"You came all this way just to see this?"
That question was posed by a tall blonde woman who had a bit of a blue tongue and too much foundation when we were chatting briefly in Centralia, Pennsylvania. It seemed incomprehensible that I had just ridden my motorcycle 11 hours for "this." Although, she had talked a friend into going four hours for the same purpose and I can only imagine that they were headed home that same day.
2014 finally ends with my last of that year's vacation consumed.
"but what can you expect these days? ... Company policy." - Mugwump
It is amazing how much clarity comes form several days of not working. I supposed I get used to five days in, two out, but the last 8 days have been like mental floss; cleaning the detritus that can't get cleared by the typical weekend.
"Your're missin' the whole point, Ed." - Lewis
The day in, day out, year in, year out creates a numbness, too easy to get caught up in the eddy currents. Things seem like they are moving at a rapid pace, but in reality not much is going anywhere. My time at work has a cost; they pay me to be there and I try to do the right thing while I'm there. My time outside of work has no cost since it would cost too much - there is nothing more valuable than my time that is really mine.
Tomorrow I'll be back at work for one day, before restarting a full week a few days later.
"There's no end to it." - Bobby
I ended my time off with a bang, by going target shooting for a while. It was another amazing late spring morning and surprisingly, I had the range to myself. It just doesn't get much better than that, especially when the targets all seemed to be in the right place.
My eight days allowed me time to do everything I was hoping to and then some. Sometimes, life smiles and things can work out.
Now, desparately fighting the natural neural tendencies to think ahead to what is coming...
"But the race is over." - Hotelier
"Not for me it isn't!" - Raoul Duke
I think I told her I was looking for an excuse to go to Pennsylvania coal country, but I should have proudly told the woman standing on a destroyed section of PA-61 covered in graffiti, "Yes, I came all this way just for this." But, that would not have been entirely true. The destination wasn't nearly as important as the act getting there. The clarity of a few days out of work, riding a motorcycle hundreds of miles through cold temperatures, rain, warm temperatures and sun make the destination one that everyone should go to. Because it is there and because more of life should look squalid to the outside world.
"Actual Happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the overcompensations for misery." - Aldous Huxley
Thursday, April 30, 2015
Friday, April 24, 2015
April Vacation
In the day in, day out, year in, year out that is life, the end of April 2015 brings the requirement to use the final days of my 2014 vacation. Six days of vacation and 8 out of the office with no agenda. Well, maybe more accurately an evolving agenda.
I started the vacation's first morning by reading American Hunter, the NRA magazine. Then I finished listening to the book Let's Explore Diabetes with Owls by David Sedaris. This is an almost incomprehensible pairing. While the NRA is, in theory, a single-issue non-partisan organization, the positions of the two major US political parties means that the NRA is somewhat right leaning. Anybody who has read anything by David Sedaris knows that he leans somewhat left. But, the magazine was there and I had started to listen to Diabetes on the way home from Michigan two weeks ago and didn't finish it before I got home. I've also, on occasion, listened to NPR while on the way to the range to target shoot, so the dichotomy is nothing new.
I've read just about every book David Sedaris has written and have enjoyed them. This book did take a more decidedly political slant which I found a little sad. Between that and the bizarre fictional-story end of the book, it almost seemed like his material was running thin. I read When You Are Engulfed in Flames last year and thought it was great so I'll hold out any long-term judgement for now.
Later in the day, I got a tattoo. This was a tattoo that was almost five years in the making, so was actually kind of momentous, but there will be plenty of time to talk about that later - maybe after it heals.
I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to do with my time off. I have some ideas, but I probably need a day or two to decompress from work. Sitting around sounded depressingly fine initially, but the urge to travel grows with each hour. A plan is forming; I need to convince the weather and timing to cooperate.
It would be nice to think that weather this time of year is averagely warm and dry, but average in April really means highly variable.
In a lot of ways, waiting until the witching hour to take my vacation is not smart. Yet, the "forced" time off this time of year is a both a good respite and good mental preparation that spring will lead to summer with more to come...
I started the vacation's first morning by reading American Hunter, the NRA magazine. Then I finished listening to the book Let's Explore Diabetes with Owls by David Sedaris. This is an almost incomprehensible pairing. While the NRA is, in theory, a single-issue non-partisan organization, the positions of the two major US political parties means that the NRA is somewhat right leaning. Anybody who has read anything by David Sedaris knows that he leans somewhat left. But, the magazine was there and I had started to listen to Diabetes on the way home from Michigan two weeks ago and didn't finish it before I got home. I've also, on occasion, listened to NPR while on the way to the range to target shoot, so the dichotomy is nothing new.
I've read just about every book David Sedaris has written and have enjoyed them. This book did take a more decidedly political slant which I found a little sad. Between that and the bizarre fictional-story end of the book, it almost seemed like his material was running thin. I read When You Are Engulfed in Flames last year and thought it was great so I'll hold out any long-term judgement for now.
Later in the day, I got a tattoo. This was a tattoo that was almost five years in the making, so was actually kind of momentous, but there will be plenty of time to talk about that later - maybe after it heals.
I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to do with my time off. I have some ideas, but I probably need a day or two to decompress from work. Sitting around sounded depressingly fine initially, but the urge to travel grows with each hour. A plan is forming; I need to convince the weather and timing to cooperate.
It would be nice to think that weather this time of year is averagely warm and dry, but average in April really means highly variable.
In a lot of ways, waiting until the witching hour to take my vacation is not smart. Yet, the "forced" time off this time of year is a both a good respite and good mental preparation that spring will lead to summer with more to come...
Sunday, April 19, 2015
In Defense of the Speling Mistake
Hank: So you see you can’t rewrite because to rewrite is to deceive and lie and to betray your own thoughts. To rethink a flow of the rhythm, a tumbling out of the words is a betrayal, and it is a sin, Martin.
Martin: I don’t accept your catholic interpretation of my compulsive necessity to rewrite every word at least 1000 times. Guilt is the key, not sin, guilt. Re not writing the best that I can. Re not considering everything from every possible angle, balancing everything.
Hank: Well how about guilt, censoring your best thoughts. Your most honest primitive real thoughts. Because that is what your laborious rewriting amounts to.
Martin: Is rewriting really censorship, Bill? Because I’m completely fucked if it is.
Bill: Exterminate rational thought. That is the conclusion I have come to.
Martin: What is the man talking about, I’m being serious.
Hank: So is he.
I was reading an online review of a self-published book recently. It was on WordPress or something that allowed commentary not usually seen on Amazon. Most of the reviews were very positive, but one from a purulent looking woman was caustic. She did not complain about the story, but attacked what sounded like a relatively few grammar and punctuation inconsistencies. She, frankly, sounded like my college English professor who stated within the first few classes that she wanted to help change the way commas are used in written English. The author responded to the review, asking for specifics. Two were given, one which as written seemed to follow The Chicago Manual of Style - not that I believe Chicaugou is definitively the ultimate authority of all linguists.
Contrast that review with a written eulogy in a magazine I read a couple years ago. I do not remember the magazine, editor, or writer, but the editor wrote that on taking the editor position, he was initially frustrated by the now-deceased outdoor writer's poor use of grammar and especially punctuation. But, after working at the magazine for some time, he found the writers stories so compelling, that correcting the grammar became more of a calling, not a frustration. The writer, apparently, would occasionally end his written text with a series of punctuation marks; initially confused by this, the editor eventually decided this was an admonition by the writer that his writing wasn't always perfect, and it was the editors job to find the place for the trailing punctuation.
Some spelling, grammar, and syntax errors are a bit hard to understand as software like Microsoft Word and Google Chrome love to put squiggly lines under algorithmically identified errors. I'm not sure that these actions along with auto-correct are not partially to blame for any apparent deterioration in spelling; the mechanization of intellect.
This is not to say that there are not places for purulent grammarists. Our textbooks should be nearly perfect; my own experience is that they are often not. It is wise for the New York Times to have well-paid and capable copy editors.
This can be taken too far. At the risk of being overly cliche, the syntaxinista too often ignores the forest for the trees while ignoring the trees for the leaves.
The grammarist is too quick to send the classic car to the crusher due to a faulty window winding mechanism, rather than take a step back and enjoy the beauty of the car and the thrill of driving it on a perfect April day. The spelling police will self-righteously chortle at a misuse of bear when bare is meant (but is the spelling police sure?). The syntaxinista will quickly kill the newborn calf since the spots on the calf are not symmetrical between her left and right side, rather than enjoy the milk for years.
Tell me a story and keep me interested from the first word to the last. Write a book which is so filled with non sequiturs that I can't tell what is going on, but refuse to put it down. Make me late for work while I finish listening to a compelling story in parking lot. I'll accept the flaws in the writing. I'll ignore a tumbling of the words or the odd spelling mistake.
The human brain has the unbelievable ability to take a slightly garbled sentence and turn it into a completely comprehensible thought. We should embrace that ability when called on. I'll accept the sin of poor vocabulary if what is being said demands it.
Rather than anger or resentment, I feel pity for the purulent, caustic woman who was compelled to give a negative review on a book for a few spelling mistakes. In addition to her perfect use of punctuation, I hope she has something worth saying.
Martin: I don’t accept your catholic interpretation of my compulsive necessity to rewrite every word at least 1000 times. Guilt is the key, not sin, guilt. Re not writing the best that I can. Re not considering everything from every possible angle, balancing everything.
Hank: Well how about guilt, censoring your best thoughts. Your most honest primitive real thoughts. Because that is what your laborious rewriting amounts to.
Martin: Is rewriting really censorship, Bill? Because I’m completely fucked if it is.
Bill: Exterminate rational thought. That is the conclusion I have come to.
Martin: What is the man talking about, I’m being serious.
Hank: So is he.
From Naked Lunch (the movie)
I was reading an online review of a self-published book recently. It was on WordPress or something that allowed commentary not usually seen on Amazon. Most of the reviews were very positive, but one from a purulent looking woman was caustic. She did not complain about the story, but attacked what sounded like a relatively few grammar and punctuation inconsistencies. She, frankly, sounded like my college English professor who stated within the first few classes that she wanted to help change the way commas are used in written English. The author responded to the review, asking for specifics. Two were given, one which as written seemed to follow The Chicago Manual of Style - not that I believe Chicaugou is definitively the ultimate authority of all linguists.
Contrast that review with a written eulogy in a magazine I read a couple years ago. I do not remember the magazine, editor, or writer, but the editor wrote that on taking the editor position, he was initially frustrated by the now-deceased outdoor writer's poor use of grammar and especially punctuation. But, after working at the magazine for some time, he found the writers stories so compelling, that correcting the grammar became more of a calling, not a frustration. The writer, apparently, would occasionally end his written text with a series of punctuation marks; initially confused by this, the editor eventually decided this was an admonition by the writer that his writing wasn't always perfect, and it was the editors job to find the place for the trailing punctuation.
Some spelling, grammar, and syntax errors are a bit hard to understand as software like Microsoft Word and Google Chrome love to put squiggly lines under algorithmically identified errors. I'm not sure that these actions along with auto-correct are not partially to blame for any apparent deterioration in spelling; the mechanization of intellect.
This is not to say that there are not places for purulent grammarists. Our textbooks should be nearly perfect; my own experience is that they are often not. It is wise for the New York Times to have well-paid and capable copy editors.
This can be taken too far. At the risk of being overly cliche, the syntaxinista too often ignores the forest for the trees while ignoring the trees for the leaves.
The grammarist is too quick to send the classic car to the crusher due to a faulty window winding mechanism, rather than take a step back and enjoy the beauty of the car and the thrill of driving it on a perfect April day. The spelling police will self-righteously chortle at a misuse of bear when bare is meant (but is the spelling police sure?). The syntaxinista will quickly kill the newborn calf since the spots on the calf are not symmetrical between her left and right side, rather than enjoy the milk for years.
Tell me a story and keep me interested from the first word to the last. Write a book which is so filled with non sequiturs that I can't tell what is going on, but refuse to put it down. Make me late for work while I finish listening to a compelling story in parking lot. I'll accept the flaws in the writing. I'll ignore a tumbling of the words or the odd spelling mistake.
The human brain has the unbelievable ability to take a slightly garbled sentence and turn it into a completely comprehensible thought. We should embrace that ability when called on. I'll accept the sin of poor vocabulary if what is being said demands it.
Rather than anger or resentment, I feel pity for the purulent, caustic woman who was compelled to give a negative review on a book for a few spelling mistakes. In addition to her perfect use of punctuation, I hope she has something worth saying.
Saturday, April 18, 2015
80's Music and Coffee
I had a dental appointment recently. For many years, I avoided the dentist - and I do mean many years. Those years caught up with the reality of getting older so a couple years ago I went and have been faithfully going ever since. Eventually I'll have to succumb to the same pain in going to the doctor for an annual check-up .. maybe. There is no shortage of articles questioning the necessity of an annual doctor visit. I'm suspect that a few minutes with an overly-hurried doctor will actually do much that my boring lifestyle won't do. About the only reason I can see to do an annual physical is to avoid a scramble to find a doctor when something does appear to be wrong. That, however, is more of an indictment of the current state of the current medical system.
I like my dental hygienist and she is somewhat good-looking; she splits the line appropriately between talking while simultaneously prodding inside my mouth. She is also a sadist. I cringe when the ultrasonic screamer comes out to clean my teeth, and I feel like I need a bullet to bite on - I guess that would defeat the purpose of the dental visit in more ways than one. The most recent visit was completed using a scraper, which sounds terrible and takes longer but is still preferable to the ultrasonic screamer.
Despite a fairly rigorous personal dental hygiene routine, the time my teeth-cleaning takes at my semi-annual dental visit is painfully long. I'm sure my daily coffee is partly responsible for this, but I refuse to give up my morning pot of coffee. When I say pot, I'm talking a small dorm-room size auto-drip pot that is almost antique in age.
I've moved on from the cheapest coffee to something slightly better that doesn't taste like drinking a grass hut. For a while, I was trying coffees that were were quite expensive, but the reality is that, above a certain quality level, the returns on the increase in taste of coffee diminish very, very quickly with increasing price. This is despite what the jack-wad coffee snobs expound. There are no shortage of experts to tell us why were wrong, dumb or wasting our lives on ordinary bottled water.
I'm currently drinking Kroger's Private Selection Guatemalan Antiguan.
It is pretty good, and a lighter contrast to my usual Sumatran Mandheling, which is a much darker roast.
A few bags ago I bought the slightly more expensive Westrock Rwanda coffee. I'm not sure if I believe Africa (or the world) will be saved by fair trade coffee, but I suppose it can't hurt. The coffee ... tasted like coffee.
The current trend continues to be the single cup Keurig "pods" that now take up a fantastic amount of wall space at my local Kroger. Not only are these amazingly expensive when making decent coffee is already fairly quick and easy, but the disposed plastic per cup seems heinously wasteful, aside from the added expense. Even the Inventor of the K-cup regrets the idea and doesn't even own one. Newer Keurig brewers are reported to "block" other pods or reusable baskets - an idea that shows the moronity of the entire pod concept.
The music playing at the dentist's office at my recent visit seemed to be some kind of mix from the 80's. My hygienist said it was due to the office recently getting satellite radio as the broadcast radio was too repetitive. I have a satellite radio on my Triumph Trophy motorcycle, but never got it to work. I also never tried too hard. I guess satellite radio might make sense in a dentist's office, but the cost model seems undefendable - $15 per month per radio - the K-Cup of music; it might be worth it if I could pay for it once but then use it on multiple radios, instead of just on the motorcycle.
Near the end of my dental visit, REO Speedwagon came over the satellite radio and I almost made a joke about junior high school make-out music before realizing how utterly creepy that could sound when someone is working in my mouth. Had I not caught myself, I would have deserved the ultrasonic screamer.
I like my dental hygienist and she is somewhat good-looking; she splits the line appropriately between talking while simultaneously prodding inside my mouth. She is also a sadist. I cringe when the ultrasonic screamer comes out to clean my teeth, and I feel like I need a bullet to bite on - I guess that would defeat the purpose of the dental visit in more ways than one. The most recent visit was completed using a scraper, which sounds terrible and takes longer but is still preferable to the ultrasonic screamer.
Despite a fairly rigorous personal dental hygiene routine, the time my teeth-cleaning takes at my semi-annual dental visit is painfully long. I'm sure my daily coffee is partly responsible for this, but I refuse to give up my morning pot of coffee. When I say pot, I'm talking a small dorm-room size auto-drip pot that is almost antique in age.
I've moved on from the cheapest coffee to something slightly better that doesn't taste like drinking a grass hut. For a while, I was trying coffees that were were quite expensive, but the reality is that, above a certain quality level, the returns on the increase in taste of coffee diminish very, very quickly with increasing price. This is despite what the jack-wad coffee snobs expound. There are no shortage of experts to tell us why were wrong, dumb or wasting our lives on ordinary bottled water.
I'm currently drinking Kroger's Private Selection Guatemalan Antiguan.
It is pretty good, and a lighter contrast to my usual Sumatran Mandheling, which is a much darker roast.
A few bags ago I bought the slightly more expensive Westrock Rwanda coffee. I'm not sure if I believe Africa (or the world) will be saved by fair trade coffee, but I suppose it can't hurt. The coffee ... tasted like coffee.
The current trend continues to be the single cup Keurig "pods" that now take up a fantastic amount of wall space at my local Kroger. Not only are these amazingly expensive when making decent coffee is already fairly quick and easy, but the disposed plastic per cup seems heinously wasteful, aside from the added expense. Even the Inventor of the K-cup regrets the idea and doesn't even own one. Newer Keurig brewers are reported to "block" other pods or reusable baskets - an idea that shows the moronity of the entire pod concept.
The music playing at the dentist's office at my recent visit seemed to be some kind of mix from the 80's. My hygienist said it was due to the office recently getting satellite radio as the broadcast radio was too repetitive. I have a satellite radio on my Triumph Trophy motorcycle, but never got it to work. I also never tried too hard. I guess satellite radio might make sense in a dentist's office, but the cost model seems undefendable - $15 per month per radio - the K-Cup of music; it might be worth it if I could pay for it once but then use it on multiple radios, instead of just on the motorcycle.
Near the end of my dental visit, REO Speedwagon came over the satellite radio and I almost made a joke about junior high school make-out music before realizing how utterly creepy that could sound when someone is working in my mouth. Had I not caught myself, I would have deserved the ultrasonic screamer.
Friday, April 3, 2015
Exquisite Fats
It is Good Friday. But then again, any Friday that I don't have to work is a good Friday. The company I work for is dropping Good Friday (Easter) holiday next year and replacing it with an extra personal day (religious sensitivity and political correctness, I suppose). I guess this is a good thing since this really isn't often a usable day off for me. It would be nice if this day was always a splendidly warm and sunny spring day, but that isn't often the case; weather this time of year is quite temperamental. Today is cool with snotty rain; 2014 was tolerably nice, but the last really good year looks like it was 2010: dry with a high in the mid-80s.
I believe I got my motorcycle back from the dealership after killing a deer with it on Good Friday, 2001 - which was also a Friday the 13th. Regardless of the weather, that was a good day. In some ways, I miss my Harley Davidson days...
It would not surprise me if within a few years the company I work for takes away that additional personal day that a future lack of Good Friday holiday is providing. The narrative will go as follows: We lose the Good Friday holiday and get an extra personal day. At some near-future date, the company does a comparison of the number of personal holidays granted to its serfs and decides the number of personal days is not commensurate with other peer companies - it then takes action to remove that holiday at a future date. I suppose that sounds a bit negatively bitter, and maybe even conspiracy oriented.
At least the extra day off gives a day this year to have another lazy morning with cornbread pecan waffles. I added real butter to the batter today, although I'm unsure why I did this. It made the waffles taste quite rich but won't help me meet any Easter's Resolutions.
I saw an article about avocado oil recently. I don't remember the source, but it claimed that avocado oil has nearly magical health properties, "even better than olive or coconut oil." I do not believe this. There is no elixir of life that will mystically bring around better health, and less weight. The whole idea that a fat will result in weight loss is quite preposterous, unless it induces vomiting. Still, I couldn't help but look on Amazon this morning for avocado oil. Maybe syrup of ipecac is a more honest thing to search, although it appears that ipecac is now more in quackery camp and is no longer available commercially, perhaps one day olive and avocado oil will join it.
The cornbread pecan waffles were followed by hot chocolate since I didn't feel like over-caffeinating with more coffee. The hot chocolate had a sell-by date of November 19, 2012. Oh the risks I take!
(belated edit*)
My original plan for Good Friday was to complete a list of things that have needed to be done for some time, but weren't getting done. Instead, I bought Tim Kreider's book Refuse to Drown. I don't usually buy books, but as a self-published book through CreateSpace, this book is not available in any Ohio library (apparently, many libraries are apprehensive about holding self-published books). I started to read it, intending to finish over the three-day weekend, but I could not put it down - it was that good.
I originally found the book after reading a different Tim Kreider's book We Learn Nothing. It was somewhat flippant, but still thought provoking and I was curious if he had written anything else similar. It took quite some time to ensure that the two Tim Kreiders were not the same person - the books have as much in common as oranges and Concorde Jets. Yet, the hook to read the second Tim's book had been set.
Good Friday's morning rain let up for a while but more appears to be imminent, with no way to stop it. The day looks to be an idle one. Perhaps that is something to embrace. In closing on this non sequitur of a Good Friday, I'll quote from Tim Kreider's We Learn Nothing:
Idleness is not just a vacation, an indulgence or a vice; it is as indispensable to the brain as vitamin D is to the body, and deprived of it we suffer a mental affliction as disfiguring as rickets. The space and quiet that idleness provides is a necessary condition for standing back from life and seeing it whole, for making unexpected connections and waiting for the wild summer lightning strikes of inspiration -- it is, paradoxically, necessary to getting any work done.
*I rarely edit these things, even to correct a flaw in the words as I see blogs as a historical record. Do not photoshop the ex-girlfriend out of the family picture! As I reread what I had originally wrote, I realized it sounded more mean-spirited than I had intended. That is not me; at least I hope it is not me.
I believe I got my motorcycle back from the dealership after killing a deer with it on Good Friday, 2001 - which was also a Friday the 13th. Regardless of the weather, that was a good day. In some ways, I miss my Harley Davidson days...
It would not surprise me if within a few years the company I work for takes away that additional personal day that a future lack of Good Friday holiday is providing. The narrative will go as follows: We lose the Good Friday holiday and get an extra personal day. At some near-future date, the company does a comparison of the number of personal holidays granted to its serfs and decides the number of personal days is not commensurate with other peer companies - it then takes action to remove that holiday at a future date. I suppose that sounds a bit negatively bitter, and maybe even conspiracy oriented.
At least the extra day off gives a day this year to have another lazy morning with cornbread pecan waffles. I added real butter to the batter today, although I'm unsure why I did this. It made the waffles taste quite rich but won't help me meet any Easter's Resolutions.
I saw an article about avocado oil recently. I don't remember the source, but it claimed that avocado oil has nearly magical health properties, "even better than olive or coconut oil." I do not believe this. There is no elixir of life that will mystically bring around better health, and less weight. The whole idea that a fat will result in weight loss is quite preposterous, unless it induces vomiting. Still, I couldn't help but look on Amazon this morning for avocado oil. Maybe syrup of ipecac is a more honest thing to search, although it appears that ipecac is now more in quackery camp and is no longer available commercially, perhaps one day olive and avocado oil will join it.
The cornbread pecan waffles were followed by hot chocolate since I didn't feel like over-caffeinating with more coffee. The hot chocolate had a sell-by date of November 19, 2012. Oh the risks I take!
(belated edit*)
My original plan for Good Friday was to complete a list of things that have needed to be done for some time, but weren't getting done. Instead, I bought Tim Kreider's book Refuse to Drown. I don't usually buy books, but as a self-published book through CreateSpace, this book is not available in any Ohio library (apparently, many libraries are apprehensive about holding self-published books). I started to read it, intending to finish over the three-day weekend, but I could not put it down - it was that good.
I originally found the book after reading a different Tim Kreider's book We Learn Nothing. It was somewhat flippant, but still thought provoking and I was curious if he had written anything else similar. It took quite some time to ensure that the two Tim Kreiders were not the same person - the books have as much in common as oranges and Concorde Jets. Yet, the hook to read the second Tim's book had been set.
Good Friday's morning rain let up for a while but more appears to be imminent, with no way to stop it. The day looks to be an idle one. Perhaps that is something to embrace. In closing on this non sequitur of a Good Friday, I'll quote from Tim Kreider's We Learn Nothing:
Idleness is not just a vacation, an indulgence or a vice; it is as indispensable to the brain as vitamin D is to the body, and deprived of it we suffer a mental affliction as disfiguring as rickets. The space and quiet that idleness provides is a necessary condition for standing back from life and seeing it whole, for making unexpected connections and waiting for the wild summer lightning strikes of inspiration -- it is, paradoxically, necessary to getting any work done.
*I rarely edit these things, even to correct a flaw in the words as I see blogs as a historical record. Do not photoshop the ex-girlfriend out of the family picture! As I reread what I had originally wrote, I realized it sounded more mean-spirited than I had intended. That is not me; at least I hope it is not me.
Sunday, March 29, 2015
I Wish That I Knew What I Know Now
Earlier in the week, I had a bit of inexpiable panic when I realized it has been (almost) 20 years since I graduated college. Two decades ago right now, I was furiously sending out resumes and cover letters. I was accepting "Screw You - Don't Call Us - We'll Call You" letters. And, I was starting to interview for jobs. I'm not sure what the reasons were for the panic in this thought; the math is easy and I knew my 20-year anniversary with the company I work for is coming up later this year. Maybe it was another, "Oh Shit, I'm old" moment. Or maybe it is the continuing realization that my life really is optimistically half over.
College was a pretty big milestone, even if I didn't walk in the graduation ceremony (it costs HOW MUCH?). I think by now I was supposed to be a combination of Tom Selleck, Eric Clapton and Clive Cussler. Instead, I'm just ... me.
I guess I learned a lot in college, although only some of that was in classes. I wonder what it would be like to go back to that 20-something person and reveal ten things that are impossible to know then? I'm not sure 20-something would not have understood, or listened.
Some of these are learned earlier than others, and some are probably more important than others. The order sort of reflects this.
College was a pretty big milestone, even if I didn't walk in the graduation ceremony (it costs HOW MUCH?). I think by now I was supposed to be a combination of Tom Selleck, Eric Clapton and Clive Cussler. Instead, I'm just ... me.
I guess I learned a lot in college, although only some of that was in classes. I wonder what it would be like to go back to that 20-something person and reveal ten things that are impossible to know then? I'm not sure 20-something would not have understood, or listened.
Some of these are learned earlier than others, and some are probably more important than others. The order sort of reflects this.
- Everyone is faking it. It was too easy to look around at other people that have the appearance of having it all together. The mid-90's were pretty chaotic, and it looked like many people a few years into "real life" had figured most of it out. I've seen life crumble around too many people and seen it come close in many other situations to know that nobody has it figured out and has it all together. Those that maintain that facade are just better at hiding it, better at temporary repairs to cracks in life's walls. There is a lot of messy plaster there.
- Temporary things might not be. Whether it is the winter coat bought just because something is needed quickly, the job that wasn't supposed to be permanent, or anything else tangible or intangible, I had no idea some of the things that still exist in life now would be here. I've seen friendships that I thought would be permanent disappear, and others that I thought would vaporize remain to this day. I still have the cheap, crappy coffee maker I bought in the early 1990's when I moved into my first apartment. The corollary to this is that permanent things might not be either - see #1.
- The lack of new "firsts" becomes painful. Early school, high school, college, post-college ... there is something new around every corner - it is mandatory without even trying. Even if those things are unpleasant, at least they are new. Something eventually happens though - new things become more and more rare. And when they do come, it is almost painful to realize that I'll never be able to do xx or go to yy for the first time again. Experiencing "firsts" only come with conscious effort; they have to be created in order to be experienced.
- Worry about money a little bit, but not too much. Yeah, put money away for retirement and don't spend more than you make, but aside form those two guiding principles, money is pretty boring stuff. With more stress and time in a job, more money will come. Study after study has shown that once the basic needs are met, more money doesn't really make individuals more happy (or at least the relationship is very non-linear). happiness (small h intended) is fleeting, Happiness (big H, aka contentment) doesn't really take a lot of money. See #5.
- Time is the most precious commodity. Ever! I'm not sure how long I'll live, but it is finite and fixed. This one is impossible to learn at 20-something. I'm not even sure I've really learned this yet. This is why vacation becomes so important. Time spent at work is pretty meaningless, and I feel sorry for people who's lives are their work. Those few weeks a year that are completely mine are unbelievably valuable. No, my work computer will not be going home with me on vacation.
- There are smart people who make me feel dumb. So it goes (thanks, Kurt Vonnegut). This is fine. Learn what you can from smart people. If they look down on others from their temporary position of superiority, remember #1. Keep those generous really smart people in life - they are probably really interesting too.
- There are dumb people - some of whom are (or appear to be) successful. Things usually have a way of catching up with people who lack common sense, who are mean, or don't know what they don't know. Get rid of these people. Life is quirky and some idiots will be successful; life is unfair that way. Don't dwell on it.
- Repetition will happen. Repetition will happen. I think part of the reason that I had that moment of terror at realizing 20 years had gone past since college, was the drive in to work felt exactly the same as countless other drives into work. Some days and weeks go by with unbelievable monotony. I guess if this didn't happen, I'd be in the rubber room by now.
- Be content. Excitement, elation, dizzying highs, crushing lows, the creamy middles - these things all risk coming with mandatory volatility. Contentment is a gift. Being satiated with the good is worth a lot. Too often I feel the urge to sell everything of value, burn everything else and start over. Media loves to celebrate the 2% of people who have discarded the mundane of daily life and traded it in to travel the world, finding wealth hidden in plain sight. Media isn't quite as quick to be as honest with the 98% of people who try this and end up destitute, regretting the decision to follow a crazy dream only to have the world come crashing down on the inevitable results.
- This list will change. If I had written this ten years ago, 10-years after college, it would have some of the same things, but it would have been vastly different. Thank goodness for that; if I still thought the same things now that I did a decade ago, it would demonstrate an absolute lack of growth. This list of ten things are strongly interrelated and is seen through the lens of 20-years working with one company after college. No doubt if a butterfly had flapped its wings in Sumatra and the resulting hurricane would have made things different, the view itself would be very different.
This entire exercise is actually quite dangerous. I can't go back and talk to that 20-something and really wouldn't want to (maybe I'd mention a few things). Perhaps that is where the uneasiness of the last 20 years is coming from - I have no idea where the next week, let alone the next 20 years is really headed.
Saturday, March 21, 2015
I published a book. No one is going to buy it, but I don't care.
One of the things on my ever-growing, ever-changing bucket list was to write a book.
Check!
Before you laugh, please read on.
First, a bit of background. I really wanted to go through the process of writing, self-editing, receiving copy and structural edits, and maybe publishing. But, I'm not a writer and don't pretend to be.
Then, a few years ago, my young nephew took one of his school assignments, expanded it and published as a book. It was simplistic, there were lots of errors, and the formatting was terrible. But, I was reasonably impressed that self-publishing coupled with print on demand seemed like a viable alternative to not doing it, especially since the cost was almost trivial. I'll never finish my bucket list, so this wouldn't have been terribly troubling.
After a few false starts on book ideas over the years, I had an idea around this time last year that came together in a much more real way. Thinking about this allowed me to mentally write large sections of the book, before actually starting on it.
Finally, I decided I would try to write one or two of the chapters that were best formed in my head and see if this gelled. This would be decided be rereading the chapters weeks later, after a vacation. Success would be determined on if I thought they were tolerable - a low standard to be sure. The idea of publishing was just that, an idea at that point; success was not going to be dependent on a book in actual physical form. On completion of the first two chapters, I continued writing - and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I chose to write it in Google Docs since this allowed me to write wherever I had a computer. Additionally, as long as I had my phone with me, I could check, reread, and/or edit sections no matter where I was (read: boring meetings at work where I really didn't need to be mentally present).
Near the end of 2014, I had finished most of the book and passed it on to my SO to read. She gave some corrections and I implemented them, before being willing to park the project in Google Docs in perpetuity. At this point, I had really decided against publishing, writing it was success enough.
Through some other twists of life events, I ended up passing the document on to a family member who happens to work in publishing as an editor. His field is not even close to the subject matter of my book, and he can't publish anything for family members without jumping through hoops, but his copy editing and feedback as well as the feedback of his wife made the book significantly better.
I decided to walk tentatively further down the path toward self publishing.
I chose to work with CreateSpace. This is a subsidiary of Amazon which I have some trust in (I buy a lot from them) and I'd seen enough final products from CreateSpace to suggest that their work looks quite good. Lulu also looked like a good choice, but CreateSpace seemed easier, would probably be cheaper; if I had my mind set on a hard cover, Lulu would have been the only choice; I actually prefer soft covers.
The previous editing of the book had brought it from Google Docs to Microsoft Word, and using the templates provided by CreateSpace made getting the book in the right format very easy.
CreateSpace has good documentation and easy to follow instructions to get things formatted correctly. Where I did have questions, a quick Google search that included the term "CreateSpace" made finding answers utterly trivial - usually the answers came from CreateSpace's online forum.
The change in formatting of the book, plus my first read through of a printed version (done on a normal printer using scrap paper) changed my perspective. The read through of a hard copy made the book feel more real, less like a homework assignment on a computer screen. The formatting in the CreateSpace format made it look like an actual book (if only on a screen at this point) and this bumped up the excitement factor.
I struggled with the cover quite a bit. I read much about the theory of book covers and looked through good examples and bad examples. I'll be honest that my first attempts would have recreated many of the things NOT to do. In the end, I created a simple cover that demonstrated the ethos of the book, without being overly busy or loud.
Around this time I also started to read quite a bit about the self-publishing industry and craze. The traditional publishers and their support look down on this phenomenon with disdain. I'm convinced they will be proven wrong. They are dinosaurs using typewriters with the first PCs and Macs already in use. Some authors already proven successful by the "big 6" traditional publishers also look down on the likes of self-publishers. I'm fine with that as I won't pretend to compete in the major leagues.
There are a lot of crap self-published books. This can't be ignored. There are also a lot of good ones. This has to be recognized.
A lot of the online help, blogs and articles have to do with writing as a way to get rich, or at least get a lot of money. I found this a little depressing. Is money really the only reason to do something ... anything?
My reason to go down this road is different. I did this for my own self. I'm quite aware my book, like most self-published books, won't sell. If I ever get a first payment from CreateSpace, I'll be surprised. I don't care if I sell a few copies to 1- and 2-star reviews. The point is, I did this. I'm happy with it. My life is more interesting having completed it.
If someone is tempted, as I was, to self-publish, I have three pieces of advice:
A few subsequent rounds of minuscule edits were needed which was both maddening and exhilarating. Maddening, since each edit, no matter how minor, needed a review by CreateSpace which can take up to 24 hours. Exhilarating since I knew that each correction was making the final product better.
In final form, there are still a few formatting things I wish I would have done differently, but I think that would be the case no matter how many times I edited and resubmitted; that is as much a personality flaw as anything else.
As I look back on the last year, where the ab initio for this started, I realize that despite big "accomplishments" at work and elsewhere, my simpleton self-published book is one of the things that brought me the most personal fulfillment. The money I earn in a few hours at work will dwarf what I will ever make from the book, despite spending untold, countless hours in it. But that is not the point and it never was. Does this mean I've missed my calling? Likely not. But I have no idea what my life's calling really was ... or is.
So go ahead and read my book or not. Give me a 1-Star review and flame the author for a linear narrative, simple writing and leaving some strings loose at the end of the book (this was done on purpose). I've learned more about myself through this excursion than I could have possibly imagined. That is the best kind of success that even a successfully rich author might hope for.
Check!
Before you laugh, please read on.
First, a bit of background. I really wanted to go through the process of writing, self-editing, receiving copy and structural edits, and maybe publishing. But, I'm not a writer and don't pretend to be.
Then, a few years ago, my young nephew took one of his school assignments, expanded it and published as a book. It was simplistic, there were lots of errors, and the formatting was terrible. But, I was reasonably impressed that self-publishing coupled with print on demand seemed like a viable alternative to not doing it, especially since the cost was almost trivial. I'll never finish my bucket list, so this wouldn't have been terribly troubling.
After a few false starts on book ideas over the years, I had an idea around this time last year that came together in a much more real way. Thinking about this allowed me to mentally write large sections of the book, before actually starting on it.
Finally, I decided I would try to write one or two of the chapters that were best formed in my head and see if this gelled. This would be decided be rereading the chapters weeks later, after a vacation. Success would be determined on if I thought they were tolerable - a low standard to be sure. The idea of publishing was just that, an idea at that point; success was not going to be dependent on a book in actual physical form. On completion of the first two chapters, I continued writing - and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I chose to write it in Google Docs since this allowed me to write wherever I had a computer. Additionally, as long as I had my phone with me, I could check, reread, and/or edit sections no matter where I was (read: boring meetings at work where I really didn't need to be mentally present).
Near the end of 2014, I had finished most of the book and passed it on to my SO to read. She gave some corrections and I implemented them, before being willing to park the project in Google Docs in perpetuity. At this point, I had really decided against publishing, writing it was success enough.
Through some other twists of life events, I ended up passing the document on to a family member who happens to work in publishing as an editor. His field is not even close to the subject matter of my book, and he can't publish anything for family members without jumping through hoops, but his copy editing and feedback as well as the feedback of his wife made the book significantly better.
I decided to walk tentatively further down the path toward self publishing.
I chose to work with CreateSpace. This is a subsidiary of Amazon which I have some trust in (I buy a lot from them) and I'd seen enough final products from CreateSpace to suggest that their work looks quite good. Lulu also looked like a good choice, but CreateSpace seemed easier, would probably be cheaper; if I had my mind set on a hard cover, Lulu would have been the only choice; I actually prefer soft covers.
The previous editing of the book had brought it from Google Docs to Microsoft Word, and using the templates provided by CreateSpace made getting the book in the right format very easy.
CreateSpace has good documentation and easy to follow instructions to get things formatted correctly. Where I did have questions, a quick Google search that included the term "CreateSpace" made finding answers utterly trivial - usually the answers came from CreateSpace's online forum.
The change in formatting of the book, plus my first read through of a printed version (done on a normal printer using scrap paper) changed my perspective. The read through of a hard copy made the book feel more real, less like a homework assignment on a computer screen. The formatting in the CreateSpace format made it look like an actual book (if only on a screen at this point) and this bumped up the excitement factor.
I struggled with the cover quite a bit. I read much about the theory of book covers and looked through good examples and bad examples. I'll be honest that my first attempts would have recreated many of the things NOT to do. In the end, I created a simple cover that demonstrated the ethos of the book, without being overly busy or loud.
Around this time I also started to read quite a bit about the self-publishing industry and craze. The traditional publishers and their support look down on this phenomenon with disdain. I'm convinced they will be proven wrong. They are dinosaurs using typewriters with the first PCs and Macs already in use. Some authors already proven successful by the "big 6" traditional publishers also look down on the likes of self-publishers. I'm fine with that as I won't pretend to compete in the major leagues.
There are a lot of crap self-published books. This can't be ignored. There are also a lot of good ones. This has to be recognized.
A lot of the online help, blogs and articles have to do with writing as a way to get rich, or at least get a lot of money. I found this a little depressing. Is money really the only reason to do something ... anything?
My reason to go down this road is different. I did this for my own self. I'm quite aware my book, like most self-published books, won't sell. If I ever get a first payment from CreateSpace, I'll be surprised. I don't care if I sell a few copies to 1- and 2-star reviews. The point is, I did this. I'm happy with it. My life is more interesting having completed it.
If someone is tempted, as I was, to self-publish, I have three pieces of advice:
- Have the work copy-edited by someone who really knows what they are doing, even if it isn't free. This can't be done by one's self and it can't be done by just anyone. The human brain is amazing in its ability to take a slightly scrambled sentence and reorganize it into a correct thought. Copy editing is a skill, in my case it was invaluable. Removing as many of those minor errors as possible makes a big difference in how a final document is received (but yes, Big-6 published books have errors as well).
- Read all the online chatter about how terrible the self-publishing industry is. Read how it devalues literature. Read how embarrassing it is. Read how people who self-publish shouldn't be called authors. The experts are always right. That is probably just what the few literate monks said when Gutenburg first used his printing press.
- Do it! Don't do it to get rich because you won't. Don't do it to get famous because you won't. But do it anyways. Do it because writing is immortal; writing and rewriting allows the self to think about things from a different perspective. Do it so you can reread it 10 years later and maybe even be a bit embarrassed - this only demonstrates growth. Do it to know that you have completed something, even if no one knows or cares, because the things that make life interesting are almost always the unknown.
A few subsequent rounds of minuscule edits were needed which was both maddening and exhilarating. Maddening, since each edit, no matter how minor, needed a review by CreateSpace which can take up to 24 hours. Exhilarating since I knew that each correction was making the final product better.
In final form, there are still a few formatting things I wish I would have done differently, but I think that would be the case no matter how many times I edited and resubmitted; that is as much a personality flaw as anything else.
As I look back on the last year, where the ab initio for this started, I realize that despite big "accomplishments" at work and elsewhere, my simpleton self-published book is one of the things that brought me the most personal fulfillment. The money I earn in a few hours at work will dwarf what I will ever make from the book, despite spending untold, countless hours in it. But that is not the point and it never was. Does this mean I've missed my calling? Likely not. But I have no idea what my life's calling really was ... or is.
So go ahead and read my book or not. Give me a 1-Star review and flame the author for a linear narrative, simple writing and leaving some strings loose at the end of the book (this was done on purpose). I've learned more about myself through this excursion than I could have possibly imagined. That is the best kind of success that even a successfully rich author might hope for.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)