Archive for May 2009
Almost Home
Yes, of course I’m watching the first game of the NHL Stanley Cup Finals. I was thinking about the team sports that I watch and it occurred to me that there is something that hockey, soccer, and basketball share that is not present in baseball or American football. In the latter two sports, the possession of the ball is well defined and therefore, in a way, the play lacks creativity. All the other sports share the aspect of spontaneity as the movement of the ball/puck is based on split-second decisions of the athletes and often determined by the position and movement of the defenders.
That’s a huge difference. It makes the creative sports a bit more difficult for broadcast television networks to package their barrage of advertising. You never know when the break in action will occur. Except for soccer. That one is easy because there is almost no break in action (except when the best actors/athletes display an extended anguish over their painful injuries) and they have to save their ads for halftime. Of course the advertisements are the whole reason they bother to televise the event in the first place. We’d like to think they just really, really want to show the world these sporting events and then decide to find some sponsors to finance it, but come on… Oops, is my inner skeptic showing?
I grew up under the influence of Minnesota Vikings football in my home and football easily became my favorite sport. Now that sport has become the least interesting to watch and I find myself torn because it remains the one with the most pleasant memories. There is a deep desire to reclaim all the experiences of autumn romanticized in my memory surrounding football. It just isn’t there for me anymore.
This all makes for convenient distraction from thinking about the fact that Julian’s flight home, from his study abroad semester in Stockholm, Sweden, that was supposed to arrive Saturday evening, was delayed and he is stranded overnight in Amsterdam. Not that big a deal, except for the fact he had intended to host a significant number of friends that he hasn’t seen for a long time, at our home to celebrate his return. The word did get out and we only had one visitor show up, confused to find himself the only guest.
Julian’s inherited passion for the Vikings and NFL football is the closest thing I have toward reliving my fond memories, and he’s almost home. I bet I can get him to watch some Stanley Cup games with me this week. Then, before you know it, the Vikings will be in training camp and we’ll get to share a dose of that passion of my youth.
Embrace Mystery
Where did the world come up with the accepted visual image of Jesus Christ’s appearance? I bet you can picture him in your mind.
I have been thinking about optical illusions. How do we differentiate between reality and illusion of information coming to our brain through our eyes? I saw a fascinating graphic that illustrates a spinning ball dropping across an image, top to bottom. To the right of the falling ball there was a solid dot. If you focus on the spinning ball, it appears to fall in a straight line. If you focus on the solid dot, the spinning ball appears to fall in a dramatic curve. So which is true? Is it falling straight or curving? I expect most would say straight, because that is the appearance when looking directly at it. Going by that conclusion establishes significant doubt to the accuracy of peripheral vision for details of an event. It would be logical to allow room for doubt about the absolute accuracy of our perceptions of the world we see.
It makes sense to me to be a bit less confident about perceptions beyond just the visual, as well. There are medical myths that become so common that people take them as fact, even after modern science is able to reveal the inaccuracies of the myth. Do you think getting wet and chilled can cause a cold? Does reading in low light cause bad eyesight? Should we be drinking at least 8 glasses of water a day?
I think the best thing to be sure of is that there are mysteries that we don’t exactly understand.
The more I come to know,
the more aware I grow,
of how little about the world I know.
Fun Facts
From the files of “more information than you asked for” comes a random lesson about Phillips screw heads… (Courtesy of aaronsscrewdrivers.com). I did not know this:
Ironically, Phillips screws were designed to cam out. They were invented to prevent unskilled industrial workers from overdriving fasteners. The tapered wings of Phillips drivers act as a clutch that forces drivers out of screw sockets after the screws are driven home. But the tradeoff is that workers have to lean hard on the drivers to prevent unwanted slippage.
If a Phillips bit “jumps out” of the fastener (often referred to as camout), the surrounding work piece area can be damaged. ACR bits reduce the risk of camout and permit higher applied torque. ACR insert bits’ special wing-face ribs grip screw recesses to reduce stripping and camout. Some ACR bits have these special wing-face ribs for driving screws, some have ribs for removing and yet ether have ribs for both driving and removal.
In case you didn’t know, ACR stands for the “anti-camout ribs” that are formed on Phillips driver tips and may also occur in screw sockets. The ribs mate drivers securely to screws to minimize camout while reducing worker fatigue. ACR drivers can reduce camout by 30% to 40%.
Designed to cam out. Go impress your friends with that tidbit.
I played Mr. Construction Guy Thursday after work and got out the circular saw and the drill and finished the chore Elysa started, building the second raised bed for a vegetable garden. I also ended up modifiying her first one to make it sit a bit more level on the slight incline where the garden is located. Toward the end of the little project, I was racing the fading daylight, concerned all the hammering and drilling might become annoying to nearby families trying to put young kids to bed as it got later and later. I was a bit surprised to see the police officer walking up, but figured maybe I had already made too much noise or something.
“Did someone call 9-1-1?” he asked.
He told us they had received a 911 hangup from this address. A complete shock to us, but Cyndie had been using the phone to try and reach Elysa to see about getting more nails for our project. In the end, we found the second box and didn’t need to buy more. But the whole time we were visiting with the officer, apologizing for the likely inadvertant dialing, while he called off the other patrols racing to save us and phoned the dispatcher to verify our phone was the one that called, I was watching my light fade and worrying about my noise now carrying on even later into the evening. It didn’t take too much longer to get the building part completed, so now all that is left is a lot of hauling dirt. I’m afraid I won’t be able to get to that until long after others have had better opportunities to take care of it first. I can hope.
Not Blank
The thing about indicating a page is blank by writing that it is blank, well… “The phrase is a self-refuting meta-reference in that it falsifies itself by its very existence on the page in question.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Intentionally_blank_page). It just makes me feel uneasy with how we have evolved when I stop and examine some of the ways we do things. Before you know it, we will see warnings telling us that hot coffee is hot or that we shouldn’t let children play with plastic bags from the dry cleaner.
Do you ever think that sometime in the future the human race will achieve a state of being that leaves out the aspect of doing stupid things? What happened to survival of the fittest? Why hasn’t doing “stupid” been eliminated by attrition? Maybe there is profit in it. If somebody’s making money as a result of it, then there is motivation to have it continue. I’m going to have my lawyer look into this.
Why can’t we all just get along? Sibling battles can be ruthless, but if there is a threat against the family, suddenly they are the closest comrades and strongest defenders. Families can feud until there is a call to defend the neighborhood against an outside challenge. When the planet is threatened, our wars between nations will lose importance and all people will need to unite and direct their angst at a common foe. Of course, if it comes down to needing to fight other humans to preserve self, we still have it in us to not get along.
Don’t you just love the feeling when you find yourself in an elevator with just one other person, and that person just happens to be your rival? There is an opportunity to look at things with the eye of God. What would it be like if all people put into practice the concept of unconditional love at all times in all situations? I don’t think it would be stupid.
Proud Parents
Let’s see if you can properly parse this: I love the areas of view on the way home that don’t have any billboards. Know what I’m sayin’?
I just gotta say that as parents, Cyndie and I try to contain ourselves with a modicum of restraint, but every so often let it all go and gush over our children’s accomplishments. I don’t know what others will think of Julian’s latest musical endeavor, I hope to let it speak for itself, but we are enjoying it maybe a little bit too much. Therefore, it is getting shared with others, maybe sometimes for no other reason than so we get to see it again. I hope you will have a moment to watch and listen to the video he and friend, Dave Marshall, have produced across the distance between Chicago and Stockholm, “fhmseotu” which you can find at this link: http://www.youtube.com/EpicerMusic (4:53 in length). Well done, I say.
At the same time that Cyndie and I were doing a few chores at the lake and then power lounging in the bright spring sunshine, daughter Elysa was home doing a little construction and then hauling dirt to create a wood-framed raised bed for a vegetable garden at our home. A great demonstration of getting into a project and making good progress on her own. I can think of enough obstacles to reaching the level of completion that she has, that I would likely have not been able to accomplish what she did. Maybe she hasn’t taken on all of my more difficult personality traits. I can tell you that it sure felt pleasant to arrive home from the weekend away and find things all tidied up from the work she did. Bravo!
After spending the weekend with a gaggle of nieces and nephews, plus all the many young children of the families of our lodge club, I’m left with plenty of hope for the future because these kids sure all seem to be strong, good looking, and above average! And as we grow toward optimal health, mind-body-soul, they will, too, and then go on to raise even healthier children of their own. The dysfunctions of the world are bound to decline when we focus on the healthy and the good and wrap it all with unconditional love, as opposed to the opposite. Know what I’m sayin’?
Rich in Many Ways
Sunday, I had few priorities pressuring me beyond making decisions, like where I would lounge next. Ah, the middle day of a three-day weekend. There is always tomorrow to face the things I can put off today. I made my laptop endure some intense spring sunshine and a passing shower of pine tree pollen. Check out the picture at the end of this post to see the image I captured of the pattern made by pollen bombs.
- “cabin”
It was an interesting mix of temperatures today, based on where you were. The inside of the cabin –oops… that should be “cabin” in quotes to differentiate it from what most people conjure up for that noun– felt a lot cooler than outside, and I found myself shivering in just a t-shirt. Outside was about perfect, but the breeze coming off the lake was still on the cool side. Then, late in the afternoon, I heard a radio report say 83° that I found hard to reconcile, except when I consider the number of kids who were actually playing in the lake water down at the beach. The speed boat was out today with happy screaming coming from the tube being pulled behind it.
I took advantage of time to work on memorizing song lyrics and building stronger calluses on my fingers. I played for long blocks of time, the last of which turned out to be a fun sing-along around the fire at the lodge as the dusk of evening morphed into chilly, dark night. I accomplished a nap in the hammock in the afternoon that was probably the most sound sleep I’ve ever had amidst the daylight bustle of speedboats and shouting people having fun.
I am blessed with riches beyond anything I’ve earned and the most precious richness is in the people I know and with whom I share activities. The people of Wildwood Lodge Club are more valuable than the place itself, and the place is my paradise. This year, the wildlife appears to have changed a bit and instead of the family of foxes that we saw so much of last summer, it is bears that are making the most visits. The woodpeckers have grown so bold that they go about their activities as if we didn’t exist, granting us incredible views from surprisingly short distance. In the evening, two loons floated by pretty close to our shoreline and when somebody pointed them out, an argument occurred over whether it was a loon or a beaver/turtle/small dog because it looked HUGE. When the one that had drawn all the attention finally turned to reveal the classic profile, the argument abruptly ended as the answer was obvious. Biggest appearing loon any of us had ever witnessed.
For a change of pace this year, the first generation owners chose to go out to a restaurant and the second generation families brought their own food to grill at the lodge and appetizers to share for the group dinner of the holiday weekend. It seemed a more leisurely pace. The kids mixed as they always do and appear well on their way to making connections that mirror the sort of relationships all of their parents share with each other. It is an impressive thing to witness, especially as one who has married into the opportunity. This community is something I wouldn’t have believed existed in real life, before I had the chance to witness it myself. It helps me to keep a perspective of the many different ways do define “rich”.
Pine pollen "bombs" leaving trails on Cyndie's once shiny black Mustang.
Images of the Day
I played with my camera a little today. I think I got some nice prospects for use in my “Words on Images” series. Here are some samples of what I saw and what the lens collected:
Looking west along the shoreline
I think I like this one better.
The Trillium are in bloom!
Some were turning purple.
Cousins havin' a little picnic on the deck.
New growth!
More new growth.
At the Lake
It is Memorial Day weekend and Cyndie and I have gone “to the lake.” Those three words contain so much information, for those who know the tradition. For many years, when I was growing up, that phrase meant lake Mille Lacs, the walleye capital of the world. Dad had a fishing cabin on the north side of the lake. I haven’t done much fishing myself as an adult and these days the lake place that is my target is Round Lake in Wisconsin, where the fishing is dwarfed by the pontoon party boats, jet skis, and speed boats pulling skiers, wakeboards, or tubes.
My view upon waking.
It is work weekend at Wildwood. Time for all the families to gather for the first time since Labor Day last fall and be surprised by how much the kids have grown. We clean the beach and bring out all the water toys and lounge chairs, sweep off the tennis courts, and plant some flowers by the lodge. Then sit down to a celebration dinner together that truly kicks off the season of summer events at our vacation home association.
Yesterday, while the peak weekend traffic was lined up to get out of town, I was taking a nap at home and Cyndie was doing a few chores. I’ve changed from my former pattern of scrambling to be one of the first ones on the front edge of that traffic to being one of the last ones. I am finding much joy in the more leisurely pace. We set out on the 3-hour drive just after 8:30 p.m. with the top down in the Mustang and the sky smeared with some lazy looking clouds that provided a nice sky at dusk for a backdrop. There was no evidence of any traffic backup remaining and we sailed along at our own pace pretty much the whole way. At the gas stop we made, the top went back up to keep out the evening chill, but when we finally arrived and climbed out of the car just before midnight, it certainly wasn’t cold.
We are at the lake. Well worth the minor inconvenience of driving up in the dark of night. Everyone here was down for the night when we arrived. We carried our stuff in as quietly as possible, dumped it in piles and joined them in slumber; after I quietly ran through a song that I am trying to memorize with my Baby Taylor guitar. Right before sleep, helps the remembering. Ultimately, the reward is in being able to wake up and already be in this special place. Now it’s time to do some chores.
Perfect Enough
If ever there was a device appropriate for use in treating individuals suffering from extremes of perfectionism, I believe the reel mower admirably qualifies. It’s that time of year again: time to mow lawn grass. Even though there is NHL playoff hockey on television, the grass demands attention. The timing of the effort was precise. I waited just long enough that the strange hot spell that blew in with 40 mile-per-hour gusts of wind and temperatures in the mid 90° (F) range, has moved on and left us in the comfortable 70s, and got it done before the arrival of our early Memorial Day weekend.
As much as I value the aesthetic attraction of cleanly cut grass, my priorities fall more along the lines of scorn for the whole idea of lawn grass. In my mind, it is an environmental atrocity. Since we cut the blades of the plant, it never gets a full opportunity to live a normal life and we need to feed it and water it. It ends up requiring more energy than it is able to give back. That imbalance is exacerbated by the polluting machines that are used to mow.
As much as I would like to claim that my decision to switch to using an entirely human-powered reel mower to do our cutting was all about saving the planet, that would be a deviation from my normal brutal honesty. There was definitely some problem solving behind it, but it had more to do with a resistance toward having to buy and store fuel, and my shortcomings relating to small gas engines. The reel mower was my solution. I fell in love right away. Most of all, I enjoyed the immediate reward of the general quiet of mowing, as compared to using a power mower, and the total silence whenever I just stop pushing. What a pleasant experience the chore becomes in comparison.
But it comes with a sacrifice. It is nearly impossible to cut every last blade. I’ve tried a lot of variations of technique and no matter what I have done, the result continues to best be compared with the look of a bad haircut. However, in an ongoing lesson for my strong tendency toward perfectionism, I find that it pretty much always looks just fine from a distance. Given that I didn’t burn any fossil fuels and got some healthy exercise while doing it, I’d say it looks GREAT! What I’ve come to call, “perfect enough.”
And in a stroke of perfect timing, I was done in time to get in and witness the Penguins’ Evgeni Malkin perform his no-look backhand shot for a goal and for a hat-trick, too! The scene, with his parents in the crowd, teary eyed dad grabbing and kissing his mom’s cheek as the image was displayed on the big screen at the rink, causing the crowd to roar with even more energy, …it was special. More than perfect enough.
Relative Something 