Of Man-no-grams and Flight Delays

Yeah, it's been a while in the blog-posting department and while no one other than me may care, I am not one for loose ends, so a bit of catching up is in order.

This is an "interesting" time for me, and, I think, others.  Note that I used the word "interesting" and not "good", although there is plenty of good to go around.  But before anything else, I'm going to deal with the crappy stuff first.

As a country we are lost, but there are signs of hope.  Now I understand that many of us can and do differ when it comes to issues of politics and such, but there is a kind of line in the sand that separates mere differences of opinion about policy and basic, functioning human decency.  The current president is not a decent human being, by any functional definition, and his leadership of this country screams of the worst of our collective instincts and history.  Don't take my word for it; see HERE, HERE, and HERE.  Just to pick three.  I would be lying if I said that I could pass off the daily insanity of Washington DC as being just background noise in my life, but I can't.  It impacts us all, and not in a good way.  Instead, I'll just say that, like many, I just try to deal with it, knowing that nothing lasts forever.

Also in the "less than ideal" department, I will note that my professional life has its share of ups and downs.  I try to be...and to do...good, and I think I make a positive impact on those I work with most days.  Or so they tell me.  But on many occasions I am doing it in an environment that is not always well suited to who I am.  That's not a criticism of who I work with, both directly above and around, but more so an acknowledgement that my personal values aren't always in sync with my working world.  I know, "circumspect much?" as I try to thread the needle here.  In the end, I try to balance who I am with what I do to earn a living.  See above though..."knowing that nothing lasts forever".

One recent and noteworthy event, at least for me, was the first of a now-annual mammogram (or, as I told Ms. Rivers, a "Mannogram").  This comes courtesy of genetic testing and a resulting BRCA2 mutation.  In a more perfect universe I would have a cool genetic mutation, like tail that could pick things up from the floor, but alas, I did not get to vote on the issue.  The actual experience for me was fine/uneventful, but I can appreciate how that's not necessarily true for women.  What helped was the wonderful technician at Geisinger Mt. Pleasant, who told me she typically has a about 1 male patient a week.  I will also note that I have two other related health screenings scheduled for later this year.  

On a final note, I am writing this from a hotel near the Philadelphia International Airport.  I am not supposed to be here, by the way.  Ms. Rivers and I are supposed to be on a cruise ship at this very moment on the St. Lawrence River, leaving Montreal and heading to Quebec City.  Two flight cancellations for today later, and we are going to meet our ship in Quebec City tomorrow.  This will be a flight west to Chicago to then go east to get into Quebec City, hopefully in time to meet the ship at port.  It has been a bumpy ride so far, and we haven't yet gotten onto a plane.  However we are nothing if not resilient, and Ms. Rivers (and I) have some traveling skills, so we are going to make an honest effort to catch up to our ship.    Some good luck might be helpful too.

On that note...

When Grace Seems in Short Supply

It has, admittedly, been a rough couple of weeks.  This comes on the heels of a rough year (this posting).  Yet while I can (and sometimes do) complain about things, the reality is this:  There are bigger...and with apologies to English teachers everywhere*... "worser" things afoot.  

As I write this, the news is consumed by events in Minnesota.  Specifically...

Alex Pretti Shot and Killed by ICE Agents

...which is just a kind of punctuation mark in a larger story about control, violence and the desire of one man to retain political power for the rest of his life.  A story that is still being written and with an ending that can't come soon enough.  We know the ending already, by the way, in that his mortal coil will fail at some point, and the United States will be left to sort through the damage.  I suspect that I won't live to see how long that will truly take.  Maybe that's a good thing.

The last time I felt this way was during the events of 9.11, when it all just seemed so overwhelming.  This comes from a place inside of me whereby I can't really fathom an event, where it seems surreal in a very horrible way.  I do feel a certain degree of anxiety that is widely generalized, a kind of pall that falls over me where nothing I seem to do takes me out of my own head for any length of time.  I tried cleaning, which usually works, but that didn't help.  I'll do some work stuff later, which may help, but that's got its own set of issues.  Writing this is helping...a little bit...which I suppose is better than nothing.

I did try to divorce myself from the news and social media, but that didn't last long.  Like a moth attracted to a lamppost on a dark night, I feel drawn to the horribleness of this event.  It's like part of me is searching for a big revelation, but yet nothing is in the offing.  There is, instead, a kind of societal rot that has been creeping into the collective us, where part of the net product is trying to understand why our government is killing American citizens.  It's a kind of end to something that we once took for granted.

  

Let's just hope that some sense of Grace returns to this country.  We desperately need it.

(*) Including my oldest daughter, Katrina.

Glittering Prizes and Endless Compromises

I love the song "Spirit of Radio" by Rush.  

Mind you that this has nothing really to do with the posting, but that doesn't change the fact that it's a great song.

By way of actual intention, consider this to be something of an update of sorts to my last posting.  To that point, I can report that a week + from the surgery that I am pretty close to being back to normal, with a few exceptions noted.  These include the fact that I will continue to be under lifting restrictions for a while to come and not being able to wear pants that have a belt is something of a challenge. I can live with both, by the way, thanks in part to my having stocked up on sweat and parachute pants.  Ms. Rivers also continues to ground me in reality every time I propose to do something stupid.  Which is often.

In hindsight, this has been more difficult than I imagined.  While I expected some pain after the main event, it ended up being more significant than I thought.  Not unmanageable, by any stretch, but more than I expected.  I'm talking about three nights sleeping in a chair, uncomfortable as it was.  And I hate sleeping in a chair, for the record.  The Hillbilly Heroin prescribed for the first three nights (well enough to cover three nights...) was helpful, but doing even the most basic things was a chore.  Now, the baseline level of pain is more like a mild discomfort, and I more or less don't get the throbbing pain from strenuous acrobatic activities such as "getting up" and "standing".  As I told someone at work, it feels like I have been getting better at a rate of about 5% per day.

Ms. Rivers and I, both being older than younger, still remember a time when these types of things resulted in overnight hospital stays.  To be honest, and fully in hindsight, I don't know that being in a hospital overnight or longer would have sped up my recovery.  This is in part due to the fact that your average hospital is in fact one of the least restful places you can find yourself at any given time.  This is out of necessity, which I get, but while sleeping in a chair at home I don't have to hear a buzzer coming from another room (for example).  And the lights are off.  What the same day surgery thing does require is a bit of diligence and reading comprehension, which makes me wonder why it apparently is as successful as it appears to be, but who am I to argue with success?  I just know that I am a rule-follower by design, so if the instructions say "don't peel your wound-glue like Elmers off your finger tips" then I gladly obey.

Productivity is down.

I have not been nearly as productive as I would normally be, which seems equal parts realistic and a non-event to everyone but me.  Being a rule-follower (as noted above), I have been pretty good at not exceeding the lifting limit placed on me, although I also confess to actually weighing a few things to see if I could get it to slide under the limit.  This is an example in action of the guilt I feel at not always being able to do things, to pull my weight, if you will.  In the far, dark corners of my head I can hear my mother yelling about my just laying around.  In my case now though I would have Ms. Rivers yelling about my doing too much (she actually doesn't yell...she doesn't have to...but it is a kind of motivational equivalency).  

As to what I have been up to, well, I finished watching all 17 seasons of "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia".  Great show, by the way.  

And yesterday I picked up leaves from the front of the house (all while not lifting more than 10 pounds).  And I've done some online shopping.  That's about it.  That's about enough as well.

Lastly, thank you to all who wished me well, checked in on me or otherwise sent good vibes my way.  Every word or comment has been deeply appreciated.  

"Useless, Useless"

Source:  HERE.

As I was in the recovery area at Geisinger Wyoming Valley surgery center, coming off 4+ hours under anesthesia, the first words out of my mouth, as I was looking at the IVs in both hands was "Useless, Useless".  Nurse Brittany, who was equal parts kind and exceptionally competent, wasn't sure what to make of it, other than to tell me "You still have them" (as in my hands, I think).

Edit:  I should have mentioned that I have no idea why, while waking up, I was thinking about John Wilkes Booth on his deathbed.  Welcome to my brain.

Note that going into surgery I just had one IV inserted.  In my preferred choice for such things, the top of my right hand.  Sure sign you are getting older:  You have a preferred IV location.  Anyway, I never got a good explanation as to why I ended up with two hands pierced, although it was clear that the second IV needle was about the size of something used for knitting, based on what I saw coming out and the pressure that needed to be applied to get the bleeding to stop.

Where does this all start?  Well one needs to go back to 2009 when I started to have some discomfort in my gut.  Over time said discomfort manifests itself in the form of a hernia, a type of which didn't require any immediate treatment (as noted by the passing of about 16 years).  My agreement with my doctors over the years was this would be treated if it caused me any problems.  Well, much like small squeaks in an older car eventually become loud squeaks, my gut issue got slowly worse over time.  While I could have tolerated the minor discomfort for longer, I also realized that I wasn't going to have an easier recovery from surgery if I waited longer, so I decided that this was the year.  Also not lost on me is the fact that I know two older people who waited too long to get hernias repaired.  Plans were made over the summer to do the deed on Wednesday, November 19th.

By the way, what I believed to be a single hernia ended up being three hernias.  Two of one type, the third being the largest and the original.

So yesterday was surgery day.  Everyone was prompt and the staff were exceptional, including my surgeon and the above-referenced Nurse Brittany.  Now I just need to heal and make some better life choices.  Fortunately, I have Ms. Rivers to help take care of me, which basically translates into preventing me from doing something stupid.  This is actually more time-consuming than one would think.

Speaking of healing, I am early into the process, so some on-going discomfort is to be expected.  By "discomfort" I mean something that ranges from a mild annoyance to it feeling like my abdomen is being used as Rocky's punching bag.  Not being able to cough is a bit of a drag as well.  

There are other gruesome details, but the point has been made.

This was, by the way, my 5th surgery (three as a child, one to fix my hand a few years ago and this).  Not having the need for a 6th would be pretty good in my book.

All things considered, I will be glad at some point in the not-too-distant future that I had this done now.  A sad fact of adulthood, as opposed to childhood, is that in the former, things almost never get better if you ignore them.  While I didn't ignore my little problem, well 3 little problems, now was the time.  I do have some time off from work, so I plan on not doing too much over the next few days.  Sometimes that's easier said than done, at least for me.

A final note:  As I was brought into the operating room, I saw the robotic device that was going to be intimate with my gut muscles.  My first question to the staff was "Do they call that the Hernia-nator 5000?"  I did get a laugh.  Speaking of laughter, that would hurt right about now, so I am going to quit while I am ahead.

Listed by Age

I had my annual business trip a few weeks ago, which by my prior travel standards is pretty lightweight stuff.  I specifically mean that, over the course of about 39 or so years in the workforce, only having to travel once a year is actually a bit of a refreshing change.  To digress for a moment, it's important to note the following from my personal perspective:

There is nothing good about business travel.  It involves a lot of running around, sometimes last-minute changes to arrangements, being "on" almost all the time, navigating different (and too much) food and having to be the buzzkill that doesn't drink alcohol.  

And I don't sleep well.  

I could go on, but the point is made.  Now I am exceptionally grateful for all of the opportunities I have had to travel on business.  In fact, the very first time I was ever on an airplane was a work trip for Prudential back in 1989. Over the years I got to see places as diverse as San Diego CA, Salt Lake City UT, Jackson MS, Minneapolis MN, etc.  I got to see a lot.  And at this stage, that's enough.

This particular business trip was something of an annual review meeting and planning session for the next year, held in Fort Worth, Texas.  I like Fort Worth, by the way, as it has a fairly laid-back feeling about it and the people have proven themselves to be exceptionally nice over the decades.  Why they elect folks like Rafael "I don't want to seem Hispanic" Cruz to the U.S. Senate is beyond me.  Side note, he doesn't need to learn Spanish for the Bad Bunny Superbowl halftime show because he already speaks it (just don't tell anyone, as it's a secret...I am kidding...he once got into a Spanish argument with Marco Rubio, which was very entertaining).

The meetings went well.  In attendance was the leadership team for my work group, and I was glad to be a mere participant, although I ran a part of the meeting that focused on talent.  My co-workers are good folks from across the country (coming into Fort Worth from Chicago, San Diego, Grand Rapids MI, Houston, and of course Northeastern PA).  Things moved along rather nicely.  Among my jobs during the meeting was to be what I'll call the "Slide Monkey", a.k.a. the person who got to show and navigate PowerPoint presentations for others.  

Now to the "Listed by Age" part.

Between presentations, for whatever reason, we had a brief discussion about how old everyone was, as in "Who here thinks they are the oldest in the room?".  Honestly, it was no contest.  I was the oldest, by about 10 years.  Thankfully, either by honest reaction or mere pity, one of my peers was surprised at my age.  Now I get the fact that such things may make HR folks* cringe, but as I noted before, my co-workers are good folks, so I wasn't too bothered by it.  Key word there being "too".

It was later that day when the whole age discussion became part of a nexus of things happening in my life related to career, next steps, purpose, etc.  It was a kind of cosmic breadcrumb leading me down a path.  

As the week continued, I felt even more aware of my age, in a way that has never really occurred to me before. And this isn't because of health challenges that I (and others who are getting up in years) face, but rather it really was more of an attitude/awareness kind of thing.  For one of the first times in my life, I actually felt old.

I own the above, for the record.  It doesn't make me sad.  I have no thoughts of dirt napping.  I don't feel washed-up, out of touch or some kind of technological Luddite.  I felt differentiated in a way, and it was okay.

Finally, and only quasi-related to the above, during the offsite the team had a rather brisk discussion about the use of AI tools such as Chat GPT.  Surprisingly, it was not the old people (*cough* me) that were the most adverse to it.  I respected the opinions shared, although it's very, very clear that, at this juncture, if you are in the business world, you need to be comfortable using these kinds of tools.  To end this post, I will share a few thoughts about AI...

• It's just another tool
• Unfortunately, it can be an excuse for people to effectively outsource sincerity when it comes to written interactions with others
• In creative endeavors, it is effectively intellectual property theft (see the "No AI Training" disclaimer of this site)

I don't worry about the businesspeople out there when it comes to AI...they will learn to use it.  Instead I worry about grade school kids not learning how to string original thoughts together using the written word.  This will not serve anyone's interest.

(*) By way of disclosure, I have a Master of Science degree in Human Resources from Villanova University and I am a Society for Human Resource Management (SHRM) Senior Certified Professional.

An Unusual Summer

It feels like summer has just begun.  This could be for a few different reasons…
 
…the weather has been decidedly un-summer-esque, with tons of rain
…because of the above, I haven’t been able to do much outside
…my brother’s passing in late April
 
…plus, the usual suspects of being tired from earn-a-living work stuff and just generally not always feeling all that well.
 
I fully realize that some of the above I can impact, while others, well, not so much. 
 
In any event, I have started to get some of my summer mojo back, having mostly cleaned out the garage, temporarily fixing the garage door, putting together a bench (that was sitting in my shed for over a year) and organizing some tools.  There was also the incident yesterday when I was using my miter saw and it nearly cut the tip of my thumb open (thank God for thumbnails), but we shall not discuss that any further.
 
I’ve also been starting to get some more important things done, such as getting a new pair of glasses.  My old pair, which I had for about a year, were simply horrible, as they were too large, kept sliding down my nose, and a few other things.  Having been wearing glasses since I was 5 years old, one would think that I would be able to always pick out good frames, but there was a lesson learned in last year’s selection: Don’t allow yourself to be sold something you don’t really want.  I remember getting the glasses last year at a time when the opticians’ office was very crowded, they didn’t have the kind of frames I wanted, I felt rushed and pushed to accept something that I didn’t think would work.  In any event, and as noted, lessons learned, and new glasses should be ready this week.
 
As a side note, I am currently wearing a pair from a few years ago that are working well.  See above (thumb…) as to why I really need to be wearing my glasses.  All of the time.
 
Hanging over all of that over the last few months has been the news, particularly that of what has come out of Washington D.C.  This continues to be something of a dark time, for many reasons I have already explained in the past.  This cannot end soon enough.
 
While summer from a “doing summery stuff” perspective has been lagging, what hasn’t lagged has been the actual calendar.  It feels like summer is going by too quickly.  Part of this I readily acknowledge is the fact that time in general seems to pass by more quickly the older I get.  That’s a kind of cruel joke. 
 
What won’t be a part of this summer is any kind of multi-day trip.  With Ms. Rivers starting a new job and the 6 weeks of new hire training for me at work (as in my conducting…), the timing hasn’t been good.  We will probably go on some kind of trip in October though, after time off has accumulated (Ms. Rivers) and (hopefully) I won’t be in perpetual new hire training.  We shall see.
 
Speaking of trips, over dinner yesterday, Ms. Rivers and I brainstormed all the trips we would like to take in the years to come, before we get too old and decrepit.  While we still have to prioritize these things, here’s the list… 

Ireland

 

Hawaii 

 

Caribbean

 

Puerto Rico 

 

Oregon/Seattle 

 

Southwest/Arizona/New Mexico

 

Las Vegas

 

Michigan/Mackinaw Island

 

Mississippi River Cruise

 

Savannah GA

 

Toronto 

 

Canadian Train Trip

 

Norway/Sweden 

 

England - London

 

England - Liverpool, Wales

 

Germany - Rhine River Cruise

 

France - Paris

 

Mediterranean Cruise

 

Italy - Rome, Florence 

 
…given the math associated with getting older, I think we should get started.
 
Finally, and speaking of summer, while visiting my sister-in-law on the 4^th, I spent a few quality minutes with her beehive.  It’s a good reminder of what is important in life, and I am not talking about honey, which I don’t particularly like anyway.  No, this is more about order, simplicity and purpose…
 
 

 

…all of which the world could use a bit more of these days.

Road Apples, #181

 

It's been a while since I've written a Road Apples posting.  A very long time in fact, well in how time seems to flow these days.  Anyway, here we go.

The Ugly Times

I was thinking about how, in 10 years' time (and God willing my mortal coil has not yet extinguished), I will look back at this point and time in our nation's history.  The best I've come up with is the phrase "The Ugly Times".  There is no defending ripping families apart.  No justification for masked individuals purporting to be federal law enforcement officers but yet not in uniform, taking people out of their homes, places of work, immigration courts (the irony is steamy in those cases) and schools.  In this country law enforcement serves the people, a concept that runs counter to faceless people piling out of an SUV to abduct someone.

Yes, we can enforce the nation's immigration laws, but this is not the path.  In 10 years' time, many will feel shame.  I hope.  If they are even capable.

Retirement

Being in my very early 60's, I've been more seriously thinking about retirement.  I am very interested in opinions from others about retiring "early".  If someone could retire at age 62, for example, should they?  A key parameter to consider:  Through a combination of hard work and luck, the financial aspect of retiring early isn't much an issue for me.  Any opinions you may have would be greatly appreciated.  Feel free to comment or email me at steve_g1964@hotmail.com.

Note:  If there is someone out there reading this who feels compelled to spam me or offer any other kind of solicitation, my reply will be the entire Unibomber Manifesto.  I am not kidding.

It's Raining (for a change)

It's not raining now as I start writing this, but it is virtually guaranteed that, by the time I finish it (in a day or so) it will have rained at least once.  In years past, for example, a forecast of "23% chance of rain" pretty much meant that it wasn't going to rain.  This year?  That means that it will absolutely, positively be raining at some point.  Has forecasting gotten that bad?  Was "Big Balls" set loose at NOAA?

Don't Look Back in Anger

I was eating lunch last weekend at a burger place and this song was playing in the background with its chorus of "And so Sally can wait, she knows it’s too late...".  Never heard it before.  I googled the lyrics, and it is from "Don't Look Back in Anger" by Oasis.  In addition to being just a great song, it seems to fit with the premise noted in the first part of this posting.

 (Fun Fact:  The song is sung by the lessor crazy Gallagher brother, Noel).

It also feels oddly fitting when I think about how I have been feeling over the past few weeks.  I'm not holding onto any real anger towards anyone else.  Maybe though this is about holding onto other things well past their appropriate time.  This is part of the magic of music I know to be true: It is almost entirely non-linear in that what I hear may not be what was intended or what others hear.  Like I said, magic.

Father's Day...in the Living Years

For whatever reason, I've recently realized that the song The Living Years is just about as great a song about fatherhood as has ever been crafted.

 

For the record this does not remind me of my own father.  While I've written about my father in the past and am not really all that interested in revisiting things now, I'll simply state that my father was not in any measurable way a part of my life.  He was, in essence, a kind of "anti-example".  If anything, the lyrics of The Living Years make me think about my own legacy as a father, as well as others that I know who had fathers that were a part of their lives.

Here's the thing about legacies though: They are always written backward in time, likely in a time and place where the mortal coil will have ceased functioning.

I think the best fathers are very aware of the things they wished they had done differently, which seems to me to be the real message of the song The Living Years.  I know that there are things I wish I had done differently, but I also know that at any given moment in those past times, I was trying to do the best I could.  More than anything else, I tried to simply be present, unlike my own father.  I also hope that I have provided some sense of stability, of reasonability, of order of a sort in a world that I knew was becoming increasingly unstable, unreasonable and chaotic.  You just need to read the news to see this displayed in real time.

These days I live in what I've told Ms. Rivers is the paradox of conscious parenting: You prepare your sons and daughters to be independent and live out in the real world, making their own lives, which will often mean that you see them less.  While there have been things going on in my life that aren't necessarily very positive, words cannot express how very happy I was for my daughters to all be there when Ms. Rivers and I had an early anniversary get together a few weeks ago.  For about 2 hours when they were there, I was able to be immersed in the very best thing I have ever done as a human.

In the final analysis, I try to be a humble person, but when I think about how my children are doing, well, I have to give myself some extra grace in the pride department.  

So Happy Father's Day to all the dads that showed up, did their best, and have gotten the opportunity to look with pride upon their children, whether that view be from this world or the next.  

* * * * * *

The Living Years

(songwriters B.A.Roberston, Mike Rutherford)

Every generation

Blames the one before

And all of their frustrations

Come beating on your door

I know that I'm a prisoner

To all my Father held so dear

I know that I'm a hostage

To all his hopes and fears

I just wish I could have told him in the living years

Crumpled bits of paper

Filled with imperfect thought

Stilted conversations

I'm afraid that's all we've got

You say you just don't see it

He says it's perfect sense

You just can't get agreement

In this present tense

We all talk a different language

Talking in defence

Say it loud, say it clear

You can listen as well as you hear

It's too late when we die

To admit we don't see eye to eye

So we open up a quarrel

Between the present and the past

We only sacrifice the future

It's the bitterness that lasts

So Don't yield to the fortunes

You sometimes see as fate

It may have a new perspective

On a different day

And if you don't give up, and don't give in

You may just be OK.

Say it loud, say it clear

You can listen as well as you hear

It's too late when we die

To admit we don't see eye to eye

I wasn't there that morning

When my Father passed away

I didn't get to tell him

All the things I had to say

I think I caught his spirit

Later that same year

I'm sure I heard his echo

In my baby's new born tears

I just wish I could have told him in the living years

Say it loud, say it clear

You can listen as well as you hear

It's too late when we die

To admit we don't see eye to eye

OLD

Preface...I started and (mostly) finished this before the passing of my brother Joe.  I have more thoughts on that (my brother's passing), which may get into another posting eventually.  But for now, a few thoughts on the subject of getting older.

 

Yes, another year and I am officially older now.  No sense throwing out statistics, but let’s just say I am old enough to be considered grown up, although I don’t always think of myself that way.  My body sometimes takes offense to that second part, and routinely reminds me of such, but that sort of thing happens to all of us.  Yes, age truly is the great equalizer.  Body part showing signs of wear and tear duly noted, I have a lot to be thankful for as I jet past this life anniversary:

 I have daughters and stepsons who are healthy, very smart and doing well.

I have a wife who is my favorite non-cat and who tolerates my (many) idiosyncrasies.

I continue to have dual gifts of curiosity and persistency.

 I can still hear the birds, smell the flowers, feel soft cat snuggles, and taste good pizza.

This is not to say that all is well and perfect, because it ain’t.  As alluded to above, I need to take better care of myself physically, which I know is intrinsically linked to my own mental health.  Speaking of mental health, I am also blessed that, in spite of many reasons to the contrary sometimes, I still wake up each day thinking about the things I want…and often have…to do, without it being overwhelming.  In fact, I will say that getting older has been decidedly better for my mental health, as I often now days find myself asking “why should I even care about this?” frequently.  This is a very good thing, by the way.

As a side note, if there is one self-help book everyone should read, it’s this one:

 
(you can find it HERE on Amazon)

When I think about what has informed my outlook on things over the last few years, I have to acknowledge how important this book has been.

Back to being older.

Ms. Rivers asked me if I had any ruminations about starting the first full decade of my 60's.  Well, here we go:

Whether we want to admit it or not, we never really escape our childhood

The older I get the more I find depth in simplicity

Comfort > Fashion

Life does not happen in a linear progression

Most dogs are better than most people...which is why I don't own a dog

This is Water should be required reading for everyone

Anger is the ultimate waste of time and energy

Ponder this:  John Lennon was 25 years old when he wrote "Nowhere Man"; by that measure we are all abject failures

It's okay to have regrets; it's just not okay to live a life centered around them

The older I get the better I am at managing pain (of all kinds)

What most folks get wrong about Star Trek?  The Enterprise is as much a character in the show as Kirk or Spock (which is what the newer movies get wrong)

Cats are necessary because they remind us that we are not the center of the universe...they are

You only truly miss a sibling when they pass away

The only people who say "I never use Algebra as an adult" are those who really didn't pay all that much attention in Algebra class

The older I get the more I am okay with not knowing everything...and that's a long list

The chorus in the song #9 Dream (“Ah! böwakawa poussé, poussé”) doesn't mean anything...and yet it is perfect for the task; the lesson?  Not everything has to mean something

The Great Gatsby still sucks

"Love makes your heart pound!", yeah, well often true love is the most calm thing you can feel

Smell the flowers

Anyone can sing or write or dance...it's just that not everyone can do one or all of those things well

There's nothing more stupid and pathetic than someone who mistakes cruelty for genius

My life has been fine without Brocolli

Don't buy cheap shoes

Do buy cheap tools...until you have the money to buy good ones

Truly smart people don't have to remind you of how smart (they think) they are

It's impossible to overrate the importance of smelling good

Being confident is far less important than seeming like you are confident

Playing a musical instrument is a super-power

Beavis > Butthead

There are only two kinds of pick-up trucks:  Those for work and those for show; I don't trust people who owns one just for show

Someone's right to get high or drunk (or other such things) ends at the tip of their nose and does not extend to forcing me to involunintarily participate in their stupidity

Never, ever underestimate the importance of good dental hygiene 

In business, the order is "ready-aim-fire" (not "ready-fire-aim")

There's really no such thing about chaos...there's a pattern to everything, as long as you have a large enough population and the time to analyze it all

A hot shower cures many ills

Plants remind us that there is a season for everything

It's perfectly okay to like Supertramp and Ramstein and Strauss

John Mellencamp is right:  An honest man's pillow IS his peace of mind

Mission accomplished.  Back to getting older.

There is work yet to be done.

I am inching towards retirement one of these years.  Maybe sooner rather than later.  We shall see.  Part of what goes with this is the very real question of just what the heck would I do with myself when I do retire?  I have thoughts, but I acknowledge that I need to think about this more over this next life cycle.  Having things like that to think about is a good thing.

I also need to work on my people-ing skills.  The odd part of this is the fact that I’m better at that sort of thing when I am being paid for it (a.k.a., at work) but pretty terrible at it otherwise.  Part of me wonders if I have this notional human interaction bank that currently gets mostly drained at work, leaving not much left for my civilian life.  It’s an interesting theory.

All of the above noted, it’s time to begin the next rotation around the sun.

More to come.