Blog

I’m feeling my age, 1/2/09:
Today, I feel my age. I may be 50, I may look 50, but I usually don’t feel it. And in my mind, I still see myself around my mid-30s. You know, long brown hair, about 20 lbs. lighter, no bifocals.

Winter makes me feel old. If I stop moving, walking, exercising, I start to ache. Really ache. I know I need to keep moving, but life has a way of interfering with my plans. When I continue to walk, I have less pain. But cold weather makes me want to cocoon. That and a good book!

For the last three nights, I have taken a new pain pill for my arthritis. It’s another one of those “I’ve never heard of that one” pills that the doctor prescribed. All three nights, I slept like a rock. Each afternoon, I slept like a rock. It leaves me too groggy. Guess I’ll save that one for the bad nights.

Never have I become more convinced that I have to keep moving. I’m fairly ambitious in other aspects of my life. But now I have to resist the temptation to curl up on the couch with a good book.

Please pray for Jim, 1/8/09:
My brother-in-law has been struggling to recover from colon cancer surgery. First time home from the hospital, he was home long enough to take a nap. Second time, he made it more than a week. In addition to healing from the initial surgery, he had a drain installed at the site of an abscess near the patch in his colon, and an ileostomy to give his digestive system a rest.

OK, so his digestive system rests, but he’s got to be vigilant about emptying the bag, cleaning the wound on his chest and replacing the bag. Tough go for a 50+ guy who has spent the last few months working out to lose weight and to try to get healthier.

If you love your life (and your wife), get a colonoscopy. Yes, Jim’s struggling to regain his health. But at least they found the cancer. His lymph nodes were clear, so hopefully they got it all.

I’m usually reticent about sharing my faith, but if there’s any chance praying works, I figure it’s worth a try. Right now, Jim needs all the help he can get.

McDonalds McCafe vs Starbucks, 12/9/08:
Starbucks has nothing to worry about. I tried a McDonalds latte. Yuck. Some adolescent twinkie pushed a button, and three streams of questionable liquid poured into a cup. Made me wonder how long the milk sat in that machine, warmed up to make an instant latte. My guess is it’s ultra-pasteurized milk, which I don’t like. Lacked that distinctive latte flavor. Not sure what I was drinking.

I love a latte. Starbucks coffee is too strong to drink black anyway. I prefer not to sully the lovely taste of coffee with sweeteners or creamer. Milk is okay, but I’d rather it was more milk and stronger coffee – ta dah! It’s a latte!

For those folks lucky enough to live in Lynchburg, VA, there’s always Joe Beans Coffee. Great stuff! Right now, my favorite is a Butter Rum Lifesaver latte (with half the flavoring). Joe Beans is a little kiosk on Timberlake Road outside the Big Lots, or on Route 29 past the airport.Yum!

End of a job, 11/23/08:
I had a five- to eight-week contract job coordinating a multi-million-dollar proposal for a multinational corporation. Interestingly, I got the job on the basis of an unsolicited resume. I had no idea that the company I was sending my resume to represented the larger company. Sometimes these things pan out.

Well, I was a little overwhelmed by the amount of new information. I’d never worked in that industry before, but I’ve taken many jobs before as a technical writer in various technologies (e.g., cellular telephone base stations and test equipment, a telephony modem, a power submeasurement device, manufacturing devices, etc.). My immediate superior was someone I knew from my “day job.” He fed me lots of things to read and learn, which I did.

Once I hit my stride and felt comfortable in that position, emailing and calling various principals to fill in blanks and correct errors, the money ran out. With two and a half weeks left before the proposal deadline, I was let go.

I’d always wanted to learn how to do proposals – there are postings all the time asking for someone to help. But you have to have experience. My biggest regret was not putting that baby to bed.

And just in case, I bring my notebook with me to my “day job.” They’ve called me once. Funny thing is, it took two people to replace me.

I just hope I get the chance to carry a proposal from start to finish some day. It was hard work, but also exhilarating. At least I now have Christmas money . . .

John McCain follows in Robert Dole’s footsteps, 10/16/08:
There was a chance I was going to vote for Robert Dole in 1996. He was more experienced, older, had served in the war. After all, Bill Clinton was only a young governor. Of the small, backwoods state of Arkansas, no less! Dole was a bit of a renegade. Not quite lockstep with conservative Republicans. Precisely why I considered voting for him. As the election neared, his tune changed. He started spouting what he was supposed to spout. No longer did his ideas and programs sound like his own. They went right along with the conservative Republican Party dogma. Just as McCain has done.

McCain was the Maverick, the one who palled around with journalists, bucked tradition, and fought against waste and corruption in government. He won the Republican primary in spite of himself. Now he and his lightweight veep choice are off limits to the press. He’s starting to sound like the far-right conservative Republicans he fought with all these years. And he denies that he’s changed his tune. Like a good, little boy, he’s not straying from the Republican message. But it seems many Americans are tired of that message.

Scrabulous is gone, 9-26-08:
I can’t believe Scrabulous is gone. The website says they’re on a coffee break. I think this is the end, as do many of my friends. I am an addict; I admit it. I’ve had to switch tabs to hide a board from my boss. I love to play it; sneak in a move or two while at work. I've spent hours playing as many as eight games at a time.

When Scrabulous pulled out of North America earlier this summer, I was going through withdrawal. I tried to find someone to play with on the chat-like rooms, but no one took the bait. I couldn’t find anyone to play on Scrabble Beta. Then some overseas friends said I could play Scrabulous via email. Allelujah! I could play again, but I had to wait until others made their moves. No more hour-long, one-sitting games.

Now they’re on a “coffee break.” Looks like the giant Hasbro has finally killed the little guy.

Sarah Palin's glasses, 9/19/08:
Much has been made of Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin’s glasses, created by Japanese designer Kazuo Kawasaki. Demand for the spectacles are so strong, if you want them, you’ll have to wait a couple of months.

I’m just glad she’s wearing glasses. I, myself, am bespecled. One of the few who refused laser-correction surgery (don’t touch my eyes). I can’t bear the thought of wearing contacts.

Over the years, I’ve watched glasses fall off the face of celebrity earth. Just when you get used to a news anchor or weatherman with glasses, some stylist comes along and says, “ditch the glasses.” What about all of us geeks who still wear glasses? Nay, even like wearing glasses (keeps the wind off my eyes, makes a great place to hang clip-on sunglasses)?

I may not agree with her politically, but I’m glad to see a woman in such a public position still wearing glasses. Her Kawasaki 704 series frames cost $375. Just the frames. Tack on lenses, lens treatments, etc., and the cost is prohibitive for the average eyeglass-wearer. So she had a choice. Cost wasn’t the issue. She chose to wear glasses. Good for her!

Now, I understand my mother's pain, 8/5/08:
Arthritis wracked my mother's body the last few years of her life. She frequently winced; often made a sound with a sharp intake of air. Within a year of her death, I was diagnosed with arthritis. Last winter, sitting for any length of time, or standing for any length of time, was excruciatingly painful. Moving, I was fine. Dancing, oddly enough, I was fine. The pain in my hips made sleeping difficult.

I tried numerous analgesics, with little effect. The pain in my right thumb made holding a bow painful; the pressure required to press the strings of my cello made my left hand cramp. My doctor prescribed yet another pain killer, but it was late spring. With the warmth came welcome relief from the pain. But I worry about the coming cold weather. I'm only 50 now. I don't want to think about how much pain I might be in when I reach my 70s. Now I understand.

Household use of a pressure washer, 7/19/08:
Boy, I wish I could use the pressure washer on my wood floors. Sure would make housework fun. And fast. Beats dragging a sloppy bucket and unwieldy mop around. The pressure washer did such a nice job on the brick walkway and the algae-covered back deck. Would do wonders on my dirt-covered, kitty-puke-mottled wood floors.

The pressure washer would take all the grit out from between the not-so-flush floorboards. 'Course, it would leave the house rather damp. Kinda like when the feeder hose on the toilet leaked. And moving the puddles around would be difficult. The water just ran off the walkway and deck. Thresholds are meant to keep the water out.

Love of writing, 6/14/08:
I have a love of the written word that is shared by so few. When I was a child, I thought, how come there are always new melodies? How many possible combinations could there be in music? As a musician, I understand. As a writer, I understand that if you give five writers the same assignment, you’ll get five different approaches to the same topic.

In technical writing, which you would think is an exacting discipline, you still get differences. I have a degree in English. My former partner has a degree in electrical engineering. Another employee had a degree in math. Each of us had something to offer each project we approached.

In talking to an associate recently, we marveled at how much fun manufacturing instructions can be to write. In my first assignment (for ISO 9000 compliance), I got to take a box apart, writing the instructions as I disassembled it. As I reassembled it, I just reversed my instructions. Sort of like trying to find your way home after following directions that only brought you to the party, not how to get home (let’s see, if it was a left coming here, it’s a right going the other way).

Remembering Mom, 6/5/08 :
Well, I got hit with the brick I’ve been expecting all week. I think of Mom pretty much on a daily basis. Of things I miss, like highest score on the handheld Scrabble game we both have, the little magazine clippings she’d send, the odd emails warning about hoaxes.

Mother’s Day was hard. For the first time, I had no one to send flowers to. Every year, I would send flowers out to both mothers. So I sent them to Pan for her birthday, instead.

The anniversary of Mom’s death came and went. I was aware of it, but it had little impact. Until tonight. I took Stanley out for his nightly walk. At the end of the driveway, the big dipper showed through the hole in the trees. I remember last year, after Mom died, spending many nights sitting at the end of the driveway with Stanley, looking at the big dipper; watching it crawl by, month after month, as I sat at the end of the driveway. Tonight was the first night it showed; we’ve had nothing but rain for days.