The Big Head Problem

You probably don't have a big head. This is not to suggest that you aren't full of yourself to an unwarranted degree (because you probably are).


I mean big head in the physical size sense. You know: girth. Circumference.  Hat size.


I just mention it because it seems that most people have diminutive heads that actually do fit into the "One Size Fits All" hats. Clearly these caps are designed by and tested on tiny-headed workers.  My theory is that these are the same people who design commercial jet plane and stadium seats. 

People with big heads look goofy wearing an ordinary baseball cap. They are not designed to fit comfortably on Mensa-sized skulls like mine. So, I have to buy my size 7 3/4 hats at an online site called Big Head Hats. They cater to the "cranially endowed" market. The hats and caps are made in China and tested on offensive Football linemen. Then, shipped from Tennessee, USA.


I read somewhere that there is a correlation between head size and brain size - ergo higher intelligence. I personally do not claim this intellectual power, because I cannot understand why a fat guy with a small head can easily buy a 4X size Hawaiian shirt, but I with my big face, cannot find a pair of sunglasses that won’t slide off my nose into my chili.


Everything seems to be designed for you - the average sized humanoid. I can assume that you are average because – according to statistics - it is most likely that you are ensconced in the bulge of your cohort’s bell curve. Oh, you probably want to be a nonconformist (just like everyone else), but chances are, you are one of the one-size-fits-all masses.


At least that seems to be what the political machinery of this country thinks. That is why the major political parties do not even pretend to nominate the best and/or the brightest. They identify the characteristics and values that they think will appeal to the most voters and then shape their candidates to fit that profile. I think that if you check the hat size of most ideologues you will find that they are on the low end of average cranial girth.

You might get a chuckle out of the label's Washing Instructions: "Buy another Hat." 

Thanksgiving thoughts

Hope no one minds if I reprise one of my favorite works of holiday-themed flash fiction from a few years ago.

I suppose I need to repeat that it is a work of fiction. 

Over The River & Across the Tracks



It was chilly outside as we headed to Granny Gert's house for the annual Thanksgiving Feast. Uncle Gelbert was driving the old pink and white Nash Rambler wagon. Pap sat in the shotgun seat with the window open. Pap was pretty hung-over and every few miles he would yell for Gelbert to pull over so he could puke out the window. We - Maw, Throckmorton, and me sat in back, bundled-up. We were used to Pap's hangovers, and the lingering smell of his vomit on everything.

We were, of course, late. We were late for everything, except the time back in Montana when me and Throck were born. That was the one time we were early for anything. Still, Ma always said that we could've made it to the hospital except Pap was at the roadhouse when the first contractions came and she had to wait two hours for him to come home to take her to the docs.

When we arrived at Granny Gert's trailer, we piled-out of the car. Granny's dogs greeted us in the usual fashion - barking raucously, jumping on us, glad to have visitors.
"Git back you lot!" Granny shouted coming down the steps waving a cattle prod.
Me and Throck looked at each other wondering if she meant us or the dogs. The dogs thought it was them and they instantly fell into a heap near the trailer steps. Then she went over to where Pap and uncle Gelbert were standing.
"Georgie! Gelbert! You two boys!" They eyed her suspiciously.
"Give us a hug." She bellowed. They complied meekly.
"I see you haven't changed your naughty ways, Georgie." she said to Pap, nodding to the flecks of puke dripping from the side and rear panel of the Rambler. He shrugged.


We all went inside to warm-up.
Ma had brought a package of frozen peas and another of frozen squash. Pap produced a 5th of Gallo Creme Sherry from a brown bag and waved it over his head like it was the US open winners trophy. We all applauded approvingly, except Gramps who hadn't even noticed us arrive. He sat in a ratty old chair facing the small black and white TV screen watching a football game.

Granny, who was returning from the cupboard with a tray of half-filled jelly glasses, nodded towards Gramps with her head, "Somebody go and shake him. His hearing aid batteries went dead last month and he hasn't been much for conversation."
Pap went over and stood in front of the TV, blocking the view.
"Hi dad," he grinned toothlessly.
The old man looked at him, not recognizing him for a moment. Then a big smile. "Georgie, hey, sit down. Watch the game. Did you bring anything to drink?"

Dinner was predictable. Granny heated the turkey loaf in the microwave and poured a can of beef gravy over it. She had mixed up a batch of instant whipped potatoes, and had fried the green peas in a pan. Each little pea had a burn mark, which she instantly renamed 'black-eyed green peas". She proudly announced that she had bought new plastic utensils for the occasion and Chinette plates and cups.

Even though we were 20 years old, me and Throckmorton had to take our plates to a card
table in the living room while "the adults" - Granny, Gramps, Gelbert, Pap and Maw crowded around the breakfast nook. There was a hair in my gravy. But I wasn't hungry anyway.


Halfway through the meal Granny remembered the Squash, which was still thawing on the counter.
"Save your plates everybody, we can have this for desert. And don't nobody throw away them new plastic cutlery!"
After all the remnants of the meal had been cleared and piled in the sink, we sat watching the end of the football game, cleaning our teeth with individually wrapped mint-flavored toothpicks, like the ones you get at the Chinese restaurant. It had gotten dark, so Granny turned on a few more lamps.

We heard a truck pull up outside. Young Billy came through the door, red-faced from the cold, but beaming.
"Hi everybody, sorry I'm late. There was a wreck on the highway. Look what I got!"
He held up a bloody wallet that looked thick with a wad of bills, and a severed finger with a large diamond ring still on it.

Gramps stared at the swag and then asked hopefully, "Didn't you bring anything to drink?"
####

I lost my Glasses

Hmmn, I've looked everywhere but they're gone.  Not on the car, not in the closet, not in the pockets of my coat, not hidden under the jumble of newspaper.  Gone.

I know what you are thinking:  All old people "lose" their reading glasses at least once a day.
You think I have just misplaced them, and that they will turn up shortly, when I remember where I left them. 
But no, this time they are really lost. 

I had them yesterday morning when I went out.  I discovered them missing at Home Depot whern I was trying to read the small print on the package I was looking at.  I checked every pocket.  Gone.

The worst thing about it, they were the expensive bifocals that I never take with me if I leave the house.
 The only reason I took them with me is I have lost all of my traveling glasses too.
Where do they end-up, all those glasses??

Last Chance

Lets all go over to Newton and park tonight! Last chance!

Selections from The E-Mailbag

Dear Former Co-worker,

I just received your email, asking if I knew anyone who could help you in your annual (or is it semi-annual) job search.  How nice of you to think of me, even if I am just one of dozens of addresses on your email blast, I realize that personal notes are just too time-consuming for the anticipated payback.  Woefully inefficiant. 

If I was working myself, I might have contacts, but alas I too am unemployed.  I guess the big difference is that I chose to be unemployed, whereas you became unemployed because of someone else's choice.

Hard to figure why any organization would let you get way,  given the invaluable qualities that you demonstrate - that highly-developed sense of entitlement, relentess assertiveness, and that mono-maniacal energy that narcissists possess to accomplish their self-promoting goals.   These characteristics should be much valued by the hamster-brained sociopaths that populate the management ranks at most companies.

Well, it was great to hear from you again.  You can be sure that I will be spending literally minutes thinking of ways to help you, so you needn't follow-up with calls or more mass e-mails. I have always felt honored to be among the first hundred or so people that you contact each time you are looking for a new job. 

I do have a tip.  I just heard the UPS needs more package handlers at holiday time and they are staffing up to beat the band. I think you could do well there.  Don't bother to thank me.  Best of luck in your new job... and Happy Holidays.

Your Networking Contact

Robocalls

I really hate it when some computer calls me with a recorded message telling me to vote for someone.

Really, does anyone really think that a dumb-ass recorded message is going to change my mind in favor of the candidate?  This seems to be one of the expensive delusions that candidates and campaign managers agree on.  They all do it.   It should be banned. 

I think that robocalling must be one of the biggest methods to waste campaign dollars, annoy potential voters and put more bling and jingle into the pockets of  technophile marketing consultants and script writers. 

The recipient of a robocall might well end-up wanting to cast a vote against the caller. If he could talk to the automated message he might say something like, "Gee thanks for calling during dinner. My porridge was probably too hot to eat anyway.  I know you are too busy to personally call me and ask me what my interests are so you just target your message to an age or economic demographic and read the platitudes that some script writer has made thousands of dollars composing. ...  Well why don't you go get a zucchini and[expletive deleted] yourself!"


Peter Drucker said that the most useless thing in business is doing efficiently that which should not be done at all.  I think this applies to automating the process of inadvertently alienating voters.

Halloween Greetings



Trick-or-treat THIS!

 This is how I feel about Halloween.                             ======>



I just heard on the radio that there has never been a documented  case in the USA of anyone poisoning candy or putting sharp objects in apples at Halloween.   The chief hazard to children on Halloween is getting run over by a car as they dart across streets in frenzied search of stale candy.

Yet these urban myths about dangerous dispensers of tainted treats remain lodged in our memories causing parents to spread fear and distrust to yet another generation of whiny, weenie kids.

Maybe every costume should come with a helmet, just to be safe. 

On Halloween, we don't give out stale candy anymore. We shut off the outside lights and go to a nice restaurant.  It is the one night of the year when you can dine in peace without some kid at the next table banging his spoon on his plate (usually while the seemingly deaf parents separately check their individual IPhone or blackberry hoping for some interesting message that might save them from the tedium of polite conversation.)

This year the best venue will be the local sports bar, where we can watch the Patriots massacre the Vikings.
==================
Update on Oct 28th.  In WSJ today, an article by Lenore Skenazy titled "Stranger Danger and the decline of Halloween" discusses the topic of parental over caution.  I think Ms Skenarzy was the person being interviewed on NPR.  She has wtitten a book called "Free Range Kids."  (I guess her point is that they taste better than the children who are kept in confined pens and fed growth hormones and kibble :-)

Holy Crap

Talk about your Holy Crap! moments.  Last week, we learned that while President Bill Clinton was very attuned planning his Lewinsky moments in the Oval Office  he effing lost the effing nuclear codes needed to launch a response to an enemy's attack on the US.     Holy crap! 

More Notes From the Lagging Edge

Notes from the lagging edge -2


I'm not a Luddite. In fact, am a fan of the practical application of technology (e.g., Bar coding, Fast Lane/EZPass transponder, ID chips for pets), but I do not get the love affair that so many of you have with your iPhone, blackberry and other expensive, battery-powered gizmos.

If you ask me, the miniaturization concept has gone way past reasonable.  These little "keypads" are too tiny to operate  for anyone who is over age 30.  And the screens are just a blur without reading glasses.

Moreover, the sound quality on mobile devices is pathetic.  Ringtones are annoyingly tinny and distorted.  Voice quality is choppy and uneven.

Next time you go to the mall or a restaurant look around and watch people and their gadgets.  If two people are dining one or both of them will have a mobile device on the table between them -  a subtle but strong signal to the other of his priorities.

If the person is alone, they try to appear busy by constantly checking their mobile device.  I don't know why other people feel awkward when they are alone;  I don't feel that way at all.  I usually pull out my notebook and scribble some nonsense to make anyone watching me think I am writing something important.

Sent From My Dingleberry

Odds and Ends

Equal Access
A Pittsfield, MA woman is trying to get an initiative on the ballot to allow "equal access to sunshine."  She is collecting signatures from supporters to rewrite the legal definition of nudity.  She doesn't like the term "topless" because it apparently conjures up images of more prurient nipple exposers.  She just wants the right to swim and sunbathe without a shirt, to feel the warmth of the sun on her chest. If I was Joe Biden, I might respond,  "I have just three words for you, young lady: where do I sign?"


Tea Party Madness
You must admit, American politics is a lot more interesting with a third party shaking things up for both Dems and Repubs with their NO taxes! NO big government! mottoes.
I was amused to read a letter in the Globe today, where the writer suggests that the historical origin of the Tea Party as a symbolic reference is more apt if you consider the Lewis Carroll vision.  Some purists object to the hijacking of the patriotic event known as the Boston Tea Party.  If you do not agree that the inspiration of the current Tea Party is rooted in the noble acts of disobedience of the original no-taxation-without-representation crowd, you might reframe the allusion.  Remember Alice in Wonderland? The writer suggest that the current tea party participants evoke similarities to characters in Alice's world - jabberwocky, mad hatters, crazed queens and such. 

Everyone Needs a Little Inspiration Now and Then

I recommend the article "Slumping at Work? What would Jack Do"  by Sue Shellenbarger  in WSJ Personal Journal section today.  It's about working executives who overcame personal performance shortcomings at their workplace by using the experiences of professional sports figures as guides to break out of their perceived "slump."

Jack of course refers to golfer Jack Nicklaus who visualizes himself making great shots as a tactic to overcome slump inducing anxiety.

Slumps are mainly caused by fear.  Fear can often be a mighty motivator but also can be a powerful paralyzer.  Fear of repeating mistakes can lead to a loss of confidence which leads to over thinking the next move which, well, just keeps building on doubt and fear,  leading your performance down a rat hole.

Good news: the execs in this article used sports legends and their techniques for breaking-out of acknowledged slumps as their inspiration.  These techniques also work for bloggers and other writers/artists who may be experiencing a creative block.

The most powerful techniques for overcoming self doubt are actually quite simple: Remind yourself of past successes, engage in positive self-talk, visualize your success, keep the company of encouraging people, focus on your original purpose and your key personal strengths.

========================

I suspect there may also be a wider general application of these techniques to inspire greatness from those of us who are unwittingly forced by lethargy and gluttony to attain a state of  XXL obesity. Some experimentation would seem to be in order. 

1. Visualize your Success.  I decided to visualize myself as a thin person. I looked in the imaginary mirror and saw an L, with sagging neck skin and deep wrinkles, sad eyes and the haunted look of starvation.  I flicked imaginary flies from my drawn lips.   Ok....That didn't quite work....I decided to try something else.

2.  Surround yourself with encouraging people.  I went to the local pub where everyone knows my name.  They seemed glad to see me.  I declined the proffered dish of popcorn.  "No thanks, I'm cutting back on between meal snacks,"  I declared.  "Good for you, " the barmaid murmured with her Irishly ironic lilt.  Was she rolling her eyes as she poured my IPA?  No! banish that thought of self doubt!   As I sipped my pint, my gaze fell upon the mirror behind the bar.  Peering back was an aging XXL pink faced white haired guy.  That guy needs to work-out more, I thought.

3. Positive Self Talk.  After a few pints, I paid the tab, waved goodbye to my fans, lurched off the bar stool. On the way out, I ducked into the Gents for a quick pre-traffic whiz.  After washing my hands, I stood in front of the mirror, smoothed my hair and smiled warmly.  "You look fabulous." I said loudly pointing to the mirror.  Someone in one of the stalls called back "Thanks Mate, doing me best." I beat it out of there before someone recognized me.

On the way home, I tried to remember what my original purpose was and whether I could focus on my  personal strengths.  The thinking made me hungry, so I stopped at Mickee Dee's for a quick double cheeseburger and fries.  "You want large or small fries?" said the muffled voice in the drive-thru
speaker.  "Make it small," I replied, "I'm cutting back on..um..calories." 

Technical Advice From the Valley of the Technically Challenged

I spent at least six hours trying to get my new all-in-one printer  to recognize the FIOS wireless router.

My New All-in-one-Device

If you have this problem I can save you 5 and one half hours:  Reset your Router which will disable mac (Media Access Control) filtering. 

I bought the printer on a whim when I saw an on-line ad from Staples.  I bought it because my wife complained that our old deskjet printer took too long and besides she needed to fax stuff. 
She uses a laptop which connects to the wireless router which comes with FIOS.  But, when she wanted to print something, she was always kicking me off MY desktop PC which was connected to the old 640C printer.
It cost about $275 including free shipping.  "All-in-one" seems a bit of a misnomer.  It does not have a coffee maker or popcorn popper.  It says it will scan, copy, fax, and oh yeah, print.
As soon as I got the new printer working, my wife said,"Good.  Now put it in the basement.  It's too big to have up here." 

If this was Facebook or Twitter I might post: Holy Crap I have a scanner!

Anyway,  I thought I would test the scanning feature of the new printer:  
 I found this photo taken "a few" years ago, back in the pre-digital world of 35mm.  This is my favorite original oil painting, done by my formerly bohemian artist sister, Chris (which she asked me to destroy after she found Jesus.  The devil in me could not comply. So I keep it hidden in my basement "office.")

Blogger Poses With  Muse.

Pretty cool! Eh?

Soft Landings

In today's Boston Globe there was a nicely done essay by Susan Trausch.  You can read it if you click here.  She took a buyout from the Globe five years ago at age 59.  After 32 years at the same company, her transition from work to retirement was "complicated."    She has written a book* about her personal period of adjustment, (which I plan to read if I ever have any free time.)

The op-ed piece titled "Retirement's Soft Landings" offers a bit of tongue-in-cheek advice to celebrities who have publicly announced their imminent retirement (Oprah, Joe Torre, Richard Daly).

Trausch nails it when she talks about the  bitter-sweet transition after waving goodbye to your career and workmates,

" Oh the tyranny of time managed poorly. The tyranny of time at work was so different, mainly because time was in charge and knew what it was doing. There were bosses, assignments, schedules, deadlines, and a gross domestic product to consider. At home there is complete freedom and an easily distracted human being can spend days drifting from leaky garden hose to unread New Yorkers to hunting for the grocery list that must have blown off the counter to e-mail to the daily crossword puzzle that is supposed to keep the mind focused"

As faithful readers of this blog well know, your humble scribe has been wrestling with retirement issues since he escaped from the hellhole several years ago.  As one who has never been bored, I found retirement to be exceedingly liberating.  Suddenly, no one is telling you what to do, where to be, what time to show-up, and how to get there.  You think: This is how life should be!  

I changed the name of the blog from "Hellhole Update" to "Escape from the Hellhole" to celebrate the new found feeling of having emerged from a cage.  I was happy, delighted and at peace.  Now I was free to do anything I wanted to do.  Fishing, traveling, reading, meeting friends for lunch, catching up on the lengthy to-do list... And I did enjoy doing those things.

But having all that freedom is not without it's drawbacks.  When people ask me, "How do you like retirement?" my answer is: "Overall I am delighted to be at leisure.  However, every few months, I get this vague feeling that I am missing something, that I am not doing anything important.  I start to worry (again) that the missus and me will outlive our nest egg." 
I have probably bored my loyal readers with the recurrent observation that most normal adults  do not experience unqualified happiness for very long (and this is well explained by Maslow's theory, The Hierarchy of Needs).     Our brains are creative goal-seeking mechanisms, so we cannot be satisfied with the status quo, because new goals keep forming as long as the brain is functioning.  (Hmmn, maybe this last condition explains why some people are deliriously happy in retirement. )

Fortunately, this "uncertain phase" does not last for very long**.  I usually respond to the vague noodgy feelings of insignificance by looking at part time job ads for high paying opportunities within walking distance of home.  There are virtually no part time jobs, unless you want to become a replaceable part, working for an indecent hourly wage, on the worst shift.  So, I usually get over this phase pretty quickly.  Then, I make some lunch plans or go fishing. 
And, for a time,  all is right with the world.

---------------------------------------------

*Trausch's newly published book: "Groping Toward Whatever Or How I Learned To Retire, Sort Of.’’

** My wife attributes this "uncertainty" to mild seasonal depression. She was an English major in college but feels that she is  fully qualified to diagnose my mental state.

I Deactivated my Facebook Account

Dear Loyal Facebook "Friend,"

No, I did not de-friend you.  I de-activated my account. 
I did not single you out to punish you because you cluttered up my home page with your endless "likes" and links to your favorite cause, or your bored twittering mindfarts, or the barrage of  pictures of your cute kids, or your tedious political views. 

Admittedly, some of these annoyances did play a part in my decision to deactivate my FB account, but the principal reason for my departure is that I am not female.  FB is clearly a medium for chicks and mindless chick-chat.

I am starting a new social networking site for men called "Guybook."
You can't just sign up for it, you have to apply and then be selected by the elite group of alpha guys.
If you survive the rigorous hazing ritual, you get to post your thoughts on Guybook.
Actually, "thoughts" is a fancy way of saying "dirty jokes and pictures of naked girls."

On Guybook you don't have friends.  Everyone is in competition.  You get into fights by launching insults at other members. Cartoon avatars duke-it-out in simulated matches so you don't get hurt.   We post football, golf, bowling scores, reviews of guy films, and competitive beer keg prices in your area.  We talk about cars, boats and gadgets and guns.  We like to shoot things - especially things that explode - like empty beer bottles. 

We post favorite video clips from 3 Stooges movies, and you can download ringtones that sound like a fart.
We almost pee our pants laughing when someone says the word "boobs," "wiener" or "sphincter."

Guybook. It will be aimed at males with an emotional maturity age of about 8 or 9 - which covers pretty much most of the American male population who are not on Facebook.

Guybook.   It's the next big thing.

I read the news today oh boy

Breaking news! La recession est mort.  RIP

It must be true; it was reported yesterday in both  the Boston Globe and the WSJ. 
Not surprisingly, the subheading of most fin-du-recession articles is something like "How come we aren't celebrating yet?" 
Perhaps the public excitement about the announcement is tempered by the huge numbers of people still looking for work and the dismal outlook that predicts sluggish economic growth. Looming deficits, and lackluster housing demand.  War. Supergerms. Fear of Bedbugs. 

Does anyone else think it is odd that the group that tracks recessions took 14 months to figure out that the 18month  recession technically began in December 2007 ended June of 2009 - last year! 
In any line of work other than Economics,  people would fire at you if you handed in your weekly status report fourteen months late.  

The procrastinating Economic researchers defend the lag time by pointing out that it takes a lot of time and data to compile the report. 
I would respond by saying, "You're fired!"
The report is obviously meaningless, useless and irrelevent. ( Just like the financial reports you get in the mail from your IRA mutual funds.  In April you get a report on the period ended in January.  How is that useful?)

"News" is supposed to be timely.  Technical pronouncements about the state of the economy are not worthy of headlines, but may be of interest to those who enjoy semantic squabbles.

This set of definitions works for me:
Recession: when your neighbor is out of work
Depression: When you are out of work.

=============
More useful news:

Texting while driving is illegal in Massachusetts starting next month.  Everyone should get busy texting and driving before it becomes a crime.  I am updating this blog from my Blackberry driving 75 miles an hours,
eating a hot dog and not wearing my seatbelt.   I don't see what the big pro__________________
{signal interrupted}

The Multitasking Myth

We hear it all the time. People on their Iphones apologizing for this or that thing they overlooked or forgot to do.  They excuse the lapse, blaming their "crazy-busy"  life styles as though the hectic craziness was inflicted on them, instead of a choice they have made voluntarily.

These same people frequently talk about how good they are at multitasking.  But, if they could get out of their muddled heads for just a few minutes, they might realize that, in fact, they are not so good at multitasking. In reality, they just do a lot of things marginally well. 

Granted, most of my own research on human behavior is done waiting in line at Starbucks, but some people who actually get paid to study human behavior, have concluded that so-called multi-taskers are not as efficient as they think they are.   Chances are you are just skimming at this very moment, but if you are interested enough you might check-out what real journalists and researchers are saying.

Dr. Edward Hallowell, a Massachusetts-based psychiatrist who specializes in the treatment of attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder and has written a book with the self-explanatory title CrazyBusy, has been offering therapies to combat extreme multitasking for years; in his book he calls multitasking a “mythical activity in which people believe they can perform two or more tasks simultaneously.” In a 2005 article, he described a new condition, “Attention Deficit Trait,” which he claims is rampant in the business world.

What we call “multitasking” is really the ability to switch between a number of tasks quickly. The term was first applied to computer processors, which operate sequentially at such a high speed that designers invented a method of switching tasks (they called it multiplexing in the early days) to give the impression of multiple simultaneous actions.

If you understand bandwidth then you can easily see how the concept works. Your cable or FIOS router manages all the signals that are traveling down the same wire and converts them into video pixels, sound and text. Bandwidth is really a function of speed. In the old days, modems could only handle slow speeds. Nowadays they are touting 4G networks, meaning that more crap gets rammed through the same wire only incredibly faster.

Most of us are born with only one processor. In some of us, that processor is capable of faster speeds. This explains Mensa types. They are great at chess and crossword puzzles , but maybe not so good at doing a job that requires sociability, contextual cognition or persuasive skills. IQ is really a measure of how fast the processor is, not how much fun it is to be around.

So, multitasking is really the ability to switch focus from one thing to another very quickly. The problem is that - unlike the digital computer - the human brain needs time to refocus at the same level it was concentrating before the interruption.

You see examples of this all the time when you are in a conversation with someone.  Let’s say you on a phone conversation discussing a book. The other person says:

“John Irving is a fine writer, but he is so manipulative.
“What do you mean?
“Well he gets you to fall in love with his characters and then… oops wait a sec I need to take this call…
While waiting you absently go through your e-mail and see that you have a new message, so you click on it..
“Sorry about that. Where was I?”

“Ah, Let’s see, we were talking about books I think..”
“Yes... books.  Who has time for books anymore?  I am swamped here so I need to get back to work. it’s been fun talking with you.”
“Ok, so long”

Because of the interruptions, you did not find out what the other person was going to say about John Irving’s penchant for murdering or maiming his best characters.  Then, you got distracted by your own incoming e-mail.  Because the human brain is slow to re-focus on the book topic,  the conversation ended before the information was communicated.


Studies have shown something we intuitively know: as we age, the recovery time to re-focus is even longer, especially in males. 

Ah, the football game has started, time for me to interrupt myself and do some experimental multi-tasking.  By which I mean watching the Game while simultaneously sipping a frosty Sierra Nevada.

The Case for Procrastination

For several years now, I have been working on an essay titled “The Case for Procrastination.” It takes issue with our over planned and goal oriented society. It examines the deleterious effects of the crazy-busy lives of people – especially those who are working at a career and raising families – who never have time to “Stop and smell the roses”.

I have a few paragraphs completed, but I doubt that I’ll get to it in the foreseeable future. Lots of other stuff to do that seems more interesting right now.

The unfinished essay examines procrastination as a personal style rather than a chronic illness that some people seem to inherit.  (I have no scientific evidence that procrastination is inherited. I just believe it to be so after years of observing my siblings and myself. We are inveterate and practiced procrastinators.)

Successful procrastinators tend to work exceedingly well under the pressure of an imminent deadline.
They may put things off until the last minute but they tend to work quite efficiently during that last minute.  This is why I can start working on my tax returns on April 14 and finish under the deadline.  I'm sure there are other positive things to say about procrastinators, and when I think of them I will finish the essay, I promise....

There are certain luxuries appertaining to being a retired, life-long procrastinator. One can choose to adopt an un-hurried approach to goals. (Some people who know me may be saying to themselves Hey Mr. No-sense-of-urgency, what’s new?   What’s new is that now I don’t hurry on my own time. I don’t feel the same pressure as I would if I had to report my activities to a boss. )
 
I believe that the ability to remain calm in the face of zipping time is actually a sign of wisdom. Who needs to rush around getting-things-done when there will always be more things to be done? Young people do not have the acquired wisdom to recognize this fact of life. They imagine that if they rush and get stuff done, they will have earned the chill-time to take an afternoon off to play golf or sit on the deck with a trashy novel.

But seldom do working people actually realize those imagined rewards because work will not let up on you. Getting things done begets more things, The boss – seeing that you have a capacity for getting lots of things done, sends more things to your inbox. In a business there is no respite. Sure there are rewards. You get more pay, and you inevitably get promoted to a position of increased responsibility – which results in even more demands on your available time.  If you do get to the golf course or weekend getaway, you must be Blackberried-up and always "on-call."

There is always a price tag on anything you get in an organization: usually, the price of perks and rewards is the increasing trade-off of your personal time. Successful people recognize this trade-off as a Faustian deal with the devil, and they assure themselves that they will repair the damaged relationships and health if they can survive long enough to get that well-earned retirement. Sadly for them, this strategy does not work. The halls of retirement are filled with once successful executives who are perplexed to find themselves estranged from the home and family they always believed they were working to support.

Looking back, I am not sorry that I took the less stressful road - not that I had a choice, mind you.  When I was born, three weeks past the forecasted due date, weighing-in at nearly 11 pounds, the doctor gravely pointed-out to my mother,  "He was born without a sense of urgency."

Naming Names: My NO VOTE List

Why is it against the law to stalk an attractive woman, make unwanted phone calls and send unwanted pictures of yourself to her in the mail, but it is OK for political candidates to invade your privacy, phone and mailbox?  I've decided not to vote for the following candidates on the grounds of harassment.

Mike Lake - today I got a robocall from his MOTHER! Jesus H Christ! If I had a taser I'd have given her 20,000 volts, I  swear.

Charles Rudnick - I have received between a dozen and twenty pieces in the mail (all of which went IMMEDIATELY into the recycle pile); also his campaign has called the house between 5 and 7 times.  At first I was polite, then I demanded to be removed from the call list.  If he is wasting all this money in an inefficient attempt to get elected, how can he be trusted when he's spending my money?
  If I hear one more word from him, I will get a lawn sign supporting Cynthia Creem, the incumbent.  

We need to discourage this annoying and intrusive campaigning.  Anyone else who robocalls me between now and election day gets added to the NO VOTE list.  Join me in throwing the rascals out of...our voicemail boxes.

Misunderstandings

The other day there was a small blurb in the newspaper, and virtually no mention on the evening news: Castro: Cuba's communism 'doesn't even work for us anymore'
I thought to myself: That's something you don't read everyday.

After 50 years since the revolution in Cuba, Fidel Castro seemed to concede that totalitarianism is a failure.   He calls it the "Cuban model," referring to the government controlling every aspect of the economic system.   Hey Fidel, I thought, welcome to reality; most of the world economies have known all along that Communism doesn't work.   And what is this "anymore" crap.  It never did work for Cuba.  They always depended on economic aid from other totalitarian regimes. 

 But not so fast Mr Blog Guy, reality, it seems is in the mind of the beholder.

Yesterday, Castro, 84 years old (and, apparently, back on his meds) stated that his words had been misunderstood.
Castro claims that his recent comment that Cuba’s economic model did not work was badly understood and that what he really meant was that "capitalism did not work."

Aha!

The lesson here is that an Ideologue cannot be trusted to see the truth, because they will disregard facts that do not support their belief.  I think it is called "cognitive dissonance."
The lyrics of the song say "Don't fall in love with a dreamer..." Perhaps it would have been better said to advise, "Don't fall in love with your dream. Period".

The General is Shooting Blanks

When I first heard that some redneck preacher in Florida has announced his plan to burn a copy of the Quran on 9-11  as a protest against Islamic fundamentalists attack in 2001 against the World Trade Center Towers and the Pentagon, I thought, "What a douche-bag!"

I didn't think much of it, since we have a tradition of free speech in this country.  Everyone is permitted to make a perfect asshole out of himself.   They can ignite books, pictures, flags whatever to make a point.  Even if it pisses-off someone else. 

I do not approve of burning books and that includes religious books.  It would arouse less of an outcry from fellow citizens (and make more sense to me) if he could capture a terrorist commiting an act of terror and burn him instead of a book.

But the book is a symbol, and predictably, the reaction from Muslims in Kabul is "Death To America."
Now we even have General Petraeus calling for a cancellation of the book burning saying that it puts American military at risk.  (Like, what? they are not at risk 24X7 ?)

"I am very concerned by the potential repercussions of the possible (Quran) burning. Even the rumor that it might take place has sparked demonstrations such as the one that took place in Kabul yesterday," Petraeus said in his message. "Were the actual burning to take place, the safety of our soldiers and civilians would be put in jeopardy and accomplishment of the mission would be made more difficult

I think we should consider what is wrong with a religion when just the expectation of a dumbass act of one individual causes thousands to riot and rampage.  Islamists blow stuff up all the time, including religious symbols that they find displeasing. How is that fair or just?

We cannot stifle the right of that dumbass to engage in lawful symbolic protest.  The rights of free speech were paid for by the blood of patriots.  We cannot allow ourselves to be extorted or blackmailed because of the fear of reaction from an ignorant mob.  In fact, such reaction actually supports the contentions of those who would paint all Muslims with a single brush.

To retreat from our tradition of free speech because we fear the consequences of ignorance is to toss our traditions into the dustbin of history.  And,  we will discover the steep slope to subjugation by the ministers of fear, well-lubricated.