Thanksgiving 2019

I'll get back to the Germany pictures in just a minute. But first, a word from our sponsor

 - - Thanksgiving!

We're not traveling for the holidays this year, since there are simply too many things to get done around here. Cleaning the house in preparation for guests, setting the table for 12, doing a little last-minute shopping to make sure we have everything we need for tomorrow -- oh, and I suppose I should actually do some of that work I'm supposed to be getting paid for. Ha! As if I could even think about it long enough to accomplish anything! I'm ensconced down here in the basement ostensibly working but mainly fretting about all the really important things that need to be done: housework, lawn winterization, basement trim, car repairs,naps ...

Cheryl and Adam are busy getting ready for tomorrow. Cheryl is arranging furniture, figuring out some recipes, puttering here and there; Adam is making some muffins. Our good friends, the Shapins, are coming over around noon to share in the feast with us (including all the food they bring over), and the place is going to be just silly with goodies!

After we all eat our share -- whatever we can manage - we'll hang out for awhile doing the old chat-fest thing, then move our overstuffed carcasses over to the couch and sleep through a football game or something. Or crochet. Or do puzzles. Or games.

It's always a great day to spend with friends and family, fussing over food prep in the morning and stuffing ourselves at dinner and then doing absolutely nothing (except perhaps cutting another slice of pie with a side scoop of ice cream) in the afternoon.

We hope everyone else has a wonderful day full of good food, good friends, good naps, and followed perhaps by good shopping on Friday, if that's your thing. Safety first, though! None of that 5 am hanging out in front of Walmart, getting crushed by over-enthusiastic crowds just to get a good deal on something no one really needs (although the people selling it would really like it if you would keep them employed).

And we hope that no one has been inconvenienced or injured by the severe weather currently rolling across the country. The Northwest got a bit of cold & rain & wind, then certain parts of the "real" midwest (e.g. Colorado) got hit with some of it -- I think I remember seeing something about flooding in Phoenix, too -- but once it got over to Iowa or Illinois, it split up with some headed north to Canada and the rest wandering down to the Appalachians, undecided whether to pound Florida or New York.

We got wind and rain. Only wind and rain. And for that, I am thankful.

There is so much to be thankful for.

I am thankful that we have already had our first snow, and that I was able to get some good exercise by shoveling it. But not too much.

I am thankful that I have a job.

I am thankful that my wife is able to help children learn to read and write and do math.

I am thankful that my kids are wonderful people who are kind and helpful to others.

I am thankful that my cars all fit in the garage and I don't have to scrape windshields every morning.

I am thankful that our house is warm and our fridge is cold and the basement is dry and the roof doesn't leak.

I am thankful that we have good friends to share the holidays.

I am thankful we were able to spend time with my parents and siblings this past summer.

I am thankful we were able to travel to Germany in October and spend time with our extended family there.

I am thankful to live in a country where I can travel freely and see beautiful places and visit old friends and make new ones all along the way.

I am thankful to live in a prosperous country full of good people.

I am thankful to have parents who taught me to love God from my youth.

I am thankful to have grown up in the community of Christians who mentored me in my faith.

I am thankful to have found true love.

And I'm thankful to have been given this opportunity to live here and now, to love and be loved, to feel the joy and happiness bestowed upon me by others, to share in this life with you! God bless you all with a million more reasons to be thankful!

Germany - Day Seven

We started out the morning by walking across the bridge into downtown Dresden and jumping onboard a little cruise boat which took us up the Elbe River quite a ways to a little town which boasted a hillside winery.

We got off the boat and walked through the little town to the winery on the hillside (which we had seen from the boat). The winery had an excellent gift shop (with rest rooms!) which we returned to after taking the tour of the grounds; the winery featured a lovely (and fancy) house, complete with a video sales pitch in the formal dining area, a chapel of sorts at the top of the hill, and a lovely walk through the rows and rows of late-season plants. 

After we were all done, we walked across the street to catch the bus to Radebuel, a suburb of Dresden, which has the world-famous Karl May Museum (and you really should check out the link, because this was an amazing hole-in-the-wall museum of American Western culture as dramatized by a German author who wrote best-selling books about it back in the late 1800s, the Zane Grey of his day). I'd never heard of him, but boy! is he famous in Germany!

After that thoroughly exciting experience, we got back on the bus and went a little further down the street to catch the train back to town. While on the new train, we saw this old train sitting on a sideline, a kind of little locomotive park, which Dad would've just loved to stop and check out. Unfortunately, we didn't. But it would sure be fun to go back and see it up close!

By the time we got back to the apartment, we were all worn out and ready for a night of relaxation, so we had a simple pasta dinner and sat around the table playing card games (e.g. rummy) and, except for James and I, who stayed up too late yapping, went to bed at a reasonable hour.

Germany - Day Six

It was a very hot night and we didn't sleep as well as I would've hoped, but we had a lot to do and we were eager to get everything cleaned up before James and Tabea woke up. So we cleaned up & packed up & breakfasted (quickly) on bread and cheese and butter and Nutella, then dragged the luggage downstairs and dashed down the street to the tram to take us to Augustusplatz where we would catch the train to Dresden.

We found Sten and Ina in short order, then took a bit of a walk to the Castle in the middle of town (can't remember the name of it) and wandered around like tourists with our eyes bugging out and our coats wrapped securely around us to protect from the rather cool weather.

Then we took the tram to the Mall where we were (finally!) able to pick up a bite to eat for lunch.

Then we wandered around aimlessly (one of my favorite activities!) until it was time to take another tram over to Marie and Simon's apartment for tea. By 'tea' of course I mean tea-coffee-cake-and-more-cake (one of which was made by Charlotte!) while watching 'Uncle James' play with baby Karl.

Afterward, we took a long walk back to our little home-away-from-home; James and Cheryl and I took the opportunity to relax while the rest of our hearty crew went out shopping for food for dinner, which they brought back to the apartment so we could feast!
 

Cheryl and I stayed at the apartment while Sten and Ina and James and Tabea went to the Opera to watch Sleeping Beauty.  They had a good time and told us all about it when they got home.

Germany - Graduation Day!

Up top of the building in which the graduation is to take place, James points out an interesting item on the horizon. Probably an historical site, or a park where they often go to relax, or perhaps even a favorite restaurant.

James and soon-to-be-graduate, Tabea, atop the building on a windy day, trying not to take flying lessons.

Tabea at the official Graduation. Congratulations!!

Germany - Day Four

---

Day Four - A Walk in the Woods to Collect Mushrooms

---

We went over to the adorable summer cottage where Gerd and Sigrid live (they are Tabea's maternal grandparents) and had an extremely filling "tea-time", complete with jello cakes and chocolate-coated gingerbread cookies, then went for a refreshing hike through the woods to collect mushrooms for dinner. While wandering through the woods, we came upon a big hole in the ground. It is a ventilation shaft for one of the silver mines which fill the mountains around here.

To keep curious people from exploring too closely and possibly falling into the hold and discovering a new vein of silver, there are fences surrounding the hole -- so we stood just outside the fence while Gert told us stories about the mines. He is quite the storyteller!

This is one of those mushrooms that you are not supposed to eat. They will give you a nasty tummy-ache.

We had a lovely walk through the woods. Cheryl especially enjoyed being back among the trees, reminiscent of our old home in Washington. Tomorrow is graduation!

Germany - Day Three

James and I took a nice, long walk through a woodland trail just up the road from where we were staying, and he showed me a cute little lake.
Here are pictures!

---

Day Three - A Visit to a Small Lake

---

It was a lovely walk through the woods with the fall colors and the crunchy leaves and the brisk, cool air. We walked til our legs were about to fall off (especially mine, which are old and weak), and then we came upon a beautiful little lake.

It looked just like a picture-puzzle, so we stood and stared at it for quite a while, talking about how beautiful a place Germany is, and how nice it is to hike through the woods, and how relaxing it can be to get away from it all. I really wish that I could do this more often.

And that night, we went dancing at the studio where Sten and Ina take lessons. It was a nice place, and we had a wonderful time, almost remembering our steps! We only stayed a couple hours, but got lots and lots of exercise.

Germany - Day Two

Our first great adventure trip while in Germany was a visit to the famous Hunting Lodge in Augustusburg.
Here are pictures!

---

Day Two - A Visit to Augustusburg Hunting Lodge

---

The Map shows our route from Leipzig to Augustusburg. Well, it's one route -- I wasn't really paying attention during the long drive, as the countryside was far too interesting than the road itself. But just so you are aware, we were traveling south-east towards the Czech Republic, towards the mountainous area where there are lots of castles and things, so it was a very pretty drive. Actually, I may have taken a quick nap, too.	Once we actually arrived, we found a few maps posted on the grounds so that we could figure out what we wanted to see. This one is the map of Augustusburg from inside the "complex". It shows the hunting lodge up on the hill overlooking the little village. We're actually standing in the grounds of the hunting lodge. But we're not hunting. Yet.
There were lots of exhibits to see here, and most of them required these things called "tickets". Rather than purchasing them one at a time (and getting nickel-and-dime'd to death), we opted for the day pass so we could just wander around and see whatever we wanted. Naturally, I let James and Tabea and Sten and Ina handle all that stuff, because I am not good with money (which is why I rarely have any with me). With our passes in hand, we started our tour.	One of the first exhibits we found was this weird room full of optical illusions (sadly, I didn't get any pictures of them). There were curved mirrors and trick photograph arrangements (false perspectives, etc.). The same kind of exhibits they have in Hollywood where they show you how all the special effects shots are done in the movies. Only more interactive. You could actually put yourselves in the shots, and they encouraged you to take lots of pictures. Unfortunately, the lighting wasn't strong enough for my ancient iPhone 4S to get clear shots, so most of my pictures were too fuzzy for public consumption.
James and Tabea have wandered into one of the optical illusion rooms.	Oh, no! They've decided to see what optical illusion this is...
...and here you see the result. Tabea has grown so tall! Or has James shrunk?	The rest of us watch the fun ... and laugh!
Oh, no! Now what have they gotten themselves into?	After a couple hours of running around inside the main building, seeing what there was to be seen (if you could trust your eyes!), it was time to sit down and get a nice, cold, frothy beverage ... like a Coke!
Here is the pretty view of the countryside from atop the tallest building.	And here is the pretty yellow church down in the village. Perhaps we should go visit?
Heading down to the village...	Getting closer to the church - and look! there's a May-pole right there in the middle of the street!
We were walking down the street and I noticed these absolutely beautiful doors. Reminded me of my dad, who can do amazing things with wood.	Just lovely.

Germany

In which our intrepid heroes brave the frigid air of the stratosphere to visit their kith and kin across the pond (and over the hills)
It was an epic adventure. Sure to be told in song and story for years to come.
As soon as we recover from jet lag.
Here are pictures!

---

Day Zero - The Flight

---

Due to my inherent panic about being late to anything, we arrived at the Grand Rapids airport in plenty of time. At least half an hour before the plane was to start boarding. Once we're comfortably seated at the gate, I can finally relax. So here I am at the Grand Rapids airport, relaxing while waiting for the start of our trip to Germany!	Cheryl patiently put up with my anxieties and kept busy by working on her latest crochet project. She was also looking forward to continuing the project once she got in her seat on the airplane. Well, that makes sense. We'll be sitting on airplanes (and in other terminals) for at least the next twelve hours or so, which is plenty of time to make good progress on a craft project!
Finally, we're in the air and making progress towards our destination! Cheryl is a happy flier and looking forward to several hours of restful crocheting. I'm looking forward to several hours of either sleeping, or watching movies on the teeny-weeny screens they have.	Our first stop was Washington, D.C. From there, we went on to Zurich, Switzerland before heading to Leipzig. Along the way, we were able to see some of the Alps!

---

Day One - On to Bad Schlema!

---

We finally got into the Leipzig airport where James and Tabby picked us up and took us back to their apartment. We were very exhausted - Cheryl because she doesn't really sleep on airplanes, and me because I don't have enough common sense to turn off the little TV screen in front of me and stop watching multiple movies at the same time. (Did you know that you can see five or six screens from your seat on one of those overnight flights? It's better than having control of the remote because you can watch five movies at once!) Once we got a chance to lie down, it was Nap Time!

After a nap and a very nice dinner out and then a restful night's sleep at the apartment, we got up early and headed over to the train station to catch a ride to Bad Schlema where Tabea's parents live. We had decided that it would be more comfortable for everyone if we went there right away rather than spending another night in Leipzig since there was more room. Plus Sten was going to barbecue! Yay, food!

Another thing that we really enjoy about traveling around in Germany is how comfortable the trains are. There is always a bit of a panic in my head when we have to get to the platform by a specific time in order to catch the right train, but once we are on board, it is so nice to just relax and let them deal with "driving". And with four of us, we could sit around a little table and just chat. Or check our phones. Or read.

Unfortunately, I didn't get any pictures of the feast which awaited us in Bad Schlema. Which is probably a good thing, since it would only consist of pictures of people stuffing their faces with all sorts of yummy food. Mostly I just felt guilty because I had not been studying my German lessons like I should have, so missed out on a lot of excellent conversation. Still, it was very nice to just sit and listen and watch people's faces and try to guess what was being said by the expressions on people's faces. Every once in a while, James or Tabby would interpret someone's comment, but most of the time, we just sat and listened and smiled and laughed when it seemed appropriate, and told everyone (in our meager German) how good everything was. Because it was very good!

To Be Continued...

Relief

After four long years, it finally happened.

The inspectors arrived at the house, walked down into the basement, wandered around to view the carnage, and nodded their approval. Forms were signed, stickers were affixed, and it was all over.

Paperwork-wise, anyway.

So it's official. The basement is "done".

==

It's been a mad scramble around here ever since we returned from Texas, trying to get everything into some semblance of order so that the Final Inspections could occur. {Here the word order conveys the idea that all the clutter and daily-living detritus is temporarily removed to the garage so that it magically appears as though no one has actually been living down in the basement over the past couple of years, because technically it has not been approved for such things.} There were still nagging little items which needed to be completed, like the lights and ceiling panels in the closets, and the covers over the electrical junction boxes, and the door which had to be created to provide access to the furnace from the little hallway, and a smoke detector which wasn't working.

Those things were finally completed by July 31st, so that's the day I made the call to the City to have the inspections scheduled. Naturally, all I got was voice mail, so I had til the next day (August 1st) to get a response back. But it was surprisingly easy to get them scheduled for the following week. Tuesday.

Meanwhile, being in the mood to get things done, I called up the tree service people about removing some extraneous vegetation (trees) in our yard, and successfully scheduled them as well, for the following Friday.

So on Tuesday, the inspectors came and, as previously mentioned, approved the basement work; and on Friday, the tree folks came by and chopped down four of our huge trees which were far too close to the house for my comfort level.

Major things have been accomplished.

And there remain so many major things to be done.

Like the front porch, still denuded of planking, skeletal 2x4s open to the weather, now even more so since the trees which formerly protected it from wind and rain and snow have been removed or trimmed back.

And the back deck, which still rots quietly in the sun, waiting to have all its planking replaced.

And the garage, stuffed to the gills with an overflow of possessions which need to be culled.

And the basement, in need of final trim.

And now the school year is upon us as well. Cheryl starts work this week, the prep work for the beginning of term. Classes begin next week. Can it be time for school already? The summer is not yet over!!

Or is it?

My First Programming Experience

Way back in the Dark Ages of Middle School (or did we call it Junior High? I don't remember any more), they had this 'program' for over-eager students (you know the type - always finishing their homework early, always asking for more work because they get bored easily, always finishing tests half an hour before their peers, always being bullied by the other students because they use big words during normal conversation) -- called 'TAG', which stands for "Talented And Gifted" but let's just keep that under our hats, shall we? Because if there is one thing that invites bullying, it's being part of a group of people known around the school as eggheads, nerds, geeks, or whatever it was they called us back then.

[I think it was 'nerds'. Didn't it come from the TV show "Happy Days"?]

Yeah, we weren't proud of our nerd status back then. Once you were known as a nerd, especially if you were a guy, you could count on at least a dozen big athletic types to give you 'friendly' arm punches (or worse) every day. Unless you knew how to all the shortcuts to avoid the main hallways between classes.

It didn't help the situation when in the middle of class the teacher would dismiss the TAG kids so that they could go downstairs to their special room next to the cafeteria, and everyone in the classroom could give you "that look" when you got up to go. Especially the big athletic types who would start rubbing their knuckles in anticipation of dishing out some "nerd handshakes" the next time they caught you outside.

Yeah, Middle School was a dream world.

The best part about TAG was hanging out with really smart kids and doing really cool things. Each year, they let us choose a project to work on, something we could use our creativity on. We could do art, or music, or math, or games, or anything we liked, so long as it was involved with learning.

My best friend, Wayne, was a TAG kid. He was much smarter than me. Mathematical. Musical. For his TAG project (we all got to pick fun projects to work on), he decided to write a musical score. He played the oboe, which was the weirdest instrument in the world because it was kind of like a clarinet, but different. You had to be really smart to play an oboe. Or really weird. Or both. Wayne was both. He and I were always laughing and making jokes. He always called me 'Oscar', as in "Oscar Mayer Hot Dogs". In fact, he called me 'Oscar' so much that I think he forgot my real name.

[Now that I think about it, I don't think he ever called me by my real name in 8th grade. So he was smart and weird and very forgetful. But he was a great friend. Except that he thought computer nerds were really weird.]

My other best friend was a girl named Joy. She was very smart and very cute and very funny, with large bushy hair and a great smile. She and Wayne and I hung out a lot because we liked to laugh and joke around, and because we were all in TAG, too. I can't remember what project she decided on, but since she was very musical, too, it was probably something similar.

I was torn between two projects that year: one was creating a stop-motion film with an 8-millimeter camera; the other was learning BASIC programming. There were several other kids interested in the movie-making project. As I recall, I was the only one interested in learning how to program computers. Oh! What to do? What to do?

It was one of those little choices you make early in your life that has a major effect on the path of your career.  Since I didn't become a movie director, you can probably guess which project I chose.

(Although I did later dabble in creating stop-motion pictures ... but that's another story.)

Back in those days, middle schools couldn't afford real computers because those things were huge monstrosities that filled entire rooms (or at least a very large closet). Instead, we had what was known as a "remote terminal", a glorified tele-typewriter connected to a real computer via a telephone line. It sat against the wall near the door and chattered happily while printing out reams of text across the yellow paper roll. Or while punching confetti holes in the paper tape which stored the computer programs.

Naturally, the TAG teacher didn't have time to spend teaching me about programming; in fact, she was the one who provided the movie camera, so she was going to be busy helping the other kids shoot their movie. And the school didn't have any other teacher who also just happened to be a computer programming expert. Most programmers were already working at big companies like IBM or GE, or for government establishments like NASA or the IRS. Any sane teacher with programming skills would've jumped ship the moment they could, and started earning big bucks rather than trying to teach idiot children how to count on their toes.

So for my project, the TAG teacher found a High School student (I think it was Charles Webb, whom some of you might remember) to come over once or twice a week to teach me. He brought over the BASIC book (the classic text by James S. Coan) and we went through it chapter by chapter until I managed to figure out what I was doing. And he taught me how to program games and math problems and ...

... it was so much FUN!

For the first time in my life, I felt in control. I had written programs that solved problems, that played games, that manipulated data. I had learned that it was actually possible to design a sequence of steps which allowed a machine to accomplish a useful objective. And if you did a good job of it, you could do amazing things! You could simulate a flight to the moon! Or lob a cannonball to its target! Or even play chess!

It was an amazing feeling of power. Of confidence. Of being able to create something that actually worked. It was a mental and emotional high that I had never experienced before. And I was all the more eager to experience again and again and again.

I would never forget those heady days of exploration and discovery. They would help determine the friends I would make and the activities I would participate in throughout my high school and college careers. They would shape and mold my goals and expectations as I decided what to do with my life.

--
In the end, it was a good thing that I didn't decide to go with the movie-making group. After all that work filming (remember that this was in the days when they used real film, and you didn't get to see the results until after you were done and had sent it out to be processed and then received your developed footage), they discovered that they had neglected to use the special close-up macro lens attachment, so the entire movie was out of focus.  I felt very bad for them.

--
The memory and joy of learning BASIC was so strong that, years later, I found a copy of the book I learned it from, and bought it. Silly, I know, but I have many fond memories of those days, and always feel a shadow of that joy when re-reading that book now that I am old and gray-haired.

My First Computer Experience

It's Groundhog Day, and we're all living in a time loop, reliving the past over and over again until we get it right. There's actually quite a few things I'd like to go back and do over again until I get them right. But I don't want to get into that right now or you'll be bored to tears.

So long as I'm living in the past, though, I'll tell you about a story I read a long time ago that had a particularly strong impact on my very young brain.

It was 1970 or '71. I was in 1st or 2nd grade -- I really can't remember which, but thanks to my book-loving parents, like my siblings I was reading at a very high level for someone so young; by 2nd grade, I was in a special 2-person reading group reading at a 6th grade level -- and my teacher had given me a book containing a set of stories (an anthology). I don't recall any of the other stories, probably because they didn't have anything to do with science or technology, and I was completely obsessed with those subjects as a child. But there was this one story that stayed with me.

You have to remember that the story was written in the mid 60s when computers were cabinet-sized monstrosities and filled entire rooms, and were attended by teams of geeks in white lab coats, or white shirts and ties with pocket protectors (the long-haired geeks with the sandals didn't show up til '67 or '68); and the 'users' were business people who typed up punch cards or paper tapes and fed them to the machines like sacrifices and then waited for their 'jobs' to run on the 'queue' so they could then receive their 'printouts' indicating the results they of the program(s) they had run.

In this story, a young school-aged girl whose mother worked in an office somehow managed to finagle access to the computer and used it to do her math homework. Her mother had given her some rudimentary training as part of showing her daughter what she did for a living, and the girl was able to use this knowledge to complete her assignments without much effort, unlike her peers.

Unfortunately, at some point she started getting the wrong answers on her homework, so she brings her mother the homework paper which has been marked up by the teacher (in red ink, I presume) and bemoans the fact that there is obviously something wrong with the computer.

The mother informs her daughter that there is nothing wrong with the computer, but there is something wrong with her understanding of how a computer works.

As her mother explains, it soon became clear that, although the computer may be faster than a human, it is not smarter. It can only do what it is programmed to do, and if you don't know how to ask the question, or you ask the wrong question, you will get the wrong answer.

The takeaway lesson for the young girl -- and the reader -- is that a computer is only a tool, and a tool is only as smart as the person using it.

So, in the end, the girl was properly ashamed that she had taking advantage of this wonderful, space-age tool when none of her peers had the opportunity to do so. As her mother pointed out, it was not fair. And like all good morality tales, the girl admitted her mistake and thereafter determined to learn how to do things herself (manually) before using the computer again.
This was the first time I recall coming to terms with the fact that computers are really nothing more than glorified calculators. It was a far cry from the impression given by all those silly movies we'd seen, like The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes and Desk Set, or in those Science Fiction television shows (e.g. Star Trek, Lost In Space), where computers were magical beings with unlimited knowledge.

It was also the first time I thought perhaps it might be possible to understand how they worked. And maybe even to learn to use them.

This idea would come in very handy in the years to come...

Time (Part II)

The Casio digital Melody watch appeared at the jewelry counter at Miller & Rhoads Department Store in Richmond, Virginia, in 1980.

I worked at Miller & Rhoads way back in the Dark Ages of '79-'81, during my last couple of years in high school. It was a good gig for a high school kid with lots of raw engineering talent, working in the Men's Department at a well-known department store, folding sweaters and button-down Oxfords and helping little old ladies pick out really bad ties for their absent husbands. Lots of time to think about all the electrical circuits I wanted to build, the BASIC programs I wanted to write, the airplanes I wanted to design. When I wasn't measuring for shoes or suits or pretending to know how to match ties. Or chatting with my girlfriend, who worked at the same store (but not always in the same department).

It was a relatively upscale store in the very nice, new (circa 1975) Regency Mall out on the west side of town. There were four main "anchor" stores: Sears, JCPenney, Miller & Rhoads, and Thalhimers, so as might be imagined, the mall was a very happening place. All the kids hung out there. All the best fast food was there. They had a Farrel's Ice Cream parlor! They had an O'Briensteins! They had a Radio Shack!!

And, for the first time in my life, I had money burning a hole in my pocket.

I don't know why I had to have that watch. Watches were not a new concept to me; I'd had a few. Mostly wind-ups, as I recall. Did they even have electric watches before then? I don't know. But they never had the effect of that watch. And it wasn't because of the fact that it played tunes. It was digital. It didn't have hands. You didn't have to perform a mental transformation in your head to correlate the hands with the time of day. You just looked in the little window to the LCD and there it was. The Time. Hours, Minutes, Seconds. Plus the actual date. And you could even set an alarm.

It was so cool. I felt cool wearing it. I felt grown-up. Mature.

And, after a while, afraid.

Because I'd never understood the Passage of Time before.

In the past, of course, I'd seen the little hands on the old analog watches spinning slowly around the face; yet it had never occurred to me that each pulsation of those little pieces of metal was tracking the inevitable growth of entropy, the irreversible disappearance of my life, minute by minute.

For some reason, watching the little digital numerals count up and up and then roll over, along with the date, burned into my soul the concept that a moment had passed in my life that would never occur - could never occur - again. Every second of my life was literally passing before my eyes.

It may have been this period of my life which began my peculiar relationship with Time.

My absolute fear of being late.

Time

What do you feel when looking at your daily calendar?

When the calendar is blank, with nothing written on it, you feel fantastic. Endless possibilities. The day is yours. Peace and tranquility reign.

You can take your time with breakfast, perhaps take a chance on something different (bagel today? or cinnamon toast?);  leisurely scan through the morning news, maybe even look at a few web comics to see what old Dilbert has been up to; wander through the house taking a look at the windows to decide if you need to pull the drapes or curtains open and let a little sunlight in, get a little extra vitamin D; take a little stroll through the garage to see if there is something interesting you forgot to do the night before, like putting away a tool or two, or breaking down some boxes for recycling; then engage the family in some conversation as you are all getting ready for your respective work or educational duties. And then you head off to work with a smile on your face.

It's a wonderful day.

Until.

Email from the boss. He wants to have a status meeting at 11. Can you prepare a quick report on progress?

Now the calendar is no longer blank. There is an event  on it. You feel slightly annoyed. There is a smudge, a stain on your perfect day.

The previously wonderful expanse of emptiness has been marred by an unwanted interruption. Now it must be subdivided into three separate intervals: the Before, the During, and the After. In the Before section, there is an automatic anxiety about the things you must do to prepare for the Event that is scheduled to occur, including the invention of clever ways of explaining your complete and utter lack of progress. In the During section, you'll face the actual interaction with your boss (and peers) where your meaningless gibberish will be tossed about like a virtual pinball into the playing fields of their minds, bouncing up and down and all around, striking bells and buzzers and bumpers and posts and making all manner of noise until it falls into the drain of oblivion and the boss decides whether the score is sufficient to allow your continued employment, or the machine tilts you into the abyss along with the ball; thereafter, upon the conclusion of the meeting, you (hopefully) breathe a sigh of relief and move on with the rest of your day. Which is the After.

But this After has become significantly shorter. And a slight anxiety pinches you in the gut as you realize that the number of hours allotted to the accomplishment of meaning and justification for your existence has been lessened.

But at least the meeting is over. There is now a little bit of time to calm yourself, to relax before launching once again into the maelstrom of productivity.

And then -

A phone call. Or text.

Someone needs you to run an errand. Nothing critical, just a spur-of-the-moment invitation from the gang at the office to go grab a quick bite at the local fast-food establishment; or a quick run to the grocery store to pick up something that has been forgotten at home; or perhaps a call to the doctor to make an appointment about that health issue that's been bothering you; or an item of mail that needs to be sent out before the afternoon pickup (because it's been sitting in the glove compartment of the car for a week).

An errand. At lunchtime.

Lunchtime is not sacrosanct. It is merely an invisible marker in the middle of the day intended to provide a breather, a catch-up, a moment of pause to refresh the mind, the body, the soul. It is normally a time to sit at one's desk and turn away from the business of busy-ness to peruse the Internet, re-connect with the non-commercial aspect of life, read a few essays, check the blogs, finally finish reading that article on The Black Plague you've been from the History website (because that always makes lunch taste so much better!). Perhaps even a time for a little physical refreshment. A quick walk around the building. A few times up and down the stairs to get the blood pumping.

Adding in a little errand won't have a significant effect. It will only require a few minutes. Five. Or ten. Or fifteen. Or twenty. Depending on the distance and complexity of the mission. Five minutes to the car, fifteen minutes on the road, ten minutes on the errand, fifteen minutes back to the office, five minutes up the stairs to the office. Give or take a few minutes here and there. Plenty of time to run out, complete the errand, then return to the office as though nothing happened.

The minutes add up. Suddenly an entire hour has gone by, and then you're back at the office with only half the day left to get anything accomplished.

And the anxiety level creeps up. So much to do, so little time.

But it's OK. You're back in the office, all settled in and ready to resume the work-day and get something done. Relax. Relax. There is still that lovely blank afternoon for accomplishing all those tasks sitting on your plate.

And then...

This guy appears at your desk. Mike. He's having difficulty with an assignment. You're not surprised. He's a nice enough person. Young, a little inexperienced, but fun to talk to, eager as a beaver, fresh and fun and full of ... dare I say it? ... naïveté. He is not going to figure this one out on his own.

He needs help. From you.

Not right now. You've got some of your own stuff to finish up. Can we get together in a little while? Say, at 2 pm? That should give you enough time to lock down the task you're working on so you'll be able to pick it up afterward.

How long will this session with Mike take? No idea. Better plan for at least an hour. You'll have to dredge some thing out of your memory banks.

This day is getting a bit more broken up now than anticipated. You have a little less than an hour before the meeting with Mike, but in that time, you'll need to do a bit of research, refresh your memory on what he is working on and what information he'll need from you. And you'll need to figure out the best way to present it.

Because he might not get it at first. He's a kid in his twenties who knows everything (because he's been to college and he's been working for a couple years in the industry) and you're an old fuddy-duddy who's over the hill, still stuck in the days of DOS, who can't possibly understand all these new-fangled programming techniques. Oh, he knows you've been around, he knows you've got a lot of experience, he knows you know a lot of things - but part of the reason he can't figure this out for himself is because he just doesn't have the long-range perspective of a person in your (very old) shoes.

So you can't just stroll over to his desk and explain it like you're talking to an idiot. Because he's not an idiot. He's -- well, he's like you were, way back in 1985. Young, full of yourself, eager to make your way in the industry, looking around at all these old gray-haired fossils and wondering when they were going to get out of my way so you could really show them what's what.

So you take some time to prepare yourself for the meeting with Mike. You don't just wing it. You want it to go smoothly.

But it's hard. Because that anxiety level has crept up again. Time is ticking. Precious time.

So you meet. And you talk. For quite a while. And he finally gets it. Mostly. And you both go away happy.

Until you get back to your desk and see the note left on it. The boss wants to talk about the schedule. Something has changed. The customer is getting antsy, or the vendors are delayed getting the new parts to the lab, or the subcontractors have run into a problem and won't be able to start testing on time. Either way, things are going to need some adjusting, and you're going to need to have all the information right at your fingertips. Which means doing some serious research before the meeting.

At 4.

There goes the rest of the afternoon.

And the blood pressure.

Goes.

Up.

Anxiety.

Builds.

And sometimes things start to really stack up.

Your wife needs you home by 6 for dinner because (as she reminds you) the Association meeting is tonight at 7 and they'll be voting on that green belt proposal you were so hot about last month.

The kids have a concert at 8 and you promised them you'd be there.

You promised your wife you'd get to bed on time tonight so you wouldn't be so cranky in the morning.

And now you look at your schedule, and this is what you see:

The day is completely filled up. There is no time. There is no rest. No relaxation.

No chance to hide away from the world, to shrink into a corner and get away from the constant over-stimulation of life, no opportunity to find a quiet corner to sit and think and just be.

* * *

Now imagine that every day is like that. Full of things that need to be done. Full of tasks that must be accomplished. One after another, stacked on top of each other, from now on to infinity.

The world is overwhelming. It's always on. Full blast. Noisy. People talking, people gesturing, people needing. Expecting action from you. Expecting solutions from you. Expecting miracles from you.

Is it any wonder that that you struggle with high blood pressure? With anxiety? With headaches?

No. It's a wonder you can function at all.

There are some people who thrive on this kind of lifestyle. Stress, pressure, adrenaline rush - they crave it like some people crave sugar. They actually work better when under pressure. These are the Type A personalities. They're the same kind of people who get a thrill out of climbing mountains, jumping out of airplanes, leading expeditions to Antarctica.

Then there are those of us on the opposite end of the spectrum who thrill to a good book, a warm fire, a hot cup of tea, and a day with absolutely nothing on the schedule. Who see a large, boisterous crowd of people watching a football game and head in the other direction. Who can't for the life of us understand the attraction of parties and bars and rock'n'roll concerts.

Who get completely stressed out when looking at a full calendar.

But -- I hear you say -- that calendar isn't even close to being full! There are gaps all over the place! There's plenty of time to rest, to relax, to contemplate.

Yes, it is true that there are gaps in the calendar, moments here and there between scheduled events in which it might be possible -- for some -- to relax, to kick back, to think, to plan, to dream. But for some of us, the mere fact that there are other things, other events which are due to occur very soon completely negate any possibility for relaxation in-between them. Those gaps are filled with anxiety and worry and panic about the upcoming events: will I be ready? will I be late? will I have enough time to prepare? will I embarrass myself in front of everyone? will I lose my job?

[Part 1 of 2]