New Year Journal

I'm starting out the new year with good intentions:
 1) to exercise,
 2) to eat healthier foods, and
 3) to be nicer to people who annoy me.


This year I am feeling more open to a new experiences. I signed-up for a Tai Chi class starting next week at the Council on Aging. I'm  hoping that the ancient exercises will promote flexibility in the muscles and increase my sense of  inner peace.

I sure hope this works-out better than the Yoga class I took last year.  It was billed as "Beginner Yoga for Seniors."   I was the only male in the class.  I think I was younger than most of the ladies, but you never know with women over 50.  None of us was "in shape."  Clearly, we had all signed up expecting some magic to turn us back into the sleek slender sturdiness of our youth.

My own goal in taking last year's Yoga class was to achieve enough flexibility to be able to get-in and -out of the kayak that I bought on Craig's List the previous summer.  To imagine the difficulty, sit on the floor and try to rise to your feet without using your hands.  It is hard to do on land and virtually impossible to do in the water, when you are 70 lbs overweight.  So I thought the Yoga would be a positive step towards stretching my stiffened joints and atrophied muscles back into some semblance of  what the French would call souplesse.    

After loyally attending 8 sessions, I concluded that Yoga isn't the right exercise for fat guys.
The exercises - even as modified for seniors - were more painful than invigorating.  My chronic tendinitis of the left wrist returned and barked with agony whenever I put weight on it.  Most of my joints just felt sore for several days after a session.  By the eight week, I felt no better than I did when I started, so I skipped the last 2 sessions, and instead went to the pub for a couple of relaxing frosty pints.  Looking back with honesty, I should admit that I never did the exercises between classes.  It always seemed like too much trouble to get down on the floor because getting back up was painful.  I am sure that daily practice would have been beneficial, and I have not discounted trying it again at some future time -- after I have lost 40 or 50 pounds.
(For the record I did get out in the kayak a few times this past summer. The outings were enjoyable, but I am still resolved to develop the ability to enter and exit the craft without getting drenched.)
  Despite the earnest hope for a magical transformation that will restore the vitality and strength of my youth, my practical expectations for the Tai Chi class are modest.

As for my resolution to eat healthier foods, I have already begun to cut back or eliminate certain unhelpful foods from my diet.  I have not eaten a french fry (or as the French would say pomme frite ) in three months. Bread, rice, pizza and pasta are rarely served at the evening meal.  We have eliminated nearly all packaged processed foods.  Portion sizes of meat have been halved, and servings of vegetables have been doubled.   This is about all I have to say about the diet right now; I generally find the dietary musings of fat people to be boring and frankly, annoying.  I'm sure you feel the same way.  (Perhaps the details of my diet will be more interesting after I have lost 50 pounds.)

The last of my resolutions is to be nicer to people who annoy me.  This will be a hard one to keep, since I find myself constantly annoyed by companies and organizations and the people who work for them.  I am annoyed at the newspaper delivery guy for multiple crimes: Being late, letting my paper get wet, delivering when I'm on vacation hold, etc.  The publishers of the Globe annoy me by printing on cheap curly paper, being unable to conceal a progressive bias, and constantly increasing the price of each edition, despite the lack of original news content.  Airlines, phone companies, theaters, restaurants, HMO's - you get the idea:  I find daily annoyances in my dealings with these institutions and the minions who face the public (ie, me).

Yet I have lately come to the realization that the annoyance is within me, and not in the intent of the annoying party.    I now see that is the unrealistic expectation of perfection that causes annoyance.  Annoying people are not trying to be annoying - they can't help it.  They toss their papers on your wet lawn, nobly  thinking, "I'm delivering the news."   Dog walkers didn't pick-up that poop because they didn't realize that stepping in dogshit bothered you. The girl behind the counter at Dunkin Donuts didn't overfill your cup intentionally, she just doesn't understand English, so the words "Not too full." sound like "Fill that sucker to the brim!"

This year, none of this stuff will bother me.  See, the inner peace thing is already working!

Ch-ch-changes

Although I generally think of myself as retired,  I have kept up an interest in keeping active and involved with the working world.   In early December I answered a job ad on Craigslist for a Shipper at a small local nonprofit publishing company.  The job description contained many of the elements that I want in a job:
      ·         local – this outfit was a 6 minute drive,
      ·          modest commitment of time -  two  mornings a week (8hrs max) ,
      ·         some physical activity – 70% of the job was not sitting in front of a computer,
      ·         A decent hourly rate – $15 which is a few bucks above the min. wage.

During the interview, I learned that the job involved entering transactions on the database the picking packing and shipping.  I have always been a fan of the fulfillment process.  At various times in my career I have worked at big companies, helping to design and implement optimal processes for order entry, through the distribution cycle to billing and receipt.  On my resume I used to claim to be an IT fulfillment expert.  

But those high flying glory days are long ago and far away.  These days I swing on low hanging branches.  This opportunity appeared  to  be an easy way to get a paid workout and lend some structure to my distinctly unstructured week.  The two women who interviewed me apparently saw that I was a trustworthy guy who would show up and get things done.  So I accepted the offer with a modicum of hope and enthusiasm.

However after two weeks of training it became clear that this was not turning out to be what I had expected.  It was a very small operation, with only 2 full timers and only one other part timer ( the Accountant).  The physical part of the job – schlepping boxes of books, packing and filling orders – was relatively easy to learn and well within my strength and endurance capabilities.  After several weeks I had established a fairly good routine for getting the shipping and stocking work done.

But the job also involved key-entry of order data into a MAC  Filemaker Pro database.  This was a customized system that was probably considered "state of the art" in 1991.  It was clunky, and I was slow.  The gal who I was reporting to was impatient with my tedious keyboarding skills and several times during the training, she would exasperatedly reach over and hit the key that I was searching for.   When I told her not to do that, she developed a scowl that became ever-present when she and I were in the same room.    

I have never been very good at labor intensive activities myself.   Perhaps this realization was the motivation  for the role that I enjoyed most in my professional life:  helping other people work more efficiently.

Since retiring and entering the world of part-time work, I have had to come to terms with the realization that employers were not looking for their part-timers to be problem solvers or major contributors; they just wanted an efficient, interchangeable part - An easily replaceable working unit who does not ask questions or offer suggestions for improvement.  Ideally, they’d prefer a robot.  

I admit that I am not always patient or compliant.  Like most adults, I dislike supervision.  I can be stubborn – a tendency which I blame on my Irish and Dutch genes.  There was a lot of supervision and not much congeniality.  I expected a laid-back atmosphere, but was disappointed to find the chill of no-nonsense efficiency to be the prevailing wind.

This may sound like a self-serving rationalization for my decision to quit the job, but after a few weeks, I just did not see things getting better.   One of the chief reasons I quit my last job (at AAA), was because  they would not even discuss the possibility of improving the process (too costly), and yet they blamed the hapless counter people for making errors on a system that was neither logical or intuitive.  This was pretty much the same situation. 

At my age, I feel that I should not endure anything that I dislike if I can help it.  So, it is with little regret that I say sayonara and good luck.  Every experience is an education; even if it is not always fun.

Have I given-up on my quest to become usefully employed?  No.   My daughter has encouraged me to follow her interests in mediation training.  She seems to think that I would enjoy helping people find solutions to conflicts.  I am giving it serious consideration.   I demur, because the cynical part of my ego suspects that it is too late -- that I have become a hopelessly grumpy old fart who will never be satisfied with any job.

Hope still lives – I am starting Yoga lessons next week.  Flexibility and inner peace, here I come!