anyone's name.

But then one foggy night, my worthless super-power came to the fore. It began when Santa came asking for help on his delivery route. I was put in charge of the "naughty, not nice" list. It seemed to be a real mistake by the jolly man in red, but I was prepared to do my best. The way the list worked was simple - if the list holder read your name on the list, they then knew you and your name. If they knew your name, you had been naughty and got a lump of coal or less.

It was clear that Christmas Eve might be a bit different with me in charge of the bad list. Every person I saw was a complete blank as to name. I could have known them all my life, but when I saw them I drew a complete blank, even after reading the list. And unfortunately, Santa used a very poor phraseology to ask if the person was on the bad list: "Do you know this person?"

It led to some odd gifting choices. Even axe murderers on death row got presents. Heck, even dogmatic partisan politicians were gifted. So if you got more and better gifts than you deserved when you opened packages on Christmas morning, it is because I didn't know your name. So I inadvertently made the day using my super-power. After all, since everyone, be they naughty or nice, got presents form Santa, the main cause of sibling rivalry was eliminated. Billions of parents enjoyed a peaceful day without the constant squables of the kids claiming one another got more or better gifts. And at least one axe murderer vowed to restict his work to Thanksgiving turkeys in the future! (Sorry, partisan politicians are just plain unredeemable.)


#3 - I have never given a speech at a wedding, so this one is going to get a skip.


#4 - Here it is (from this post)

Dear Ms. Salesperson:

I appreciated your cheerful insistence on talking to me today with that "important news" about better online storage strategies, but I did not care for the way you ignored my protestations of "Not interested!" and "Goodbye!" I especially did not care for the fact that you felt compelled to call me back after I pointedly hung up the telephone. It would seem that me telling you that I am not interested should be enough for you to cease and desist. Since it wasn't and you called to interrupt me yet again, I am taking the time to write you this letter.

Because of your ill-mannered and ill-considered actions, I will never consider the purchase of any product from you or XYZ, Inc. The lack of consideration for purchase will also extend to any of my clients who seek my opinion on the products of XYZ, Inc.

I hope you will share this letter with your supervisor and the president of XYZ, Inc. I have taken the liberty of assisting you in sharing by sending them a copy of this letter for their files under separate cover.

Sincerely,


My Real Name


#5 - I don't normally do New Year's Resolutions, but just for you I herewith present my 2010 Resolutions:

• I resolve to worry less and enjoy life more.
  

• I resolve to treat others with the respect they show me.
  

• I resolve to talk to Molly the dog more.
  

• I resolve to stop and smell the roses.
  

• I resolve to learn as many new things as I can.
  

• I resolve to conquer a fear - maybe nude skydiving?
  

• I resolve to become more organized.