Gearing up for the Season of Christmas Parties

So, one of the invites for a holiday reads "Semi-Formal or Christmas Attire". I need some help from the interwebs in determining what this might mean.

Here are some options:

 or

or

For a Friday, it Really Sucked

Fridays are supposed to be good days. The excitement of the pending weekend, the relaxed atmosphere of the office, the relaxed dress code, and perhaps even a longer lunch break. Mine should have been even a little better.

Having concluded a week-long seminar in the Lone Star State, I was headed back to the Deep South. I was at the airport, having made it through security without any hiccups. My boss had asked me to call in to discuss some changes to the plan for 2014, so I gave him a ring.

It was not a great call. That morning a number of staff cuts had been made, including one of my staff. She had been reporting to me officially for a couple of months, but in the HR system was still a direct to my boss. He had called her that morning and broke the news to her. I finished my call with him and called her. She was still in shock and still crying, some 5 hours after she first got the news.

I had nothing new to offer, other than empathy and the promise to do what I could in terms of leveraging my network and assisting her with her resume.

I am hoping that this week will be better. Friday, I expect more out of you, frankly.

Notes from Austin

"I wish I was in Austin 
In the Chili Parlour Bar 
Drinkin' Mad Dog Margaritas 
And not carin' where you are" - Guy Clark, Dublin Blues

Work recently took to me Austin, where I spent some time in classrooms on the UT campus. Sadly, news that it was fall had not quite arrived locally, despite the crush of students wandering the streets and filling the local eateries at the noon hour. It was still hot.

I did visit the joint mentioned in the song, and found that the quality of the food exceeded my expectations. The chili was spicy and beefy, with no beans to be seen and certainly none of the extraneous bits of pasta that some people north of Gawd's country occasionally require in their bastardization of the dish.  I avoided the margaritas, as I have never really developed a taste for them. A Shiner Bock (or several) served as my liquid refreshment. 

I went twice, once with a local who has been a long-time friend and once blogger buddy who has since left this channel of communication. The next trip was with a co-worker, a more sullen and quiet person. Kind of a downer, honestly, and certainly a stark contrast to the bubbly personality of my local friend who is doing her damnedest to "keep Austin weird."

I saw too little of the town for my taste, and it is doubtful that I will be afforded much of an opportunity to see more of it when I return next month  for another week of work. 

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.

News from the Road

The holiday road trip has been dogged by rain. Lots of rain. I didn't visit any of the sports on my list today, but did find a couple of neat gems hidden along the back roads of South Carolina.

At one stop, as I picked blackberries for a late afternoon snack during a break in the rain, I though I saw something one of the rear tires of my car. It turns out that is was steel tread that had worked its ways through.

The good news is that I didn't have a blowout while on the interstate. The bad news is several fold. I was in the middle of nowhere, beyond even a hint of cell coverage. I had to detour to Spartanburg, which is a lovely town. The tire shops were closed when I limped in, though. I did find a hotel down the street from a chain tire store that says they open at 0700.

I would imagine that they will bend me over and spank for the tire, if they even have it in stuck. I hope that it doesn't take all day, either. If it takes more than 2 hours and I have to pay out of an orifice yet to be determined, well that would just be a damn shame.

I hope that I have no further updates from the road, as one on my personal goals for this trip was to try to stay off the grid.

Remembering 3 July 1863

One hundred and fifty years ago today, what is known as the "high water mark of the Confederacy" occurred. The war was not yet decided, although the odds of a Southern victory were slight. But there was a chance. A large, seasoned, well-led Confederate army had invaded Pennsylvania. After a day of bloody fighting, the dawn arose on the 3rd of July and Lee decided to take a huge risk at Gettysburg.

It was by all accounts, a failure, like the notion of the Confederacy itself. Although I was not born in the South, and some of my neighbors and relations may not consider me to a true Southerner, my roots are here. My great-great-grandfather fought in the Civil War and wore gray, but he wasn't at Gettysburg. 

I have no sympathy to the overall Confederate cause, which was the preservation of the institution of slavery. I do understand the romantic notions that many Southerners feel for the Old South, however distorted those images may be. Some prefer to remember slavery as a benign institution - nothing could be further from the truth. I am sure that there are some hardcore racists who wished that the institution remained intact to this day. I would suppose that many of the soldiers who took up arms for the South had no greater understanding of some of the forces at play than do soldiers today, who fight because of dreams of glory and adventure, or they follow a flag, or fight for their country, or in the case of the Civil War, for their state, and their home.

William Faulkner wrote a bit about Gettysburg and the emotions and thoughts that it stirs in the minds of many of us.

For every Southern boy fourteen years old, not once but whenever he wants it, there is the instant when it’s still not yet two o’clock on that July afternoon in 1863, the brigades are in position behind the rail fence, the guns are laid and ready in the woods and the furled flags are already loosened to break out and Pickett himself with his long oiled ringlets and his hat in one hand probably and his sword in the other looking up the hill waiting for Longstreet to give the word and it’s all in the balance, it hasn’t happened yet, it hasn’t even begun yet, it not only hasn’t begun yet but there is still time for it not to begin against that position and those circumstances which made more men than Garnett and Kemper and Armistead and Wilcox look grave yet it’s going to begin, we all know that, we have come too far with too much at stake and that moment doesn’t need even a fourteen-year-old boy to think This time. Maybe this time with all this much to lose and all this much to gain: Pennsylvania, Maryland, the world, the golden dome of Washington itself to crown with desperate and unbelievable victory the desperate gamble, the cast made two years ago….

The charge, of course, ensured the loss of the battle by the Confederates. Estimates place the number that made the charge over 12,000. Casualties were in the neighborhood of 50%, and Pickett's command was shattered.

The war would drag on for almost 2 more years until at last the forces of the Union prevailed. But on this day I can see through the eyes of that 14 year old boy, and I am there, enjoying the shade of the trees as I gaze across the field and up the hill, knowing the challenge before me. I have been to Gettysburg numerous times. I have walked across the field. For me it is truly a hallowed place.

Lovely Agnes

My father had this album back in the day, and I may still have a cassette copy of it somewhere. Sally Rogers has such a lovely voice, and used to play the autoharp and/or dulcimer to this song. I think I will buy a copy of the album "The Unclaimed Pint" on Amazon which features this song.
LOVELY AGNES(Sally Rogers c. 1980)
Oh Agnes, won't you go with me? We'll be married in styleAnd we'll cross Lake Michigan, so blue and so wide,We'll cross over Lake Michigan, 'til we come to the shore,And our orchards will blossom for our babies as they're born.
Oh yes, love I will go with you, leave Wisconsin behindThough my parents think little of my life on a farm,For to leave the gay city life, and be buried on a farm,But I'll watch the orchards bloom in spring,Spend the winter's warm in your arms.
Oh Agnes, won't you go with me? We'll be married in styleAnd we'll cross Lake Michigan, so blue and so wide,We'll cross over Lake Michigan, 'til we come to the shore,And our orchards will blossom for our babies as they're born
Three children she gave to him, Curtis, Addie and DeeAnd their fourth child little Gussie came, ten years after these.And she raised them with loving hand and with firmness of mindAnd she raised them through troubled times, Agnes strongwilled and kind.
Oh Agnes, won't you go with me? We'll be married in styleAnd we'll cross Lake Michigan, so blue and so wide,We'll cross over Lake Michigan, 'til we come to the shore,And our orchards will blossom for our babies as they're born
Now the years have gone and past, like the fruit on the trees,And your children have children with babes on their kneesAnd they all join in the summertime, by the crystal lake shore,To greet lovely Agnes, now 12 years and four-score.
Oh Agnes, won't you go with me? We'll be married in styleAnd we'll cross Lake Michigan, so blue and so wide,We'll cross over Lake Michigan, 'til we come to the shore,And our orchards will blossom for our babies as they're born

written for Sally's grandmother Agnes' 92 b-day.Copyright Sally Rogers 1982recorded by Sally on Unclaimed Pint

Read more: ROGERS SALLY - LOVELY AGNES LYRICS 

Bare Trees, Grey Light

Well, the trees aren't bare this time of year, but the song is fitting given that this has been a week of loss. A dear friend and her family have lost their matriarch. I lost a colleague.

My friend lost her grandmother, who had reached the remarkable age of 99. Even though her advanced years were a signal that her remaining days couldn't have numbered too many, it is still an incredible loss and a shock. From my friend's pictures, her grandmother was in many, smiling, with the assemblage of children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. If memory serves there are some great-greats running or toddling about in nappies, too.

My own grandmother lived well into her 90s, but she had ceased being the grand dame of the family in her late 70s when Alzheimers stripped her of her faculties and she was but a shell of the woman she had been for  so many years. I will admit that when my grandmother passed there was more a sense of relief, as I know that she would not wanted to have lived in a reduced capacity and relied on the constant care of others.

My family is neither as large nor as close as my friend's. The funeral for my grandmother was not well attended. She had outlived two of her three children, and the remaining child and her family were estranged from the rest of the family, which only consisted of two grandchildren and two great-grandchildren. There was no wake.

The celebration of the life of my friend's grandmother will be much better attended, more full of tears, and yet  more full of happy memories, more full of laughter, kisses, and hugs.

My colleague that passed died by his own hand. He had been asked to retire, and was almost 70. Apparently worried over finances, he took his own life, perhaps believing that the insurance money would be a greater boon to his family than his continued existence. Perhaps he felt stripped of his dignity and manhood because his job was being taken away.

I cannot say that we were close. I had known him for years, seen him in the building, had coffee and chats from time to time. We always smiled and said hello. He was ever friendly and kind. I wish I had known him better.

For some moments in life there are no words.

Father's Day Memories

As I am sure you are all aware, yesterday was Father's Day. I have a dear friend who considers this a "Hallmark Holiday" and I suppose that in many ways it is. I will admit that I went through the motions and sent a card to my step-dad.

I spent Father's Day with Little One, and it was largely a day of leisure and fairly uneventful. Friday night I took her to meet a friend at the movie theater. After getting the tickets and laying out some ground rules, they were off, giggling and talking about cute boys, outfits, and doing whatever 12 year old girls do at the movies. Saturday we bummed around and then she went ice skating with this same girl friend. Afterward we went to Johnny Rockets for burgers and milkshakes with Finicky and his two kids.

Sunday Little One and I slept in, and then we met Finicky and his kids again, this time for doughnuts at the Krispy Kreme. I haven't had a doughnut in months, and I remember why. First, I am trying to eat better, but also after the second doughnut the sugar really churns in my stomach. And, frankly, two doughnuts just aren't that filling.

I hope Little One had a good day. She was generally sweet and kind to me. It made me think back to Father's Days spent with my old man. I would often buy him fishing tackle of some sort as a present. Either a cool lure, or some hooks, weights, bobbers, etc. And inevitably I would ask to borrow whatever it was I "gave" him. In later years, when I was working and had some money to spend, the gifts became real gifts and were certainly more thoughtful.

Generally I bought him books, but occasionally I would buy him a gun, or some sort of useful item or some sort of antique that I knew he would admire but never buy for himself. When he passed and we cleaned out his home I remember finding these things that he had saved for so many years. My sister had a similar experience, too. I kept some of the books that she had given him for Father's days or other occasions, and she found some that I had given him that she kept.

I keep a box in my closet of various things that remind me of my Little One. Stubs from movies that we saw together, football games or other events we attended. Report cards, pictures, a few school crafts, and other little things that bring me fond memories. Maybe one day when I am no more she will clean out my closet and find the box, and it will remind her of times we spent together.

Guilty Summer Pleasures

My Little One is off visiting family, so I have had the house (and TV) to myself. I am able to enjoy some of my interests with the rolling eyes that often accompany my 12-year old when the old man has the remote.

Here are a few of the shows that I am watching with impunity this week:
- Longmire - yes, it is yet another cop show, but it is hard to beat Big Sky country and a sheriff's deputy that I hope at any moment with slip and say "frack".
- Dr Who - I had fallen away from the show for some time, but with the help of the DVR I am making up for lost time. In some ways it is better, in others, meh. But still not a bad show to have on will working around the house.
- Various old movies - TCM and I have long, loving relationship. I can always count on the network for 2-3 movies a week. I usually pick some that I have seen before, and at least one that I haven't. Bell, Book and Candle was on recently. Kim Novak - wow...

I also have free range in the kitchen, and am able to experiment with recipes that my Little One would be hesitant to try. The added bonus is that of I botch them and they are inedible my pride does not force me to smile and eat them in front of her, but can chuck them in the bin.

Carry on, summer.

Human Mortality, or What Comes Next

In my spare time I often read. I read disparate and often seemingly unconnected things: a book about scuba diving on mysterious wrecks in the Atlantic. The naval battles of the Civil War. The world of prehistoric sharks, and the megalodon in particular. Essays on the nature of war. Sun spots.

As I try to step back and look at history, or perhaps History, there is one thing that is a recurring theme. That the planet we call home seems to reset itself biologically. Now, there are some here in the Deep South that would say that is nonsense. That the dinosaurs coincided with man, or perhaps the fossils were planted in the ground just to lead man astray from the true faith. I know that those beliefs aren't widely held, but nonetheless.

The means by which homo sapiens will become extinct on this orb is to my mind less interesting than what type of life will replace us. I suppose that how we become extinct does have some bearing on what will replace us. If the climate turns cold again, perhaps mammals will remain dominant. If the planet warms significantly will reptiles return to the glory of eons past? And what of the seemingly countless varieties of insects? Will they rise up and with their shortened life cycles be able to rapidly evolve to take advantage of changing conditions?

And this is all purely a matter of conjecture. The dust of my remains will have been re-purposed by the planet. Maybe it is more fun, as Frost noted, to wonder if the world will end in fire or ice. I suppose by the end of the world he meant human life. Perhaps he was being more absolute, and meant all life on the planet.

I was following an online conversation about short stories and ran across the link to this one, which I found quite entertaining.

Summertime and the Livin' is Easy

(Editor's Note: I began this post on the Tuesday after Memorial Day but am just now getting around to uploading it.)

I don't know so much about easy livin', but traffic was certainly light this morning as I made the trek to the office. The lack of school traffic and the fact that a fair number of working stiffs are on holiday certainly contributed to the paucity of cars in my way impeding me on my merry way. The one downside is that I didn't get to hear the end of a story on NPR. Hopefully they will play it again this afternoon or I will remember to find it online at some point.

The holiday weekend went by without much fanfare. I went to the farmer's market on Saturday morning and found some fresh vegetables and acquired some jam from a local farm. I ran other errands in the afternoon and then came home and fired up the work computer. Sunday was spent in a similar manner, trying to get caught on work things.

Memorial Day I got my fill of 'war' movies after watching one, and then played the last season of Trueblood on the DVR as I continued to bang things out for work. I ordered a pizza, ate some, and regretted the decision. Not that the pizza was bad; it was fine, but it was none too healthy, and I have been trying to eat better. Maybe that bad choice was offset by all of the vegetables eaten over the weekend, but I am not sure that it works that way.

My family was fortunate in that no one in my immediate family, even going back a few generations was a war casualty. We have had a lot of veterans, in most major US conflicts going back to the Civil War, but no deaths from combat. None in the recent comflicts, none in Vietnam, none in Korea (I am not aware of anyone that served here), none in WWII (although we did lose some family, they were not part of my direct lineage. One of dad's second cousins perished in the Colmar pocket in February of 1945).

This shortened work-week has been a blessing, too.

Crossfit?

One of the gals that I work with has dropped a lot of weight in the last 6-9 months. Like 50 pounds or so. A significant and noticeable amount. For the sake of discussion, we shall label her as "J". I have known J for about 4 years. We have become friends, through two marriages (hers and her daughter's), two divorces (hers and mine), a grandbaby (hers) and some surgeries (mine). J served as my 'emergency contact' a couple of times and drove me home after out-patient procedures.

So, after not having seen J too often as she had moved to another building in the organization and our paths don't cross personally and much often now professionally, I ran into her a about 6 weeks ago and was stunned at the transformation. I never considered her fat, just, like myself, middle-aged. Possessing that soft-ish body shape that most Americans in that age range possess. But J had dropped some weight. She looked great. Always perky, fun, and energetic, she had an even greater aura of positive vibes and self-confidence.

I asked her about her efforts, and she proceeded to tell me about the changes she had made to her diet and the exercise regime she had undertaken. Her son-in-law is co-owner of a Crossfit "Box" (they aren't called gyms) and she had begun attending regular classes/sessions there. J said that it had been tough at first, and was still tough, but that she enjoyed it. J suggested I give it a try.

The kicker I suppose was that I had been trying to exercise more on my own in the little gym at the apartment complex where I live. I would go 3-4 nights a week and do some cardio and maybe push some weight around the machines. I had messed with my diet a little, but not a whole lot, and if I am totally honest I wasn't pushing myself too harder. J mentioned that the folks at her Crossfit gym were nice, helpful and they were running a special - two weeks unlimited for free.

Free rings a bell with Jud, who can be notoriously cheap. Just ask Little One.

So, I loaded up some gym clothes one morning and agreed to meet here after work. It is also convenient, as the box is maybe 5 minutes from house (this proved to be very helpful). I was a little apprehensive and self-conscious as I am with most new things. As I surveyed the box, there were about 20 folks engaged in the day's workout and about 15 of us waiting for the next session to begin. There were more women than men present. Few of them looked really fit, although some looked really fit. Not body builder fit, but lean and muscular fit. The number of folks who appeared to be close to my age in my general state of disrepair lulled me into a false sense of security that I had experienced once before in college.

I will digress and share the college story. Once, as junior in college, roughly 1990, I decided that I would take an aerobics class. I figured it would help me get in better shape for the summer and my labor intensive job with the Forest Service. Heck, the class would probably be filled with hot girls and it might be a way to score a date.

I showed up for class and figured it would be easy. There weren't a lot of "hot" girls in the class, but the instructor was gorgeous. I took a spot in the back. Five minutes into the work, I was tripping over my feet trying to keep up, gasping for breath, sweating like an alcoholic going through rehab, and wondering when the misery would end. Most of the women in class must have been laughing on the inside at me. I would have been were I in their Reeboks. There were a fair number of "old women" in that class (read 30) who looked like they might have been trying to lose some baby weight. They didn't look like coeds, but they weren't obese. But they were in cardiovascular shape and I wasn't. They could move to the routines, and I could not.

From the second class until the end of the term I took a spot in the front. I think some thought I just wanted to be closer to the cute instructor, which was partially true, but not because I was trying to check her out or put the moves on her. I was a sweaty out of shape mess, which I have learned is not the best way to attract women. I moved up because I would sweat so much my glasses wouldn't stay on my head and I couldn't see  well enough to even see what moves we were supposed to be doing. By week 3 I was doing better, keeping up (for the most part), and my footwork had greatly improved. I thought that there might be hope for me yet, until the instructor said "today we learn a new routine so you don't get bored". A part of me died that day. I made it through the term and learned not to judge a person's level of fitness solely by their girth or lack thereof.

So, at Crossfit a experienced a bit of deja vu. After a short time I was sweating profusely and wondering what happened to all of the oxygen that used to seem so abundant in the air. After about 30 minutes, which seemed much longer, the workout leaders said "Grab some water and then we will start the workout." I turned to J with a look of terror and bewilderment and she explained "that was just the warm-up."

I didn't make it through the workout.

In fact, now nearing the end of almost my 4th week, I have to complete a full workout. I came close yesterday. Today I am so sore I am not sure I will make. I do have a lot more energy than I did 4 weeks ago when I began. I have lost some weight, but more importantly, some of the fluff around my middle. I even joined the 'box' and am on the hook for a year. It is significantly more expensive than a gym membership. That in itself will make me much more likely to go. They folks are nice and supportive. It is competitive, but not in a head-to-head sense (it may be for some), but it is more peer pressure to give maximum effort and to do as much as one can. My back issues and age (most of the folks are younger, but there are plenty my age and some older) do work against me, but I take it easy when I need to and wear my back brace to help my posture.

Watch this space for news on my ongoing progress.

And So, the End is Near...

The end of the school year, that is. Little One is released on Thursday for the summer. Sixth grade will be behind her. I think that 6th grade was my favorite of all of my years of school, apart from college.

I lived in Oklahoma when I was in the sixth grade. I went to school in a small town. I lived out in the country and road the bus forever and a day to get there. I was the first on one and the last one off. I enjoyed the fact that I knew where a lot of my classmates lived. And, I had some free time to finish homework or read on the bus.

Through the wonder that is Facebook I have reconnected with some of my childhood pals. It is fun to get a glimpse into their lives and see how they "turned out", and see pictures if their families, with kids and in some cases grandchildren. Some have moved away from Oklahoma, but most of them are still there.

Little One doesn't have too many big plans for the summer. She will spend some time with Nana (MOJ), the ex-laws (probably), and the EW gets 4 weeks of summer visitation, but she hasn't requested any yet. I will probably take her down to beach at some point, if only for a long weekend.

But the summer weather seems to have arrived. Today it is sunny and about 90 outside with a nice measure of humidity thrown in for good measure. Enjoy your summer, Little One. Play in the pool, relax, recharge, and 7th grade will be here before you know it.

Scene from a Chinese Buffet

I had meant to post this a while back, but never got around to completing it.

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I went to lunch the other day with Finicky. We visited one of the haunts from our younger days, a local Chinese buffet. You remember the younger days? The days when you could consume a none too healthy lunch, not fall asleep at your desk and then some how not gain weight from the experience.

We don't go too often anymore. It is a large restaurant. It is the end cap of strip mall in an older part of town whose best days are in the past. It is always busy. When you walk in, with machine like precision, the expressionless man asks "Two?" without so much as a word of greeting, but then it would slow down the process of moving the seemingly endless line of grazers from the door to tables. His next question, "Drink?" is asked without making eye contact, as he scrawls our responses on a ticket pad and then hastily rips it off and sets it down on the table, and he is gone.

Without ever sitting down, we join the other grazers in line. It is amazing to watch the clientele, most of whom are regulars, searching the steam tables as if they are going to find something that was not here the last 40 times they visited.

The grazers fall into a few distinct categories:

 - The Cattle: rude, but these are large, lumbering people who barely fit into the booths and are wrecking the profits for the owner. They often know what they want and pile it on high so as to make fewer trips. Sometimes they take plates two at a time.See also John Pinnette.

- The Children: Usually accompanied by an adult, they peer over the top, dragging their plates, often losing some food bits here or there. Sweet. Innocent.

- The lunch bunch: These folks are excited. Lunch is the highlight of the day, and they are more rushed to get their grub. They also talk over lunch, not always heard at the other tables.

- The Picky Eater: Generally, but not always female, looking for dishes that might be healthier than others. Looks at the sushi cautiously. Shakes head at the salad offerings and the lack of oil and vinegar for a dressing.

- The Laborers: These are the folks that work outside. Plates are usually piled high. Rushed for time. Need lots of calories to get back out and build/fix/do whatever they do to keep things running.

I am sure there are other groups that I have missed, and others might have different categories.

I enjoy eating there, but my pants don't fit so loosely that I can do it often.

The Politics of Severe Weather and School Closings

Here in the Deep South,  it is a well known fact that a mere half-inch of snow can cause school closures. I know that folks who live with snow laugh at this notion, and not without some justification. However, if you had ever been in the South when snowflakes begin to fall, the mass hysteria that can grip the populace is interesting. I hope that some sociologists get a grant to study it one day.

Just moments ago I received notification that the school Little One attends will be closed early. I have copied the email notification here:


THERE WILL BE A THREE-HOUR EARLY DISMISSAL OF SCHOOL TODAY.  EACH SCHOOL WILL DISMISS THREE HOURS EARLIER THAN ITS NORMAL DISMISSAL TIME.
BUSES WILL RUN REGULAR ROUTES.  ALL AFTER SCHOOL ACTIVITIES ARE CANCELLED - INCLUDING ATHLETIC, FINE ARTS AND EXTENDED DAY. 

There is a threat of severe weather this afternoon, including severe thunderstorms and tornadoes. I include here a snippet from the local newspaper's online edition:

As for the possibility of a more severe weather scenario, The NSPC predicts a less than 5 percent chance of seeing any tornado activity in the state, but repeats the warnings of possible straight line winds and heavy rain.
The forecast for most of the state calls for the potential of damaging straight line winds in excess of 60 mph and rain amounts from 1 to 3 inches. There is a wind advisory for the entire state with frequent wind gusts of 30 to 35 mph outside of the thunderstorm activity predicted.

Closing schools across the state with only a chance of tornadoes at 5%? 

Alabama does have a history of deadly tornadoes, and as recently as April 2011 we had a series of really bad storms. I understand the need to alert and warn the populace of the storms, but are the community's children safer dispersed or together at the schools? From a purely statistical point of view, I would think that if there were a tornado, the odds of losing the life of a child is greater if the children are dispersed. If all of the kids were in school and the school were hit by a tornado, then the chance for a catastrophic loss of life is present.

There is no easy answer for this. I deal in risk analysis for a living, and I suppose when I think about that dispersing the children makes the most sense if the ultimate goal is to reduce the overall risk to the student population. There are other factors to consider, though. It is no big deal for me to work from home, or if I had to, to use 1/2 of a vacation day to collect Little One. There are many families that may not be as able to miss work, or arrange for transportation or child care for the wee ones.

What is the economic impact in the loss of productivity from all the parents that have to leave work early, both for the workers and the employers? I know that we like to think that we cannot equate a human life - and especially a child's life - to a numeric equation that involves a dollar sign, but that should be a factor in the equation. I understand that the school should not consider the economic impact of the decision, as that is not their mission. But perhaps as a community we should.

I know that in my state the threat of tornadoes is very real, and memories of widespread destruction of property and the loss of life are vivid and terrible. Perhaps these are driving the decisions of the day.

Crying Wolf: A Cautionary Tale

We all of have our quirks. Beyond that, we all have patterns of behavior. Many of these are conscious acts. I find quite a bit of comfort in my morning and daily routine of the work week. We also have patterns of behavior that we are not necessarily aware of but can be quite obvious to those around us.

Please allow me this disclaimer: I am a flawed, vain, selfish and often lazy creature.  I know this. I a, also certain that others can point out my eccentricities of behavior better than I can, and certainly those of which I am not aware, or choose to ignore.

But this post isn't about me, but about the EW. Yesterday the EW was taken to the hospital complaining of chest pains. She thought she was having a heart attack. Little One was with her and got to ride in the ambulance. The EW tried to reach me and drop off the Little One but I couldn't be reached. I was deep in a drug aided sleep. I had taken some non-prescription sleep aids and left my phone in the living room when I went to bed. I missed calls from the EW, Little One and MoJ. Little One even pounded on the from door, but I slept one for several hours.

I am sure that the EW thought I was up to shenanigans, but sadly I was alone, Morpheus had taken deep into his land. When I woke from slumber, my first thought was not to go for my phone. Who calls me on weekends? Apart from the odd call from a friend or a family member, one. And certainly not a call before noon. I also didn't expect any calls from work that early because we didn't install any new software over the weekend (next code push is Wednesday, so I do expect emails and possibly calls all night Wednesday and into Thursday AM). I rose, showered, dressed and prepared to head to a leisurely, decadent breakfast. When I grabbed my phone I saw that I had been sought by lots of folks.

I called the EW and she was safely at the ER I headed that way. When I arrived, I was greeted outside by the College Boy (step son - or is it former stepson since we are divorced? What is the etiquette here?). He guided me back and I saw the EW  and Little One standing beside her. The EW said she had had a heart attack. College Boy had told that the initial tests had come back negative. The EW was being admitted for observation as the cardiologist was not working that day and they wanted to keep an eye on her.

I am not a doctor. The EW may well have had a heart episode or even a small heart attack. Time will tell. She is in her early 40s. She is a smoker. She is overweight. Not morbidly obese, but probably 25-35 pounds over her age/height target. She also has some sort of mitral valve prolapse, but this has never required medication or treatment, apart from antibiotics in conjunction with dental procedures.

The EW does a have a pattern of finding herself I. The hospital when relationships are in trouble. It happened several times with me. It happened on a couple of occasions with her last girlfriend. After speaking with College Boy, the current girlfriend moved out on Saturday. Sunday found the EW in the hospital. I tended to come to her side when we were married, even if I didn't want to be there. Towards the end of our marriage, I didn't maintain the 24 hour bedside vigil. I knew the drill. The last girlfriend didn't, either. The current girlfriend apparently was a no show.

I hope that the EW is blessed with a long, healthy life. I hope she lives to see her children grown, graduating, married and have children of their own (should that be their desire). I hope that she determine what makes her happy in this life and then finds it. Maybe I need to do the same.

Singin' in the Rain

It is a dull, grey, drizzly day here in my corner of the Deep South. I enjoy rain generally, and the bright spot to this rain is that it is helping to knock a lot of the pollen out of the air. The rivulets in the gutters are topped with a film of yellow pine pollen.

Little One likes the song that serves as the title of this post. She has chosen it as her music for an upcoming ice skating competition. It is her "showcase" piece, and tonight we will seek out a yellow raincoat and some rain boots. Boots you ask? Yes, we will get them large enough that we can cut out the soles and cover her ice skates with them. I am not sure if an umbrella will be involved or not, but I think it might be a nice prop to have as long as it doesn't through off her balance or distract her from her routine.

I myself have been singing different tunes of late. I found an obscure album online and purchased it from iTunes. My father had the LP years ago and made a copy for me on cassette. It was quite giddy when I found it and now these songs are once again in my head. If you have an interest in folk music you might want to check it out. Little One was not impressed, but I will still sing in the rain on the drive home tonight.

The Dreaded "C"

It finally happened. I think it was bound to happen eventually, so better now than later. Little One brought home a "C" on her report card.

I was upset when I saw the grade, but even more distraught when I saw the subject - Social Studies. I had really expected to see the grade appear in Math, as this is the subject with which she struggles most. Instead it was in a subject that she enjoys and historically has made very good grades.

Little One screwed up and didn't turn in two (2) assignments and got zeroes. One was a report/essay/theme that had a major impact on her final grade. Little One tried to blame her teacher, circumstances, and the waxing of the moon as the reasons why the work wasn't completed and submitted for grading.

Getting her to take personal responsibility is perhaps my greatest challenge. It is one of the most important lessons that she needs to learn, I think.

Lord but I need a Lackey

There are times when I really miss some of the 'comforts' of marriage. The big areas where I felt the hole the most are parenting and chores/errands. 

Parenting is a contact sport to begin with, but it can be nice to have the tag-team in effect and to be able to rotate out once in a while and let the other half deal with whatever the issue of the moment is. Sometimes it can be hard to catch one's breath.

The other issue has to do with the day-to-day minutiae of running a household, paying bills, grocery shopping, laundry, house cleaning, going to the post office, birthday cards, Christmas shopping and the like. In the last 4 years since we separated I have been doing it all. On most days it isn't that much of a big deal, but there are times when I could use a personal assistant - or a lackey.

A friend of mine's daughter makes her living as a personal assistant for the rich and/or famous. She was for several years in charge of running the household for a famous comedian/TV actor. She paid the bills, managed the comings and goings of plumbers and other tradesmen, furniture deliveries, etc. She didn't do any nanny duties, just the other. Now she does the same the thing for some software mogul on the west coast.

It is doubtful that I will ever be able to afford such a luxury. But at times I misplace a bill, or some other piece of information mailed to me that should be filed, or end up eating out because I don't have time to run to the market, etc. I am horrible with birthday and Christmas cards, so if you should ever get one, I must have been having a good week.

American Idle

A good friend of mine has been without a job for about 13 months. With almost 20 years of practical experience in her chosen field, an MBA for a good school and seemingly good references, no jobs even approaching her past position have been offered.

She has been and continues to be frustrated, and remarked "I know why some people just quit looking." I am sure that there are tens of thousands of people, if not more, in similar situations. I know that the saying 'it's easier to find a job when you have a job', is true.

I have been in her shoes. Well, not her shoes, but similar shoes. I was once out of work for a period of 6 months. It was hellish. And expensive. And depressing. I would spend hours each days on the big job posting sites, the websites of various companies, and emailing and calling past colleagues and friends. Despite all of my efforts, I had very few interviews and no substantive offers.

I fear for my future at times. While I believe that I am high achiever and well respected by my current employer, anything could happen. I could, like many others, through no fault of my own, be part of some cost cutting measure. Through my own errors or actions could give reason to be released. Heck, everybody screws up stuff from time to time. And what then? What if this were to happen later in my career? I think that the older one gets the tougher it is to land a new spot.

So I am trying to build a stronger external network in the larger community where I work, but locally and regionally. Another maxim, "dig your well before you are thirsty" seems apt.

Good luck to all out there who need a job and searching. Don't despair. Keep plugging away.

Little One's $136 t-shirt

Little One, like many children, often asks me to buy things for her, from snacks to toys, to exotic pets, furniture, clothing and trips to far-off lands. Monday evening, she asked that I swing by the local humane society and purchase a t-shirt for her.

At the time, this seemed like a simple and reasonable request that I could fulfill.

The agency closes at 1630, but as it is very close to my office, I worked through lunch and headed out at 1600 to snag the garment. Turning into the lot, I didn't pay attention to the turning radius and my right rear wheel hit the curb. Embarrassing, but no big deal. The hoopdee has had worse treatment at my hands.

I entered the gift shop and stood in the queue behind two groups of folks adopting canines. Apparently 15 minutes before closing is the peak time to get a dog on Tuesday. It was fun to watch the folks ooh and ah over their critters, and select all of the bowls and leads and collars for them, too.

Finally, it was my turn and I paid for the shirt and left. Upon leaving the building, I felt it wise to at least glance at my tire and rim and to see if I had caused any damage. I had. The tire was flat. It was raining. It was now rush hour.

I opened the boot and grabbed the tools necessary for removing the damaged tire, raising the vehicle and placing the diminutive spare in place. I went to work, and in less than 10 minutes I was road ready, albeit at a significantly diminished speed.

Fortunately for the car and my sanity, I was but a mere mile or two from the closest tire shop/light mechanical repair place. They examined my tire and pronounced it "to' up" and that I would need a new one. Of course, they didn't have my tire in stock (bad) but the courier was out getting another tire (good) and would get mine and be back in about an hour (meh),

I stood in the waiting room of the tire place reading emails and catching up on the day's news on Politico. In due course, the tire was replaced, the technician who drove my car from the bay told me "ya need a tune up." I thought of telling him, no, I don't need a tune up. I need a new mass air flow sensor, head gasket, brakes" and several other things. But I smiled and said thanks.

I went back inside to pay for the tire and their time, to the tune of $126. I eventually made it home and Little One beamed as I handed her the $136 dollar t-shirt.

Enjoy the image I found to illustrate my story.....

Finicky!

Finicky is back, at least temporarily. Definitely a "must-read'!

http://finickymeterisnotavailable.blogspot.com/

Match Maker, Match Maker

So, some of my gal pals at the office (including my 'work wife') have decided that I need to join and online dating service. This is foreign (virgin?) territory for me, to be sure. I have asked for their input and advice.

As the first step is the creation of a username and profile, we have scheduled a lunch meeting for the creation of the same. We have booked a conference room and I will be ordering lunch in for the team. It should be quite the fun hour. So far, some ideas for a user name include something containing 'Professor', 'Nerd', and 'Transition Man'.

I think that my friends are as interested in seeing who among our co-workers may also be out there on the dating site. Two of the four peer helpers are married. Two are older than me by @ 6-10 years. Two are younger, by 10-15 years. It will be interesting to see how they might describe my personality, behavior and how they would go about marketing me to the local community of women.

I must say that I really am not very interested in dating at present, but it will be fun to hang out and have a laugh or two.

Is there peace in the valley?

Recently the EW and I have been talking more, almost all related to Little One. The conversations have been  polite, cordial and even productive. But I have to wonder, based on past experience, what else is going on? What am I missing? What is the agenda?

I know that this sounds cold and callous. That is become I am both. Little One is having her troubles and the EW and I need to work together to resolve them, but I cannot help but wonder what else might be going on.

Is this the beginning of peace in the valley or but the calm before the storm?

I am not a Soccer Mom...or Dad

Unfortunately for Little One (LO), I am not to social at her extracurricular events. I am not one to make small talk with the other parents, comment on how well our kids are doing (or not doing), or whatever else people gee-haw about.

I am much more likely to be watching my kid or reading. Often I will have earbuds in, even if not listening to music or a lecture, just to maintain the body language of someone who doesn't want to chat. Yes, I am that guy. I am the guy reading a book at the bar of a busy restaurant on a Saturday night. I am not there to chat, but I am tired of my cooking and don't want to have to endure the witty banter of a server. Bartenders are generally much better are reading their clientele and being professional, efficient and then getting the hell out of the way.

My behavior is not without an impact on my daughter. It is doubtful that she will have many friends spending the night because I don't make the effort to get to the know their parents (the converse is also true, I suppose).

For this, my precious Little One, I do apologize. Call me selfish. Call me an introvert. I plead guilty on both counts.

Ah, Little One, How You Vex Me

My darling daughter, my Little One. I am sorry that your middle finger got smashed at the ice rink this morning. I know it is painful. I am also sorry (for you) that I had to take your cell phone. I did not take it away because you called your mom, but because dirty clothes were piled 3 layers deep in your bathroom when you were about to leave for school and you promised me that you had cleaned your bathroom last night.  It stinks, but don't tell me stories.

Little One, I want to know what is bothering you at school that makes you visit the nurse's office so often and beg to come home. You didn't like your last school where you were a minority, but you excelled academically and had friends and were active in extracurricular activities. We moved to a new school this year, and you have also done very well with your grades, seem to have friends, and are involved in clubs and such.

So what is it? You have mentioned some run-ins with your "nemesis", Sarah Grace, but I thought that it had been sorted out. I know that middle school is a new, scary and challenging environment. For what it's worth, I hated it, too. High school was a little better, but mostly because college was the light at the end of the tunnel. I don't know what I can do to help, but I need you to tell me what is really bothering you so we can work together to fix it. Home school is not an option.

With love,
Your confused and worried Dad

And, for 2013 I Resolve

...to make no resolutions. I thought about this a good bit, actually. I decided against it, and here's why. I read an interesting book last year by one of the founders of LinkedIn, Reid Hoffman, called The Start-Up of You. It had some pretty good ideas in it, and I took several to heart. Like most 'self-help' books, there is really nothing totally new in here, but I think that certain authors are able to reach certain readers more effectively.

The notion that a person should regularly engage in periods of critical self-evaluation and then see if modification of one's course is needed is something that I am trying to take to heart. At times in my life I have been content to drift along in the current of my life, without really doing much to steer the boat. That approach didn't often produce positive outcomes, and certainly didn't make the most of those times.

So I didn't make any resolutions. I have done some reflection and am making some modifications to the course that I have plotted for myself. I will share part of my list here:

- Move my office from my current building back to the HQ. It has been valuable to be in this location as projects in the past several benefited from the proximity to certain resources, but as these projects are ending I need to move back to the centers of influence for new projects and continued advancement. I don't need to be out of sight and out of mind.

- Complete my scuba diving certification. I did all of the classroom work, pool work and aced the tests. I wasn't able to schedule my check-out dives last year, and getting divorced cut into the disposable income. This spring I will complete the process and then be able to enjoy this sport.

- Train my daughter to be a saver. I have done a poor job at this, and there are some practical exercises that I have in mind for us to learn, laugh and grow together.

- Vacation and learn to relax. I take time off from work. I normally don't use all of my vacation time. And when I am off, often times I just sleep and don't "do". Or I am working while I am on vacation. last year I was neck deep in a huge project and on a trip to the beach with Little One I was taking meetings on my cell phone from coffee shops with Wifi access, the hotel, and other lovely spots. Not the kind of beach memories I was hoping to make.

- Connect with people. I have a rich and fulfilling work life. I enjoy what I do and the people I work with. That said, I don't really have people that I socialize with outside of the office. Certainly none that I spend time with any degree of regularity. I have been content to sit at home and read, etc., watch TV, and just spend time with Little One. But we need to get out more and engage.

That's the short list for now. Have you resolved to do anything differently in this new year?