Holiday Reflections

My daughter suggests I post more often, my response is, 'when I have time.' Anything I could add to popular notions of how we use our time is, without doubt, the glaringly obvious. So I will not. The only comment I will make is; it is more about how we use time than about how little there is available.

For the one or two readers of this page I hope you had a wonderful Holiday. Do you make new year resolutions? Was Christmas more about the giving than the receiving? Do you look forward to the new year as an opportunity to make yourself and your community better? There will be many articles in the media (whatever your favorite form) about resolutions and the keeping of goals. Did anyone ever tell you setting goals is a bad idea? Most pundits will tell us why we fail in achieving our resolutions and my experience reveals few will tells us how to do a better job of realizing them. There is no harm in trying to reach for the brass ring, but make the steps achievable and measurable. A little dose of self discipline will not hurt. There are plenty of books on the topic. Just go to Powell's web site and search books for "goal setting."

One of my favorite Christmas time activities is to watch any one of the several versions of "A Christmas Carol." Many folks think the 1936 version is the best, my favorites are more modern. In fact my youngest daugther (a high school english teacher) discussed this very topic a few weeks ago. The late George C. Scott delivers a visceral gritty Scrooge and the most recent Patrick Stewart version is truer to Dicken's story. Stewart's classical training in Shakespear is evident in his performance. Both are supported with excellent performances from the various actors in those roles. The production qualities are superior. Although these aspects are interesting conversation the story is more compelling. Dicken's wrote at a time when life was "dirty, bad, nasty, and short." Class divisions were deep in jolly old England. Circumstances in American cities (as they existed then) would have been similar. We see Scrooge's transformation and why it happened. Dickens made it easy for us. What is less plain is the message of Christmas; the gifting of what we have to others. Scrooge hints at it, with the purchase of the turkey and his treatment of Cratchit the day after Christmas. As children we learn Christmas means toys and treats, but somewhere along the line this child learned it also means giving. I am just not very good or prodigious about it. So as the Ghost of Chritmas Present taught Scrooge teach your children it is the giving that is best and always will be the joy of Christmas. Keep this all year long.

For someone who has never been published, maybe my daughters will do it posthumously, I have produced newsletters for a business I owned, written the annual Christmas letter (which amazingly enought many friends and family look forward to receiving) and compose this blog but I wish I could write more. One thing I have not spoken to in this blog, but is available in the other rags mentioned, is service to community. Community means different things but I will provide a few examples. Perhaps it is the little league program your children are involved in, or it your work place, or neighborhood. Maybe it is something larger and grander than any of those. Frequently it is only those people within earshot. Maybe I am anachronistic but it seems language has deteriorated, people are lazy about developing their vocabulary, or our culture encourages the loud and disagreeable. I was walking through The Rack the other day looking for shoes and a young man who appeared well groomed with an attractive wife or girl friend trailing behind, let out a familiar expeletive over some issue about pricing. I did not expect his remark and I mumbled something about kissing his mother with that mouth. I am sure he heard me as instead of apoligizing he hissed another expletive and walked in the other direction. My point is I was in his community, and even though we may have sympathized with his frustration, surely he could have found a better, more interesing, and less vulgar way of expressing himself. This is an example of what I mean by community. His expression, although not the best example of how to leave those around you better than you found them, did make me think about myself as I pass people on the street and my own behavior and how it may be perceived. Is there something different you can do in your community to make it better?

Best wishes for the New Year.

Time and Time Again

My daughter says I should post more, and when I started this I thought I might. Time has just not been friendly. It seems it slips by rather quickly, or perhaps I just did not manage it correctly. Whatever the reason, or the excuse, it is something I notice more people complain about, yet I have not heard any reasonable solutions. It is a problem we, the builders and maintainers of our society have created, and yet we cannot control it. Rarely do we (my wife and I) get home before 7:00 at night and we are out the door by 7:00 in the morning. The weekends fly by and I wonder how it was we managed to get the girls to their activities when they were children. We should have more time now and we have less. Now this is not intended to be a complaint indeed I feel pretty good about how I have leveraged time. I went back to school to complete my masters degree, that takes considerable time, but I am not confident once completed I will suddenly have a vacuum to fill. Maybe it is just a lack of energy, maybe there is more time than I think and it is just not used the way it should. Sitting in front of the TV contemplating hell* is no way to spend an evening, yet I imagine many people do just that. So I find time to enter the blogoshere (did I spell that right?) or pick up one of my books piling up on the reading list and quietly read.

Ok that takes care of this evening, we will see what happens this weekend.

(*My vision of hell is strapped into a chair watching an unending stream of QVC or some other shop at home network.)

Avoiding Last Minute Trouble

A long time ago a boss told me to follow the five P's: Prior Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance. This applies to everything in life. The metaphor in this case is sailing (for life). Review my last post on The Annual Annual and the zen of sailboat maintenance.



I had struggled with making repairs to the electrical system which had started a couple of years ago with a broken alternator cable. The boat did not get used much last summer as I had spent a good sized portion of available time off to move my daughter to the nether regions of the desert above LA so she could begin her teaching career. So more energy was spent this year addressing problems that should have been discovered last year, but not tackled until we drew too close to wanting to use the boat this year. I hope this is clear. In any event other electrical problems were discovered, but the radio worked, the cabin lights worked, and the Captain and First Mate decided, 'well, we would not travel at night.' An unusual plan for us based on past years departure times.



I did feel a pressing need to at least check the engine oil (a Honda 8 horse motor) figuring I could actually change the oil somewhere in a quiet anchorage later in the week. Upon removing the oil fill cap, which was difficult and required a pair of channel lock pliers, I could not return the cap to its rightfull position as the threads had stripped! Checking with the Honda dealer at the end of the road he said, "don't have it; gotta' order it, maybe in Tuesday," and returned to doing whatever it was he was doing. This was Saturday and I still had 4+ hours of down river travel. I went back to the boat discouraged. The First Mate (actually the Admiral) made a couple of calls and finds one at a dealer in the far flung reaches of Beaverton a thirty or so minute drive westward. 'OK', I thought, 'an hour round trip and viola we are on our way and maybe reach our destination before dark.' Problem was I decided to change the oil anyway so we moved the boat to the neighboring slip (the occupants decided to go out for a few hours) so the motor would be close to the dock. Carefully planning how I could trap the oil without spilling any I strategically placed a container below the drain screw, proceeded to turn the screw counter clockwise (lefty lucy) and watched the screw disappear into the 30 foot depth below me of the Columbia River!. Careful not to let any oil drip I cursed profusely which drew the attention of the First Mate/Admiral and she quickly placed another call to the distant dealer for a screw. To our relief he thought one was available and we would not have to dismount the motor as the Captain could not find the key to the lock on the cable wrapped around the handle of the engine and the stantion post.



Needless to say by the time we drove to Beaverton, went to the wrong business at the other end of town, found the place we needed to be in the first place, drove back to the boat reassembled the pieces, added oil and drank a beer we had to decide whether or not to leave.



More later-I am going to bed.

The Annual Annual

Owning a boat, which stays in the water, is the same as owning a second home. It requires that much attention, and when you do not provide it catching up doubles the work. If however, you enjoy the work as much as using the vessel then the labor is one of love. Each year my spouse and I take a trip down river and back, although we have missed some years, the week spent sailing, anchoring under the stars or tied to a dock in a quiet moorage lets us forget about the stress of being on dry land. Combined with particpation from good friends accompanying us in their various and sundry vessels, we would have had to work too hard to not have a good time.



Our vacations, such as they were or are, have been spent at the in-laws beach house or aboard the boat. These are the trips my two daughters remember and ones they still recall with joy and good humor. Each trip represents its own adventure, running from minor groudings to sinking folboats, miscellaneous injuries, mechanical breakdowns, and blown out sails and these only add to the exageration of the story telling. Blessed with a family who enjoyed these adventures as much as my self, I can tell you nothing could have been added by making a trip across the country or visiting an expensive theme park.

I shall look forward to sharing these times with future generations and friends who only are now beginnning to find the time to ride along.

Hope and Expectation

Some years ago a boss told me to strike "hope" from my vocabulary -- either it was going to happen or is was not. I probably failed to report properly, or the outcome of the report included a hoped for outcome and he took issue. This guy took issue with everything, however. The lesson was not forgotten. Hoping for an outcome is not the result of planning, executing a plan, and monitoring its progress. Systems type people manage an expected outcome. They use Six-Sigma or whatever to make sure the goal is reached. There is no hope about it; there is an expectation. By their very nature, and indeed definition, the difference in the two words are clear. Hope implys a certain amount of abdication of control where expectation insists on a managed outcome.



How much of this can we transfer to our everyday life? Will Smith, one of America's great talents (I believe), said all you have to do is; ' do the math.' Many successful people profess having had a plan and the plan is what got them to where they are. From my own poor experience of traveling through life without a plan I must accept the notion having a plan would have produced better results. That said, hope must still be an integral part of our emotional toolbox. Experience has taught me, even when I do an effective job of planning, a thousand and one unknown variables can interfere with success. Perhaps it is something you get used to in sales, but in the end we must still hope, our expected outcomes will be the result of good planning, thought and prayer.

First Timer

Recently, in class, the importance of creativity as a force in our life and work was revealed. The value of play long since forgotten for most to our childhood past is replaced by the demands of being grownups, parents, wage earners, and mortgage payers. Recognition of my own displacement of play cut deep, particularly as I recalled one daughter suggesting my childhood was the last Huck Finn childhood. Perhaps there will be more on that later. For now, creativity is writting. It is something I enjoy and something I do far too little. The hard drive is filled with unfinished novellas. Spiral notebooks abound with scratch from various periods in my life.

With all that said I expect this blog to be a reflection on journey, a sharing of this place on the trip, and fair recounting of events which swirl around us all.