Friday, August 31, 2007
On the Road
We're on the road. Left yesterday afternoon and got as far as Texarkana. Today, we got to Little Rock for a tour of the Clinton Presidential Library. Afterword, we drifted east...ended up in Memphis, where we are staying the night. I'll provide food trip details later. Who knows where we'll go tomorrow? My wife is talking about wandering along various "trails" along the Mississippi. We could head toward Mississippi, wander north to St. Louis, or drift northwest or southwest or...we'll just have to wait to see. As usual, my photos are not very good and I'm not ready to try to post any. I'm just thrilled to be taking a few days off and trying to decompress. I've had some serious failures in that regard, but I'm working on it.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
On Hold
Blogging is on hold for a bit. I'm directing my energies elsewhere for the moment. But I might be reading your blog. Leaving Thursday PM or the next day for a few days on the road...but close by.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
I've spent my two hours this morning on the concept I reported last Thursday. I've written about a quarter of my business plan for the concept and I'm still excited about it. The process of writing a business plan does tend to calm one's excitement, since it forces an objective look at the competition, the costs of launch, the prospects for success or failure, etc. But it also helps cement the legitimacy of the idea, or it can do that. I'm not going to declare victory just yet, because I have lots of homework to do, but I still believe it has enormous merit and can be something that I can launch in one market and then readily launch in markets all over the country. Onward and upward!
While I was in Houston, I had dinner with my sister and our collective niece (a brother's daughter). We ate at a Mexican place called Doneraki, a name that I've never heard before and one that does not sound at all Spanish. My sister and my niece both ordered the special, a combination of flauta, taco al carbon, quacamole, rice, and beans. I ordered tacos al pastor. They were out of tacos al pastor, so I got the special, too, and it turned out to be pretty good.
While we were eating, I learned that my niece is teaching English, but she really loves to teach math. I needed a teacher like her, someone who both likes math and likes to teach...I didn't have a teacher like that. So, I never learned math well and certainly never learned to enjoy it.
My sister and I apparently had different parents and grew up in different households...at least if our tastes in food tell the story. She's not into hot spicy stuff, I am. She's not into sushi, I am. She's not into liver and onions, I am (I know, there are those on the InterTubes who would have me poisoned for such an admission). But, we both like Mexican food, so I guess we share some genetic make-up. My sister's car was broken into recently, leading her to decide she should give it to another brother. She says the neighborhood in which she lives is getting more and more street crimes, most likely vandalism by kids. She'd rather not give the monsters the opportunity to steal her car. If I had bucketloads of money, I'd relocate her to a nicer area, complete with garage for her vehicle. Alas, I do not have bucketloads of money. But, if my concept has legs, I might one day be able to afford another place for her.
I've not gotten out for my exercise yet this morning. I'll wait until my wife gets up. Maybe I can convince her to come along.
While I was in Houston, I had dinner with my sister and our collective niece (a brother's daughter). We ate at a Mexican place called Doneraki, a name that I've never heard before and one that does not sound at all Spanish. My sister and my niece both ordered the special, a combination of flauta, taco al carbon, quacamole, rice, and beans. I ordered tacos al pastor. They were out of tacos al pastor, so I got the special, too, and it turned out to be pretty good.
While we were eating, I learned that my niece is teaching English, but she really loves to teach math. I needed a teacher like her, someone who both likes math and likes to teach...I didn't have a teacher like that. So, I never learned math well and certainly never learned to enjoy it.
My sister and I apparently had different parents and grew up in different households...at least if our tastes in food tell the story. She's not into hot spicy stuff, I am. She's not into sushi, I am. She's not into liver and onions, I am (I know, there are those on the InterTubes who would have me poisoned for such an admission). But, we both like Mexican food, so I guess we share some genetic make-up. My sister's car was broken into recently, leading her to decide she should give it to another brother. She says the neighborhood in which she lives is getting more and more street crimes, most likely vandalism by kids. She'd rather not give the monsters the opportunity to steal her car. If I had bucketloads of money, I'd relocate her to a nicer area, complete with garage for her vehicle. Alas, I do not have bucketloads of money. But, if my concept has legs, I might one day be able to afford another place for her.
I've not gotten out for my exercise yet this morning. I'll wait until my wife gets up. Maybe I can convince her to come along.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
A New Energy
Being awake and alone in a hotel room very early in the morning, I have found, can nourish one's creativity. This morning, after arising at 4:45 a.m. so I could participate in a 5:00 a.m. conference call, I found myself strangely excited to be thinking about ways I might get involved in something new in business. The conference call, incidentally, was a flop, because only two othe people joined in, one from Japan and another from Australia (the reason for the odd hour was to accommodate people from all over Asia and Oceania). But the conference call got me thinking.
I began thinking of an idea I pursued, with too little energy and not enough knowledge, while I lived in Chicago in the late 1980s. Since then, the premise upon which my idea was based has been proven in ways that are, today, indisputable. But, I didn't have the wherewithal to pursue the idea properly back then. I may not have adequate wherewithal today, but I'm much closer to being capable of pulling off what I believe it a good idea with lots of merit. It's not too late.
I'm going to set aside at least 2 hours each day to pursue the idea. I will involve at least one member of my staff. I'm setting a target for deciding whether achieving the vision and implementing the idea successfully is within my reach. Before Christmas this year, I expect to know.
This early morning creative spark gives me another idea...I need to get up early every day and give myself time to think and to force myself to exercise. This, too, shall be a goal that I will plan to achieve.
I began thinking of an idea I pursued, with too little energy and not enough knowledge, while I lived in Chicago in the late 1980s. Since then, the premise upon which my idea was based has been proven in ways that are, today, indisputable. But, I didn't have the wherewithal to pursue the idea properly back then. I may not have adequate wherewithal today, but I'm much closer to being capable of pulling off what I believe it a good idea with lots of merit. It's not too late.
I'm going to set aside at least 2 hours each day to pursue the idea. I will involve at least one member of my staff. I'm setting a target for deciding whether achieving the vision and implementing the idea successfully is within my reach. Before Christmas this year, I expect to know.
This early morning creative spark gives me another idea...I need to get up early every day and give myself time to think and to force myself to exercise. This, too, shall be a goal that I will plan to achieve.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Wild Days
I'm off on a quick trip to Houston, flying in on Wednesday, returning Thursday afternoon. Even this short one is going to get me further behind at the office. Fortunately, I'll have an opportunity to have dinner with a sister and my niece and her husband. My Houston-based brother apparently decided he didn't have any interest in seeing me. Family
An employee told me today about round-trip airfare from Dallas to Guadalajara for $209. Must depart the Friday or Saturday before Labor Day, return the following Monday or Tuesday, I think. If my wife and I hadn't already decided not to spend any money, we might have gone for it.
A guy who offices next to our office suite dropped in today. He and his partner, who do leadership training, have been absent for a couple of weeks. He dropped in to encourage me to take a week off soon, leave the office every day at lunchtime, and give me a book written by a high-profile leadership speaker whose name escapes me. And he suggested I need to document my dreams (as in my wishes, not my nighttime fantasies). It's been ten years since he did it, he says, and he's amazed at how many of them that were preposterously out of reach at the time have now been achieved. Nice enough guy, but I keep seeing signs of evangelical Christianity lurking beneath his comments. I'm already signed up for a Spanish course and I've spearheaded a couple of neighborhood activities, so my promises to myself are starting to get attention. I have not promised myself a visit to Christiandom, and won't.
I was following my wife home from work today. As we approached a main street near our house, the driver of the car in front of her apparerently did not see that the car in front of him had stopped for the light. The second car slammed into the first one and then began rolling backward, very slowly, toward my wife's car. My wife was not hurt, as the car that rolled into hers just barely tapped it. But the guy in that car was knocked out cold. The air bag had gone off and, apparently, knocked him out. He came to a few minutes later. His car was very badly damaged. The car he hit was not damaged at all. We left after the police and fire rescue got there and collected my wife's info (she was a witness). We have no idea how the guy was...he refused to go the hospital.
Wild days.
An employee told me today about round-trip airfare from Dallas to Guadalajara for $209. Must depart the Friday or Saturday before Labor Day, return the following Monday or Tuesday, I think. If my wife and I hadn't already decided not to spend any money, we might have gone for it.
A guy who offices next to our office suite dropped in today. He and his partner, who do leadership training, have been absent for a couple of weeks. He dropped in to encourage me to take a week off soon, leave the office every day at lunchtime, and give me a book written by a high-profile leadership speaker whose name escapes me. And he suggested I need to document my dreams (as in my wishes, not my nighttime fantasies). It's been ten years since he did it, he says, and he's amazed at how many of them that were preposterously out of reach at the time have now been achieved. Nice enough guy, but I keep seeing signs of evangelical Christianity lurking beneath his comments. I'm already signed up for a Spanish course and I've spearheaded a couple of neighborhood activities, so my promises to myself are starting to get attention. I have not promised myself a visit to Christiandom, and won't.
I was following my wife home from work today. As we approached a main street near our house, the driver of the car in front of her apparerently did not see that the car in front of him had stopped for the light. The second car slammed into the first one and then began rolling backward, very slowly, toward my wife's car. My wife was not hurt, as the car that rolled into hers just barely tapped it. But the guy in that car was knocked out cold. The air bag had gone off and, apparently, knocked him out. He came to a few minutes later. His car was very badly damaged. The car he hit was not damaged at all. We left after the police and fire rescue got there and collected my wife's info (she was a witness). We have no idea how the guy was...he refused to go the hospital.
Wild days.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
A Day in the LIfe
The room in our house that was, once, my office has turned into a would-be guest room, but I've been using it to store long-dead computers, printers, keyboards, and the like. Yesterday, as my wife and I were returning home from an errand, we noticed a sign in a Dallas library parking lot..."computer equipment recycling." We stopped and spoke to a guy who was sitting between two large collection trucks. He informed us that Dallas has instituted a quarterly program to collect used computer gear. In addition, he said, they'll collect used clothes, furniture, etc. and turn that material over to Goodwill.
We rushed home, filled the trunk with two dead monitors, one dead computer, one dead keyboard, and one dead printer. Now, our guest room looks much more like a guest room. Guests would not have to climb over computers to find the bed.
So, we accomplished alot yesterday. In addition to recycling some old computer gear, I was able to formalize my registration for a Spanish class. Now, I'm all paid up and almost official...just waiting for the ID card with my photo on it, proving that I signed up for the class.
And there you have it. Snippets from a "day in the life" of a geezer.
We rushed home, filled the trunk with two dead monitors, one dead computer, one dead keyboard, and one dead printer. Now, our guest room looks much more like a guest room. Guests would not have to climb over computers to find the bed.
So, we accomplished alot yesterday. In addition to recycling some old computer gear, I was able to formalize my registration for a Spanish class. Now, I'm all paid up and almost official...just waiting for the ID card with my photo on it, proving that I signed up for the class.
And there you have it. Snippets from a "day in the life" of a geezer.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Always
Tonight, I've been sitting here in front of my computer, reading what I've written over the past couple of years. I wonder why I write this stuff? I want more than anything else to capture my thoughts and my emotions, but I find that I've allowed myself to pay particular attention to how people I don't even know respond to what I write. Let me say here and now that, at a fundamental level, I don't care. I can't care. Let me explain. While it matters to me what others might think of me, I can't let it matter too much. Whether you who are reading this find that the fact that I am overwhelmed with emtion when I hear Leonard Cohen's Tacoma Trailer to be strange or not so strange, it can't matter.
There's more to say. But I'm tired. I'm going to bed early tonight.
There's more to say. But I'm tired. I'm going to bed early tonight.
Drivel, but Fun Drivel
I've been "off" on my weekend early risings for a number of weeks, but it appears normalcy has returned. I woke up before 5:00 a.m. today. I'm still wandering around in my bathrobe, but I've been productive thus far, having done the dishes, cleaned up the kitchen, made a pot of coffee, and done a bit of reading from a several-years-old issue of Family Handyman. Not that I am one, understand, but wish I were.
So, now I sit at my computer, ready to share my thoughts with whomever happens upon this blog. But, first, I have to share an experience, one that I'm having right now. I believe I smell wood-smoke, but it's rather faint...except for the occasional 'blast' of odor that quickly dissipates. I wonder what it is? I lowered the thermostat, as it was a rather uncomfortable 83 degrees in the house (the thermostat is set to allow the house to warm during the day...and apparently we do not have the weekend morning setting just right), but cannot imagine the air conditioner giving off an odor of wood-smoke. Hmmm. I'll just have to be wary.
Two of my employees had bad experiences this week. One, the newest hire, got a call early in the week that her house had been burglarized...utterly ransacked. The thieves got away with televisions, digital cameras, clothing, shoes, etc., etc. and left the house a wreck. Clothes were strewn all over, drawers were emptied onto beds, kitchen cabinets were emptied onto the floor. From the sound of it, the burglars made an unholy mess of the place. My employee and her husband spent the remainder of that day and the next cleaning up...and looking for their dog, which had been let out by the thieves. Fortunately, they found the dog at the pound, delicate paws injured by thorns, but other than that, shaken but safe. Apparently, the neighborhood has been the target of burglars of late. Now, my employee has a new alarm system for the house.
The other employee went home Thursday to discover her apartment had been flooded when a pipe burst in an unoccupied apartment. Water was several inches deep in her place. Aside from the carpet, she reported that a leather sofa had been ruined, along with various other pieces of furniture, and much of her clothing had been damaged...and she had no renters' insurance and the apartment complex owner, an investment cooperative, was claiming no responsibility and no liability. Greedy thugs who manage and invest in the organization should be drowned in their own piss, if you ask me. I know, you didn't.
My wife and I have been discussing where we should go, if anywhere, over the Labor Day weekend. We plan to take off the Friday before, so we'll have another of our rare four-day weekends. We've considered using frequent-flyer miles to go to Boston, to Memphis, to Nashville, to New Orleans, to Bermuda...but the flight schedules are unattractive to us and we're not sure we want to devote a chunk of time to dealing with airports and airplanes. We've talked about driving to Little Rock to visit the Clinton Library, but the drive over isn't particularly appealing. We've talked about staying home and behaving like tourists. While the latter is the most likely scenario at the moment, because it's the least expensive, I'm feeling the need to do something decadent, like rent a villa somewhere...a place with a pool...and sit, relax, and sip cool drinks, with absolutely no agenda. I've never done that. It just sounds appealing at the moment.
Something that doesn't sound so appealing, but was actually interesting to watch last night as I took charge of the television remote, is learning to ride rodeo bulls. I stumbled across a "reality" show in which various celebrities (none of whom I had ever hear of...but one was a Baldwin brother...of the Daniel, etc. variety) were given several days of instruction on riding wild bulls. This took place at Ty Murray's ranch near Stephenville, TX. For those who do not know it, Ty Murray won the "World All-Around Rodeo Champion" title seven times. I did not know until this morning, when I looked up Ty Murray on Wikipedia (I guess because I live under a rock) that he is in a long-term relationship with country singer Jewel. Anyway, I watched a good half hour of the show before I gave up to do something else and, to my dismay, I found it really interesting. Apparently Ty Murray made a bucket-load of money as a rodeo cowboy and continues to bring in enormous sums in product endorsements. I've decided I am willing to do product endorsements that are appropriate to my field, association management. Maybe I should contact companies that sell gavels...I could endorse the gavels that board chairs are given to commemorate their years as "leaders" of the associations for which they volunteer. Or maybe I could endorse printers, since I do so much business with them: Monster Mega Quikprint: they're the only printer I'll use. When I need something printed, I want it done by a company that's as committed to professionalism as I am. I'll wear the look of an earnest businessman, no smile on my face, just a talking head, spouting the facts. Ka-ching! That'll be $375,000 for the endorsement, please!
September 18 is the first day of my conversational Spanish class. While I've been unable to register online, I have been assured by the instructor that I'll have books, CDs, etc. when I arrive for my first lesson. Now that I'm dreaming about Nova Scotia as a refuge, though, it occurs to me that I should, perhaps, take a course in Maritimes English (or a specialty course in Eastern Canadian dialects). If my memory of Halifax is correct, I should probably take a course or two in Gaelic so I can sing along to the Celtic rock bands that inhabit the clubs downtown. Actually, my Spanish might be a better entré to get to know Nova Scotians...maybe.
Enough of this drivel. I need more coffee...and a big glass of tomato juice, livened up with several dashes of Tabasco sauce and celery salt. Together, they'll awaken me from this stupor!
So, now I sit at my computer, ready to share my thoughts with whomever happens upon this blog. But, first, I have to share an experience, one that I'm having right now. I believe I smell wood-smoke, but it's rather faint...except for the occasional 'blast' of odor that quickly dissipates. I wonder what it is? I lowered the thermostat, as it was a rather uncomfortable 83 degrees in the house (the thermostat is set to allow the house to warm during the day...and apparently we do not have the weekend morning setting just right), but cannot imagine the air conditioner giving off an odor of wood-smoke. Hmmm. I'll just have to be wary.
Two of my employees had bad experiences this week. One, the newest hire, got a call early in the week that her house had been burglarized...utterly ransacked. The thieves got away with televisions, digital cameras, clothing, shoes, etc., etc. and left the house a wreck. Clothes were strewn all over, drawers were emptied onto beds, kitchen cabinets were emptied onto the floor. From the sound of it, the burglars made an unholy mess of the place. My employee and her husband spent the remainder of that day and the next cleaning up...and looking for their dog, which had been let out by the thieves. Fortunately, they found the dog at the pound, delicate paws injured by thorns, but other than that, shaken but safe. Apparently, the neighborhood has been the target of burglars of late. Now, my employee has a new alarm system for the house.
The other employee went home Thursday to discover her apartment had been flooded when a pipe burst in an unoccupied apartment. Water was several inches deep in her place. Aside from the carpet, she reported that a leather sofa had been ruined, along with various other pieces of furniture, and much of her clothing had been damaged...and she had no renters' insurance and the apartment complex owner, an investment cooperative, was claiming no responsibility and no liability. Greedy thugs who manage and invest in the organization should be drowned in their own piss, if you ask me. I know, you didn't.
My wife and I have been discussing where we should go, if anywhere, over the Labor Day weekend. We plan to take off the Friday before, so we'll have another of our rare four-day weekends. We've considered using frequent-flyer miles to go to Boston, to Memphis, to Nashville, to New Orleans, to Bermuda...but the flight schedules are unattractive to us and we're not sure we want to devote a chunk of time to dealing with airports and airplanes. We've talked about driving to Little Rock to visit the Clinton Library, but the drive over isn't particularly appealing. We've talked about staying home and behaving like tourists. While the latter is the most likely scenario at the moment, because it's the least expensive, I'm feeling the need to do something decadent, like rent a villa somewhere...a place with a pool...and sit, relax, and sip cool drinks, with absolutely no agenda. I've never done that. It just sounds appealing at the moment.
Something that doesn't sound so appealing, but was actually interesting to watch last night as I took charge of the television remote, is learning to ride rodeo bulls. I stumbled across a "reality" show in which various celebrities (none of whom I had ever hear of...but one was a Baldwin brother...of the Daniel, etc. variety) were given several days of instruction on riding wild bulls. This took place at Ty Murray's ranch near Stephenville, TX. For those who do not know it, Ty Murray won the "World All-Around Rodeo Champion" title seven times. I did not know until this morning, when I looked up Ty Murray on Wikipedia (I guess because I live under a rock) that he is in a long-term relationship with country singer Jewel. Anyway, I watched a good half hour of the show before I gave up to do something else and, to my dismay, I found it really interesting. Apparently Ty Murray made a bucket-load of money as a rodeo cowboy and continues to bring in enormous sums in product endorsements. I've decided I am willing to do product endorsements that are appropriate to my field, association management. Maybe I should contact companies that sell gavels...I could endorse the gavels that board chairs are given to commemorate their years as "leaders" of the associations for which they volunteer. Or maybe I could endorse printers, since I do so much business with them: Monster Mega Quikprint: they're the only printer I'll use. When I need something printed, I want it done by a company that's as committed to professionalism as I am. I'll wear the look of an earnest businessman, no smile on my face, just a talking head, spouting the facts. Ka-ching! That'll be $375,000 for the endorsement, please!
September 18 is the first day of my conversational Spanish class. While I've been unable to register online, I have been assured by the instructor that I'll have books, CDs, etc. when I arrive for my first lesson. Now that I'm dreaming about Nova Scotia as a refuge, though, it occurs to me that I should, perhaps, take a course in Maritimes English (or a specialty course in Eastern Canadian dialects). If my memory of Halifax is correct, I should probably take a course or two in Gaelic so I can sing along to the Celtic rock bands that inhabit the clubs downtown. Actually, my Spanish might be a better entré to get to know Nova Scotians...maybe.
Enough of this drivel. I need more coffee...and a big glass of tomato juice, livened up with several dashes of Tabasco sauce and celery salt. Together, they'll awaken me from this stupor!
Friday, August 17, 2007
Thinking Forward
I received an email today, and a snail mail message yesterday, suggesting that I consider selling my business. This is nothing new, of course, as business brokers are always on the prowl for business owners who are ready (or capable of being convinced) to explore a sale. These two messages, though, in the context of some of the interactions I've had with clients of late, give me reason to seriously consider whether I should at least explore putting my business on the market.
It's an odd service business, is some respects, but not unique. There are at least 500-600 others in the same business across the country, some very successful, others on the brink of collapse. Mine is somewhere in the middle. I'm paying six people a living wage, covering a big chunk of health insurance, offering paid vacation and holidays, and otherwise acting like a good, attractive employer. My wages are not high, but people have exceptional opportunities to enhance their skills, learn new ones, and grow in their positions.
But, and it's a big but, I am not happy doing what I'm doing. It's been that way for years. I wanted my own business, but I should have done it 20 years earlier. At this stage in my life, I'm not satisfied with managing associations for clients. I want something completely different.
So, I am altering my "to do" list for this year, and probably next. Submitting a piece of fiction for publication is no longer on my list. Instead, finding options for selling my business will take its place. I recognize that, for a number of reasons, I may be unable to sell my business. If that comes to pass, then I shall explore ways to minimize the outflow as I slowly decommission various parts of it. I haven't discussed this with my wife, but I think she's on my side. Our life it just not the way we want it to be...we don't have enough time to explore the world, explore our own psyches, and relax. We don't have enough time to breathe. So, you should not expect the Great American novel from me, at least not this year nor next year. Instead, I hope you will see my announcement that I've figured out a way to move on.
A week or so ago, I was looking at housing costs and weather histories for Halifax, Nova Scotia. I even persuaded my wife that the temperatures in the summer are worth the occasional winter frigidity. I have this sense that, if I don't do something before long, it will be too late. I may be wrong. But I'd rather look back at my "sense" with amusement than discover too late that it's infallible.
It's an odd service business, is some respects, but not unique. There are at least 500-600 others in the same business across the country, some very successful, others on the brink of collapse. Mine is somewhere in the middle. I'm paying six people a living wage, covering a big chunk of health insurance, offering paid vacation and holidays, and otherwise acting like a good, attractive employer. My wages are not high, but people have exceptional opportunities to enhance their skills, learn new ones, and grow in their positions.
But, and it's a big but, I am not happy doing what I'm doing. It's been that way for years. I wanted my own business, but I should have done it 20 years earlier. At this stage in my life, I'm not satisfied with managing associations for clients. I want something completely different.
So, I am altering my "to do" list for this year, and probably next. Submitting a piece of fiction for publication is no longer on my list. Instead, finding options for selling my business will take its place. I recognize that, for a number of reasons, I may be unable to sell my business. If that comes to pass, then I shall explore ways to minimize the outflow as I slowly decommission various parts of it. I haven't discussed this with my wife, but I think she's on my side. Our life it just not the way we want it to be...we don't have enough time to explore the world, explore our own psyches, and relax. We don't have enough time to breathe. So, you should not expect the Great American novel from me, at least not this year nor next year. Instead, I hope you will see my announcement that I've figured out a way to move on.
A week or so ago, I was looking at housing costs and weather histories for Halifax, Nova Scotia. I even persuaded my wife that the temperatures in the summer are worth the occasional winter frigidity. I have this sense that, if I don't do something before long, it will be too late. I may be wrong. But I'd rather look back at my "sense" with amusement than discover too late that it's infallible.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Chavez and Bush
I'm über-lazy at the moment. No creative spark, no energy to post much here.
Maybe later today...maybe in a week.
In the news...Chavez proposes changes to the Venezuelan constitution to permit him to serve indefinitely. What a surprise. Chavez and Bush are, deep in their corrupt little hearts, so much alike.
Maybe later today...maybe in a week.
In the news...Chavez proposes changes to the Venezuelan constitution to permit him to serve indefinitely. What a surprise. Chavez and Bush are, deep in their corrupt little hearts, so much alike.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Earthly Sneaks
It snowed last Thursday in downtown Santiago, Chile for the first time in eight years. And Chile is experiencing its coldest winter in four decades.
Hugo Chavez is taking full advantage of Sean Penn's visit. It will be interesting to hear what Penn has to say after he has "taken it all in" in Venezuela. I think Chavez is a nut-job, but anyone who loathes Bush the way he does can't be all bad.
At least 48 people are dead and scores are missing in floods in northwest China. Not that you'd read much about it in U.S. papers.
The town of Zaragosa in Nueva Ecija, Phillipines, is encouraging rat-killing by rewarding students who bring in the most rat tails collected by their supporters....family, friends, etc.
Bulgarian beaches may be beautiful, but beware of dangerous rip-tides.
Canadian Chief Justice Beverley McLachlin warns that there is a an access-to-justice "crisis" putting the country's legal system at risk. Apparently, the Canadians must have adopted U.S.-style justice, because McLachlin says the legal system in Canada is too expensive for the majority of Canadians.
If you're interested in Indian food from the Second Home of Indian Cooking (England), here's an interesting recipe for coconut mackerel currey that I'd like you to try (and invite me over to try it with you).
Speaking of English food, seems the Brits have taken a liking to one of my favorite U.S. Southern dishes, fried green tomaatoes.
Hugo Chavez is taking full advantage of Sean Penn's visit. It will be interesting to hear what Penn has to say after he has "taken it all in" in Venezuela. I think Chavez is a nut-job, but anyone who loathes Bush the way he does can't be all bad.
At least 48 people are dead and scores are missing in floods in northwest China. Not that you'd read much about it in U.S. papers.
The town of Zaragosa in Nueva Ecija, Phillipines, is encouraging rat-killing by rewarding students who bring in the most rat tails collected by their supporters....family, friends, etc.
Bulgarian beaches may be beautiful, but beware of dangerous rip-tides.
Canadian Chief Justice Beverley McLachlin warns that there is a an access-to-justice "crisis" putting the country's legal system at risk. Apparently, the Canadians must have adopted U.S.-style justice, because McLachlin says the legal system in Canada is too expensive for the majority of Canadians.
If you're interested in Indian food from the Second Home of Indian Cooking (England), here's an interesting recipe for coconut mackerel currey that I'd like you to try (and invite me over to try it with you).
Speaking of English food, seems the Brits have taken a liking to one of my favorite U.S. Southern dishes, fried green tomaatoes.
Oklahoma City
Yesterday, on the spur of the moment, my wife and I decided to take a day-trip. We had gone out the night before with a group of neighbors for what we call our Ethnic Night Out, having had a delicious Ethiopian meal. After all that socializing, we decided we needed a day to ourselves.
I'm not sure how we decided on Oklahoma City, but that's where we decided to go. OKC is about 200 miles north of us, an easily-doable distance for a day trip. Of course, we didn't leave the house until about 10:00 am, so we didn't have quite the full day to make the trip. On the way, we stopped at the Oklahoma tourist information center on I-35 an picked up maps, brochures, etc. By the time we had stopped, we'd decided we would go to see the Oklahoma City National Museum & Memorial, dedicated to remembering the victims of the April 19, 1995 bombing in OKC. And so we did.
The memorial to the 168 victims of the Oklahoma City bombing surprised me. The magnitude of the attack and the sheer number of the victims was just overwhelming. Even though the number of victims was just a fraction of the number killed in the September 11 attacks, it was overwhelming to me. The empty chairs of the memorial, each one dedicated to one of the victims, take up such a large area of the outside portion of the memorial.
I only took a few photos (click on any photo for a larger image) outside, in the open-air portion of the memorial. Photos are not permitted inside, an expression of dignity for the victims' families, I suppose. As moving as the outdoor memorial is, the museum is even more moving and more disturbing. One component of the exhibit is a room in which visitors sit and listen to a 2 minute audio tape of a hearing that was taking place when the bomb went off. It is the only know sound recording of the bomb blast, and it brings a sickened feeling to one's gut to hear it.
Seeing the videos, audios, newspaper headlines, and reading the details of how McVeigh went about planning and then executing his plot made me realize just how vulnerable we are to the actions of psychopaths. It made me think, too, that we need not live with these monsters trying to kill us. If we'd only take them seriously, listen to their sick sense of justice, pay heed to their perceived injustices, we might be able to steer them into something less monstrous or, at least, get inside their heads and stop them from doing their deeds. I'd rather prevent someone from doing what McVeigh did (and bin Laden and on and on and on) than punish them after they succeed.
There are photos in that museum of every single person who died as a result of McVeigh's violent attack in April 1995. I just think of how horrific it must have been for their families to realize, in an instant, that their loved ones were dead, killed by a terrorist who didn't care about any of them. McVeigh could not have done what he did, indeed no terrorist could carry out their actions, if he had been able to see the victims as people, people who had friends and families and people who had no role in the terrorists' perceived injustice. A song that I heard many, many years ago and has stuck with me ever since came to mind when I saw the photos of the carnage in that museum. It's by Roger Miller:
I'm not sure how we decided on Oklahoma City, but that's where we decided to go. OKC is about 200 miles north of us, an easily-doable distance for a day trip. Of course, we didn't leave the house until about 10:00 am, so we didn't have quite the full day to make the trip. On the way, we stopped at the Oklahoma tourist information center on I-35 an picked up maps, brochures, etc. By the time we had stopped, we'd decided we would go to see the Oklahoma City National Museum & Memorial, dedicated to remembering the victims of the April 19, 1995 bombing in OKC. And so we did.
I only took a few photos (click on any photo for a larger image) outside, in the open-air portion of the memorial. Photos are not permitted inside, an expression of dignity for the victims' families, I suppose. As moving as the outdoor memorial is, the museum is even more moving and more disturbing. One component of the exhibit is a room in which visitors sit and listen to a 2 minute audio tape of a hearing that was taking place when the bomb went off. It is the only know sound recording of the bomb blast, and it brings a sickened feeling to one's gut to hear it.
There are photos in that museum of every single person who died as a result of McVeigh's violent attack in April 1995. I just think of how horrific it must have been for their families to realize, in an instant, that their loved ones were dead, killed by a terrorist who didn't care about any of them. McVeigh could not have done what he did, indeed no terrorist could carry out their actions, if he had been able to see the victims as people, people who had friends and families and people who had no role in the terrorists' perceived injustice. A song that I heard many, many years ago and has stuck with me ever since came to mind when I saw the photos of the carnage in that museum. It's by Roger Miller:
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Neighbors on an Ethnic Excursion
Last Tuesday, "National Night Out," some neighbors a few streets over turned their front yard into a gathering place and my wife and I decided to join the gathering. It was a great time for the neighborhood kids, who loved the fire trucks and the police car with its very loud siren. We enjoyed ourselves, too, chatting with a few people we know and getting to know some neighbors who have not been in the area long.
We took advantage of the gathering to invite people to join us this Friday night for an Ethnic Night Out at an Ethiopian restaurant. To our delight, eight other people expressed interest, so we're leading a group of people, none of whom have ever had Ethiopian food, on a culinary adventure on Friday. Some of the folks say they're adventurous eaters, while others say they're definitely not...but I guess our enthusiasm convinced them to give it a try.
So, we'll all meet at 7:30 tomorrow evening and see how it goes. I'm going to try to convince at least a few of them to commit to trying gored-gored or kitfo or yebeg wott; I'll be satisfied with everything else being vegetarian. Maybe some missir wott, silssi, gomen...whatever. I do hope these people like the food. A few of them have said they do not like Vietamese or Thai, so they won't be joining us on those excursions.
This great little food fest is one of the few I'm allowing myself. I've been moderately good about keeping my diet lean and healthy and keeping my helpings small. The occasional splurge on something like Ethiopian is my reward for being good.
We took advantage of the gathering to invite people to join us this Friday night for an Ethnic Night Out at an Ethiopian restaurant. To our delight, eight other people expressed interest, so we're leading a group of people, none of whom have ever had Ethiopian food, on a culinary adventure on Friday. Some of the folks say they're adventurous eaters, while others say they're definitely not...but I guess our enthusiasm convinced them to give it a try.
So, we'll all meet at 7:30 tomorrow evening and see how it goes. I'm going to try to convince at least a few of them to commit to trying gored-gored or kitfo or yebeg wott; I'll be satisfied with everything else being vegetarian. Maybe some missir wott, silssi, gomen...whatever. I do hope these people like the food. A few of them have said they do not like Vietamese or Thai, so they won't be joining us on those excursions.
This great little food fest is one of the few I'm allowing myself. I've been moderately good about keeping my diet lean and healthy and keeping my helpings small. The occasional splurge on something like Ethiopian is my reward for being good.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
No Road Trip
I need to make my schedules earlier. I finally decided, today, that I was going to take next week off. I would join one of my brothers in driving another brother's car from Texas to Ajijic in Mexico. The brother I'd join, though, can't make the trip next week. So, I'm stuck. I'm not going to make the trip myself, having never driven it alone (or with someone, for that matter). Damn. I was ready to take a week off, on the spur of the moment. Probably better not to, though. There's too much work and the clients are restless. But I do feel a need to get away, so I just might. Maybe a 2 or 3 day trip, maybe more, to get the cobwebs out of my head and get my creative juices flowing. More on this later.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Lightening Bugs and Just Plain Bugs
As I drove down some dark backstreets this evening, just after I left the hotel where today's client meeting was held, I had a treat. These streets are near a creek that has, with our recent heavy rains, become very full. The wild and volunteer vegetation surrounding the creek, as well as the trees and the manicured hedges in the yards of nearby houses, has grown thick and lush and beautiful.
It seems the environment has become ideal, at least for tonight, for lightening bugs! I saw hundreds and hundreds of them, glowing for just a moment before 'going dark' and then popping up with a vapor-green light a few feet away. I haven't seen so many lightening bugs since I was a child. And I rarely see them at all. So, this was a great treat for me. And it calmed me, gave me an opportunity to relax and unwind.
My encounter with the lightening bugs, and their calming effect on me, was a good thing, because I was ready to strangle a gaggle of women to whom I had just listened for hours as they talked about their bargain purchases from Sam Moon. Sam Moon is a store that appeals primarily to psychotically consumptive women who, when they talk of their economic exploits, sound for all the world like erstwhile starving dingos yelping as they rip the flesh off of long-dead animals, feeding their frenzied hunger with anything rank and nasty and miserable. These beasts turn into pirahanas, their razor-sharp teeth ripping through anything and anyone who come between them and the target of their economic affections.
My reaction to these conspicuously consumptive deviants, these Imelda Marcus clones who believe "more stuff" is their ticket to heaven, was to wish I could make them go cold-turkey. Drop the cash, cut up the credit card, and make them rely on bartering to satisfy their need for fixes of "more stuff."
But I'm home now. Another similar meeting tomorrow, I'm afraid. Another mention of Sam Moon may send me over the edge. Rescue me from the bowels of hell, for that's where I think I am when I am with them!
It seems the environment has become ideal, at least for tonight, for lightening bugs! I saw hundreds and hundreds of them, glowing for just a moment before 'going dark' and then popping up with a vapor-green light a few feet away. I haven't seen so many lightening bugs since I was a child. And I rarely see them at all. So, this was a great treat for me. And it calmed me, gave me an opportunity to relax and unwind.
My encounter with the lightening bugs, and their calming effect on me, was a good thing, because I was ready to strangle a gaggle of women to whom I had just listened for hours as they talked about their bargain purchases from Sam Moon. Sam Moon is a store that appeals primarily to psychotically consumptive women who, when they talk of their economic exploits, sound for all the world like erstwhile starving dingos yelping as they rip the flesh off of long-dead animals, feeding their frenzied hunger with anything rank and nasty and miserable. These beasts turn into pirahanas, their razor-sharp teeth ripping through anything and anyone who come between them and the target of their economic affections.
My reaction to these conspicuously consumptive deviants, these Imelda Marcus clones who believe "more stuff" is their ticket to heaven, was to wish I could make them go cold-turkey. Drop the cash, cut up the credit card, and make them rely on bartering to satisfy their need for fixes of "more stuff."
But I'm home now. Another similar meeting tomorrow, I'm afraid. Another mention of Sam Moon may send me over the edge. Rescue me from the bowels of hell, for that's where I think I am when I am with them!
Free Weekends
I'm back, after my breather. Finally, after today and tomorrow, my string of work-interrupted weekends will stop,at least for awhile. This weekend is the umpteenth one that I've had to share with client meetings of one sort or another. Today, it's a board of directors meeting that begins at 5:00 pm and concludes tomorrow afternoon, though it's preceded by an earlier work session with a subcommittee.
A past president of one of the groups I work with advises me, strongly, to simply put my foot down and let the clients set their schedules around mine. I really should do that; this business of 4-6 weekends in a row, particularly in the heart of the summer, effectively stolen from me...it's just annoying.
This theft of weekend time notwithstanding, my lovely wife and I have tried to inject some relaxation into the weekends when we can. Last night, we went to see The Sugar Bean Sisters at the Water Tower Theatre, where we get season tickets each year. The play is described as "an offbeat story of romance, murder and alien abduction" set in a "wonderfully weird and wacky world that combines Tennessee Williams with Close Encounters of the Third Kind."
Generally, Water Tower Theatre does a great job and has only rarely disappointed us. Last night was one of those rarities. We did something we hardly ever do...we left after the end of the first of two acts. An hour of sitting stone-faced, punctuated by one or two weak laughs, is not my idea of a good time. Neither my wife nor I had read anything about the play...no reviews, no plot summaries, nothing...until this morning, the morning after. After having read a bit this morning, I wish I'd had the good sense to read about it before. Oh, well.
Because the theatre is just a hop, skip, and a jump from our favorite sushi place, at least we were able to save the evening. We stopped at Kampai before the play and enjoyed a smaller-than-usual meal that was, nonetheless, enormously satisfying. Something about sushi puts me in a good mood. When I eat sushi, I smile at people and I refrain from cursing the playwright and actors responsible for bad plays.
Speaking of food, I've responded to my doctor's admonitions about my triglycerides by taking my diet very seriously this last week or so...a dramatic reduction in restaurant food, a breakfast each day of shredded wheat, lots of water, small portions, focus on fish and veggies and chicken with very little beef, etc. And no booze. I suspect my road to triglyceride-recovery will be slow, but in the process I'm certain to lose some weight, feel better, look better, and have a better attitude. I've not been watching the scales...I'll let the doctor surprise me when they weigh me next visit.
With enough time and enough exercise, one day I might be a poster boy for a weight-loss program..."Here's a picture of the Geezer before, at 231 pounds, and here's a picture after losing 90 pounds!" And there I'd be, a mere shell of my former self, an emaciated little waif, smiling and holding out my tin cup, grasping a sign in my hand that reads, "will work for free weekends."
A past president of one of the groups I work with advises me, strongly, to simply put my foot down and let the clients set their schedules around mine. I really should do that; this business of 4-6 weekends in a row, particularly in the heart of the summer, effectively stolen from me...it's just annoying.
This theft of weekend time notwithstanding, my lovely wife and I have tried to inject some relaxation into the weekends when we can. Last night, we went to see The Sugar Bean Sisters at the Water Tower Theatre, where we get season tickets each year. The play is described as "an offbeat story of romance, murder and alien abduction" set in a "wonderfully weird and wacky world that combines Tennessee Williams with Close Encounters of the Third Kind."
Generally, Water Tower Theatre does a great job and has only rarely disappointed us. Last night was one of those rarities. We did something we hardly ever do...we left after the end of the first of two acts. An hour of sitting stone-faced, punctuated by one or two weak laughs, is not my idea of a good time. Neither my wife nor I had read anything about the play...no reviews, no plot summaries, nothing...until this morning, the morning after. After having read a bit this morning, I wish I'd had the good sense to read about it before. Oh, well.
Because the theatre is just a hop, skip, and a jump from our favorite sushi place, at least we were able to save the evening. We stopped at Kampai before the play and enjoyed a smaller-than-usual meal that was, nonetheless, enormously satisfying. Something about sushi puts me in a good mood. When I eat sushi, I smile at people and I refrain from cursing the playwright and actors responsible for bad plays.
Speaking of food, I've responded to my doctor's admonitions about my triglycerides by taking my diet very seriously this last week or so...a dramatic reduction in restaurant food, a breakfast each day of shredded wheat, lots of water, small portions, focus on fish and veggies and chicken with very little beef, etc. And no booze. I suspect my road to triglyceride-recovery will be slow, but in the process I'm certain to lose some weight, feel better, look better, and have a better attitude. I've not been watching the scales...I'll let the doctor surprise me when they weigh me next visit.
With enough time and enough exercise, one day I might be a poster boy for a weight-loss program..."Here's a picture of the Geezer before, at 231 pounds, and here's a picture after losing 90 pounds!" And there I'd be, a mere shell of my former self, an emaciated little waif, smiling and holding out my tin cup, grasping a sign in my hand that reads, "will work for free weekends."