I glaze over at most small talk. Seriously. Chat it up with me for more than a few minutes about the weather, your friend having an odd habit of sniffling when they're tense, or that funny thing you observed last Tuesday that caused you to laugh so hard you passed half your latte through your nasal cavities, and I'll start to get glassy eyed. I'll feign interest and attention but my mind will gently tip-toe away and start working on some work related problem or contemplate some of life's greatest mysteries, like why they brought all that luggage on a 3-hour tour.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
In Case Of Tension, Break Glass
Once I've spent the day in back to back meetings, gotten my chops busted in one of them, had to work through lunch because of the meetings and action items that came from them, and then had break it to my understandably frustrated wife that the product schedules and shifts may impact our chances for a vacation... why is it that nothing seems like it could come close to relieving the anger, stress, frustration and sense of hopeless more than heaving a chair through a window?
What is it about that primal act that seems like it would be so satisfying and such a release?
Hopefully I'll not find out. We'll see how the rest of this day goes.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
King of Paint
I'm convinced that the applications coming out for the iPhone are going to change the face of mobile computing forever. There are numerous tools already available that are productive, time saving, efficiency maximizing godsends. And there are usless gadgets and do-dads as well. After all, all work and no play.....
One of the apps in the latter category is an incredibly simple little drawing product that lets you scribble lines in four choices of color. It is right up there next to "iBeer" in the useless hall of fame. But with kids, useless is relative. So I installed it.
This morning, over breakfast, I took it out for them to both tinker with. When doing so, I showed them how it work by selecting the blue color and drawing a smear down the left side of the screen. I followed with a yellow one in the middle, and red on the right. Primary colors.
It took only a moment before I recognized something strangely familiar, and a moment or two later for the connection to be made. I drew the colors from the cover of Synchronicity. At least, it was close enough to trigger the weak sparking of some random, dusty brain cells, forming a connection from subconscious to consious thought.
I wish I'd remember more critical things over these little tidbits, but it seems my mind holds on to inconsequential details with the same randomness as it does the important stuff.
One of the apps in the latter category is an incredibly simple little drawing product that lets you scribble lines in four choices of color. It is right up there next to "iBeer" in the useless hall of fame. But with kids, useless is relative. So I installed it.
This morning, over breakfast, I took it out for them to both tinker with. When doing so, I showed them how it work by selecting the blue color and drawing a smear down the left side of the screen. I followed with a yellow one in the middle, and red on the right. Primary colors.
It took only a moment before I recognized something strangely familiar, and a moment or two later for the connection to be made. I drew the colors from the cover of Synchronicity. At least, it was close enough to trigger the weak sparking of some random, dusty brain cells, forming a connection from subconscious to consious thought.
I wish I'd remember more critical things over these little tidbits, but it seems my mind holds on to inconsequential details with the same randomness as it does the important stuff.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Putting My Finger On The Smell Of Fire
Most of us, at one time or another, have been exposed to the smell of an electrical fire or a burned-out motor. It's the dank, dark, heavily spiced smell of burning copper, electronics and plastics all combined with a pinch of cumin for taste. It's distinct, and when you smell it, you tend to seek out the cause with great concern and immediacy. After all, the shorting out of a hair dryer or the overheated washing machine motor can lead to greater issues in the home beyond wet locks and dirty dishes. An electrical fire in the home can bring the house down. Literally.
Tonight, while cleaning dishes and moving about the kitchen, that very smell caught my attention while close to the toaster and cappuccino maker. It was strong enough to make me stop in my tracks and start wildly sniffing about in search of it's origin. I unplugged both of those appliances, inspected them closely, and while I could not isolate them as the cause, the scent persisted in that immediate area.
As I moved some stacked papers to better evaluate the potential source, I noticed a drying finger-painting or two made by the kids earlier during the day. As I moved them aside in order to gain easier access to the outlet behind the counter, the smell of an electrical overload disappeared. Or better stated, it travelled with the paintings.
Yes. I'm hear to tell you that Crayola finger paints have the exact same smell as a burnt-out electrical appliance.
You would think, given that there's literally nothing 'natural' in the ingredients of that stuff, and that it's already one chemical away from a street-light and two chemicals away from a terrorist's weapon, that the makers might have found a simple way to neutralize the smell in the lab. Yet somehow, they've overlooked the olfactory impact of that particular product on the adults who buy it and bring it unknowingly into their homes.
Perhaps it was intentional. Perhaps there actually is an additive already there, intended to elicit momentary confusion in the lives of already harried and disoriented parents, just for some executive malfeasants own disturbed personal pleasure and satisfaction.
That, at least, I could respect for the mere creativity and innovation.
Tonight, while cleaning dishes and moving about the kitchen, that very smell caught my attention while close to the toaster and cappuccino maker. It was strong enough to make me stop in my tracks and start wildly sniffing about in search of it's origin. I unplugged both of those appliances, inspected them closely, and while I could not isolate them as the cause, the scent persisted in that immediate area.
As I moved some stacked papers to better evaluate the potential source, I noticed a drying finger-painting or two made by the kids earlier during the day. As I moved them aside in order to gain easier access to the outlet behind the counter, the smell of an electrical overload disappeared. Or better stated, it travelled with the paintings.
Yes. I'm hear to tell you that Crayola finger paints have the exact same smell as a burnt-out electrical appliance.
You would think, given that there's literally nothing 'natural' in the ingredients of that stuff, and that it's already one chemical away from a street-light and two chemicals away from a terrorist's weapon, that the makers might have found a simple way to neutralize the smell in the lab. Yet somehow, they've overlooked the olfactory impact of that particular product on the adults who buy it and bring it unknowingly into their homes.
Perhaps it was intentional. Perhaps there actually is an additive already there, intended to elicit momentary confusion in the lives of already harried and disoriented parents, just for some executive malfeasants own disturbed personal pleasure and satisfaction.
That, at least, I could respect for the mere creativity and innovation.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Watch Your Language
I had errands to run this morning, as did my wife, and when I talked to her at about 11.30, she indicated that she was at a shop with the kids and would be home for lunch by 12.30. Shortly after 12.30, the phone rang, it was her, and she was making a big deal about how well behaved the kids had been for her during the morning drive/shopping. She wanted to reward them by having me meet them for a family lunch. So we agreed to each drive to a favorite local spot, Aqui, in Willow Glen.
While there and enjoying our meals together, I got a text message from a friend who had been intending to swing by our house and pick up some computer stuff he needed to borrow. He lives only few minutes away. He also is a fan of Aqui, the restaurant we were at, as mentioned.
The exchange was brief and simple. Here's what I interpreted...
About 30 minutes later, as I drove up to our home, I recognized his car on the street and found him inside talking to my wife, who'd arrived moments before me. In typically rude, geek engineering fashion, I skipped the social pleasantries, greetings and salutations that my wife so graciously reminded me of a moment later, and just blurted out "What are you doing here?" or something to the effect.
It turns out that he knows Spanish, or at least one word more than I know. And that word is "Aqui". "Aqui" means "Here". So as he stated, we had two very different conversations at the same time.
Here's what he interpreted...
While there and enjoying our meals together, I got a text message from a friend who had been intending to swing by our house and pick up some computer stuff he needed to borrow. He lives only few minutes away. He also is a fan of Aqui, the restaurant we were at, as mentioned.
The exchange was brief and simple. Here's what I interpreted...
Him: "You around?" (Are you at home so I can drop by?)
Me: "Aqui" (No, I am at Aqui, having lunch)
Him: "good time?" (having fun?)
Me: "Si" (Yes, we are having a good time. So good I said yes in Spanish.)
About 30 minutes later, as I drove up to our home, I recognized his car on the street and found him inside talking to my wife, who'd arrived moments before me. In typically rude, geek engineering fashion, I skipped the social pleasantries, greetings and salutations that my wife so graciously reminded me of a moment later, and just blurted out "What are you doing here?" or something to the effect.
It turns out that he knows Spanish, or at least one word more than I know. And that word is "Aqui". "Aqui" means "Here". So as he stated, we had two very different conversations at the same time.
Here's what he interpreted...
Him: "You around?" (Are you at home so I can drop by?)
Me: "Aqui" (Here. Yes, I am at home.)
Him: "good time?" (is this a good time to come by?)
Me: "Si" (Yes, come by.)
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Shorter Of Breath...
One more lap around the sun. One more year has come and gone. There's really so many more important things on my mind and my plate then taking more than a moment to pause and recognize the carving of another tick-mark on the wall of time. Likewise for my wife, who's in the midst of solo kid-watching while work is being done on the house. I've repeatedly insisted that this be a low-key day. I'm even willing and quite happy to pick up some take-out on the way home for dinner. As long as there's a couple cards from the kids and a candle to blow out, this will be a quiet day and night for me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)