Pondering Changes and Seeking Counsel

I have worked for the same company for most of my adult life, and really like the organization. I have typically changed job functions internally every 2-4 years as I get bored sitting in the same chair doing the same thing.

Now I am thinking about moving. I live in a smaller metro area, but the largest in my state. As I look internally the most opportunities for advancement and challenge are westward, in one of the top 5 largest metro markets in the country, a big change. Opportunities in my career field outside of my present employer aren't readily available in my current market, and so any change would likely result in moving to another (probably larger) metro area.

I ask this question of the interweb: how much consideration should I give to Little One as I think about career planning? I have had some passing conversations about having to move for work, and she wasn't too excited. I know that legally I would have to run some traps with the EW and that could get sticky.

But setting aside the issue of ensuring Little One gets to see her mother on a regular basis (and I know this is the largest consideration in all of the discussion), what advice might you offer about disrupting her life in this corner of the Deep South? Should I sacrifice personal and professional opportunity for the next 6 years until she has completed her school years and is (hopefully) off to college or the Marine Corps?

I moved frequently growing up, and at times I was not pleased with being uprooted and I was certainly apprehensive each time I had to start anew at a school. I did understand that in order for my dad's career to be furthered and for him to be fulfilled professionally (and personally) that he needed to move.

So, returning to moving Little One away from her mother. I know this would be stressful for all parties, but not an insurmountable problem. It would be a challenge logistically, but one that Southwest, Delta or Continental could help solve.

Is thinking about my career path when I have a child in the house being selfish?

The Circle of Life and all that Nonsense

This weekend saw a lot of activity in the Life o' Jud. I took Friday off and drove to SC. My nephew just got a teaching gig at a small university there, and his sweetie was flying down from here teaching gig in Vermont and I hadn't met her (as it turns out I still haven't. Silly airline.)

I met my nephew at his grandparent's home. His grandfather had been put on hospice on Monday, but when I arrived, he seemed to be as spry as normal. We sat in the parlor and chatted for while. I saw some of my nephew's aunts that I hadn't seen in ages, and it was nice to catch up. After about 1/2 hour I took my leave, and headed out to dinner. The grandfather would pass on Sunday afternoon.

On Saturday, Little One's sole female cousin had her first child, a little girl. The infant had some minor complication that kept her in the NICU for a couple of nights, but the word is they are coming home today. I didn't get to see the baby, but met the EW and her partner in northern GA to pick up Little One and bring her home.

I love driving, but dislike most interstates. I had the chance to drive on Highway 129 from Madison, GA (off of I-20) through Athens and up to Jefferson  where I caught I-85. Highway 129 is a fun little stretch of road and a number of nice older home, especially in Madison. I should have taken a detour to Watkinsville to poke around, but was worried about being late. The EW was 2 hours late, so I would have had the time.

The drive through Atlanta wasn't too thrilling, apart from the normal excitement of driving at 75 in six lanes of moderate traffic. I drove through downtown, past Georgia Tech and The Varsity. Too bad we didn't have time to stop for a hot dog and some onion rings.

So, one birth and one death this weekend. Seeing the excitement that comes with the birth of a new child, the memories it brings back to those family members who have kids and recall those crazy days and nights with a newborn was tempered with spending time with a family who was preparing to say goodbye to their patriarch. An emotional weekend.

On a completely inane note, my Fantasy Football team won their first game. Quite a bit of nonsense, really.

I Guess this is Growing Up

Labor Day weekend came and went without much worthy of note. The same cannot be said of the prior weekend, when Little One crossed over into womanhood.

It is a strange moment in the life of a dad. I cannot imagine what it was like for her, and I have heard various tales from female friends about what it was like for them, from something that was celebrated to something that had never been discussed by parents and came as a complete shock.

We were at home, so any potentially embarrassing moments at school were avoided, thankfully. I quickly went to the store for the purchase of supplies, and Little One spent a good deal of the afternoon on the phone with her mom discussing all sorts of matters concerning the change, hygiene, etc.

After things had calmed down a bit, I took my Little One out to celebrate and to chat. I had a fairly clinical discussion with her, and then we ate some comfort food and some ice cream. She was fairly mortified to have the talk again with dad, but these are conversations that need to be had.

We both grew up a little, I think.

Back to School Shopping

Ah, the beginning of a new school year. Little One will begin the 7th grade on Monday. I dread all back to school shopping that is related to buying her clothes. There are several reasons for this, most of them are related to the following issues:

• she doesn't know what she wants
• she knows what she wants, but the clothes are inappropriate
• she doesn't like shopping with either of her parents
• she doesn't know what she wants (yes, it is worthy of being listed twice)

Her mother (the EW) and I share some of the blame. The EW is a casual dresser. The EW like jeans and t-shirts or jeans and golf shirts. I like to think that I have a good sense of style for my work attire, but my casual clothes range from the absurd to the adequate. I gave the EW money for her to take Little One shopping. I am fairly certain it was a fiasco, with few if any garments purchased and a lot of frustration all the way around.

I will now have to head to the halls of retail commerce with Little One to pick out clothes. My plan, though, is to have my Little One go shopping with a female co-worker and her daughter. This plan is also fraught with peril. Although my co-worker and her daughter dress very well and always look smart, they also tend to shop at boutiques and not typical retail shops. It will be an expensive proposition.

Tonight, though, I get to do the FUN part of school shopping. Tonight Little One and I are off to purchase pencils, binders, paper, markers and similar stuff. I am a bit of supply snob, truth be told. I don't like using cheap pens. I don't like writing on cheap paper. My daughter, thankfully, is less choosy about these items and we can follow her supply list to the letter. I am sure I will add to my collection of Moleskin journals and also find some more nice pens that I just can't live without.

Speaking of pens, I have a fondness for fountain pens. I have some really cheap ones and some rather nice ones. I have dip pens, pens with manual fill reservoirs and cartridge pens. I also like roller ball pens, and have these at various levels of aesthetic, too. I have been fooled at times, and purchased a nice looking pen online, only to learn when it is delivered that it wrote poorly, or felt too flimsy in my hand, or the barrel was too heavy, or the cap mechanism was of poor design. I have no patience with ballpoint pens. I don't think that they write smoothly and the quality of ink is often suspect.

Wish me luck with the Little One.

Personalized Tags

I have had customized license plates in the past. Once, when I was a regional manager a restaurant company known as "Wings", my tag read "WINGNIT".

I bought a tag for the woman to whom I was married that read "4X4AU". There were for of us in the family, and she was a big fan of Auburn University football. Collegiate sports tags are VERY popular in the Deep South.

On a recent road trip I saw a woman in Chevy Tahoe on big ol' tires and rims, with that tag "IMTHSHT". I am not sure how this one made it passed the censors at the DMV, but good for her.

But now I will ask you to bear with me as I ask you, gentle reader, to abbreviate the following words:

1) hourly
2) girl

In my mind, this would be HRLYGRL. I saw this self-same tag on the back of a Camaro driven by an attractive woman. I did a double take, thinking why advertise in this manner and business must be pretty good. It only dawned on frontal lobes some time later, when passing a motorcycle dealership, that perhaps she was abbreviating "Harley Girl".

Currently I have just a plain tag on the car. I suppose in my middle ages I have become a little cheap and perhaps slightly (ever so slightly) less vain. Maybe I just haven't come up with a witty, hard to misinterpret tag. In my state, a generic customized tag can have up 7 characters and a specialty tag (such as for with an affiliation with a college, charity, etc.) can have up to 5 characters. What ideas might you have for a customized tag for Jud?

Well, Dang

It is unwise for me to wander into a large, second-hand bookseller after a few beers. I walk out with a lot of books, many of which in the cold light of the morning I cannot recall why I found them interesting enough to purchase.

How I Spent My Summer Vacation, part 44.7

I enjoyed a 4-day holiday weekend. I had been initially undecided how to spend my time, although I new a road trip would occur, and that trip would likely keep me in the Deep South. I loaded a bag, through it into the fully fueled car and headed out.

I found myself once again in South Carolina, and decided that in the spirit of the holiday, I would seek out some of the revolutionary spirit. I got off the interstates and took to the back roads.

My first stop of note was at a roadside historical marker deep in the Sumter National Forest. It told of Otterson's Fort, a stone structure from the 18th century that had stood on the Tyger River. I was intrigued. I backtracked of the main road and found another road that led to a boat ramp a little closer to where the fort is reported to have been. The river, a small affair by river standards, was swollen with rain, so attempting to wade or swim it to find what may remain of the structure seemed like a fool's errand. I walked around a bit, enjoying the light through the trees, the smell of the forest, and the sounds of the river running its course.

A short time later I was on my again, headed north. There were a couple of tantalizing road signs ahead, but I wanted to try to reach Cowpens before it closed. I stopped in the early afternoon to pick some blackberries on the entry road to some shuttered manufacturing facility. Both blackberry patches and shuttered businesses were a common sight on my journey.

As I was walking back to my car, I thought I saw something on my right rear tire. I got down into the gravel to get a better look (my car sits low to the ground and can be hard to look at the tread) and what I saw surprised me: the steel fibers were showing through. I let out a sigh. At least I was on back roads and not on the interstate where I might have a blow out at high speed. The downsides were plenty. I was in the middle of nowhere with negligible cell coverage. I was unlikely to be near a merchant who would carry my funky sized tires. I knew it would cost a pretty penny for tires.

I got back on the road, limping along, knowing I was driving on borrowed time. Soon I was in Spartanburg, and used my cell phone to locate a tire dealer and a hotel nearby. I found such a combo, a Firestone near a Holiday Inn Express. Fortune must have taken pity on me, as the room I booked was the last one they had. They turned away three of four families with small children while I was checking in. Maybe I should have been generous and given up my room. Uh, no.

I unloaded some of things and checked out the room. The clerk had told me it had recently been refurnished, and the desk and such were nice. But it was a smoking room, and smelled like it. I thought for a second about going to buy a pack of Camels or buy a pipe and some loose tobacco to take advantage of my smoking room, but then I remembered I am not a smoker.

I wandered down the street to a Panera Bread and had a soup and sandwich combo, neither of which were particularly tasty. But I wanted to be near people, and eavesdrop on their conversations as solo diners often do. I surfed the net on my iPad while I slurped my cold soup and and my bland chicken salad sandwich.

Bright and early on Saturday I rose, partook of the forgettable hotel breakfast, and then called the tire shop. They opened at 0700, and I had hopes that I could get in and out and be on my way. Nope. They didn't have the tires I needed, and the clerk told me he didn't think that the warehouse would open that day, either. He didn't offer much hope for any other shop in the town would have them either. I began calling shops in nearby Greenville, which is a larger town. I called the Goodyear store and the manager there said he  could get the tires for me that day. He offered me some choices, but the prices were steep. He must have needed the business or he might have been a good guy but he cut me a sweet deal on a set of four tires.

I checked out of the hotel and drove cautiously to the tire shop. It was about 1100, and as it would take a bit to get the tires installed, so I asked the manager, Matt, what I could to do to kill the time while I waited. Matt suggested that I grab a bite at the Turtle Shell, a little restaurant around the corner. I took his advice. I was the only person in the joint or than the waiter. Well, there may have been a cook or two in the back, but not anyone else that I could see. I ordered and read a book.

After about an hour I meandered back to the tire store and they hadn't quite finished, but I could see that it wouldn't be much longer. Soon enough, the work was done. I paid the bill and was on my way, headed to Cowpens National Historic Site.

The sun was shining, which was not the status quo for a lot of my trip. I lowered the convertible top, and secure in the knowledge that my tires would not fail me at an inopportune moment, I goosed the throttle on the interstate in a bid to make up some of the time I had lost to vehicular maintenance.

The park was easy enough to find. I was surprised to be greeted near the entrance by a uniformed soldier. He was about my age, and he was directing traffic. The parking lot was near capacity, and he directed me to the next soldier who pointed me to a parking place. The park had an abnormally high number of visitors that day because they had a living history display and a concert planned.

I watched the folks dressed up as Continental soldiers and militia fire their muskets and even a small field piece. I next went to the visitor's center and picked up some of the literature about Cowpens, and then headed out to the trail. On the lawn behind the center sat a large pavilion tent, under which sat a band. A program soon began, with the presentation of the colors by more soldiers (all members of the South Carolina National Guard). Small children took turns reading the Declaration of Independence. I especially enjoyed that part of the event. When the children had finished, the band began to play a variety of patriotic tunes. I listened to a couple of them and then headed out to see the park.

The battlefield itself was fairly small. The battle was fought in a clearing in January of 1781. I followed the walking trail that was sprinkled with markers that told the story of the battle, the leaders, the disposition of the troops and the flow of the engagement. I took my time, trying my best to envision what had occurred on this little spot of ground. My thoughts turned to some of my friends who are or were in various branches of the service and how I wished they were to more fully explain the advantages of the terrain and discuss why the lines of battle were formed as they were and how the battle progressed. The two that leapt to mind were The Colonel and Len Neal. The Colonel and I went to college together, and is quite well read on military history and well practiced with the disposition of troops. Len is different character altogether, but he has a keen mind and the ability to tell you what the folks on the ground were probably thinking and how combat really is. Len is also an expert on small arms, and his knowledge would have been welcome to explain how the technology of the day helped shape events in the field.

I bought some postcards and other trinkets at the visitor's center on my way out of the park. I then headed out towards Kings's Mountain. I had to jump on the interstate for a bit, which, as usual, was fairly unremarkable. Interstates do a wonderful job of facilitating the movement of people and goods, but they are fairly sterile affairs. Most exits on an interstate are equally bland. I prefer the older highways and county roads.

I arrived at King's Mountain late in the day. So late, in fact, that I wouldn't be able to really see the park and hike the 1.5 mile trail. I had about enough time to catch the last showing of the film describing the events that led to and resulted from the battle here. As the film was nearing its conclusion, a young ranger walked in and asked, "Is anyone here driving a convertible?" I said yes and stood. He looked at me and said, "Well, it's raining."

That was a bit of an understatement. The skies had opened. I ran (jogged) the 100 meters or so to my car, sat in a soggy seat and every so slow put up the convertible top and raised the windows. No sense in going back, as the park was closing in about 10 minutes. I popped the frunk and grabbed some of my previously worn clothes from my backpack and proceeded to mop up some of the water in the car from the seats, dash, and door panels. As the windows inside the car began to fog, I drove out of the park, down the mountain, and turned the wheels toward home.

Not a bad way to spend the holiday, and I definitely will be going back to see more of the gorgeous South Carolina countryside and to learn more about its historic past.