Friday, February 29, 2008

Letting go, without the claw marks

This article (and the more complete story from The New York Times) describes a common problem - when we try to keep too many options open, we wind up suffocating the good options with just too much noise. If you have seven good options for things to do, you really have none. You'll spend so much time keeping the options open that you'll not complete any of them.

One of the tangible ways that this problem surfaces is in the clutter that fills our lives. It's doubtful that I'll need even one six-foot, two-prong extension cord. I certainly don't need the seven or eight that are hanging on nails or tucked in the bureau in the cellar. At most, I need one USB hub, but which one of the three should I keep? I never wear slippers, but that pair in the closet is in pretty good shape and may have been my grandfather's. It used to cost $100 or more a year to get 100MB of online storage. Now, Google gives me 6GB for free, so I can watch my usage climb to nearly 400MB because it's so much easier not to delete messages. Do I really need that email about the frost warning in September 2004? No, I don't. Did I just delete it? Of course not.

A dozen dog years

The temperature dipped below zero this morning and it's still only five above at this writing. This froze the snow in the back yard, making it easier for Marley to chase the squirrels away from the bird feeder. He has never, to our knowledge, caught a squirrel, but the exercise is good for him. Not bad for a 12-year-old dog. Happy Birthday, Marley.

He enjoys being outside and, then, in turn, he'll settle down in front of the fire, using the brick hearth as a pillow:

Thursday, February 28, 2008

No one escapes Google, sort of

I haven't spoken to one of my cousins in nearly 25 years. We just haven't had much to say and have done a good job not saying it.

With a bit of Googling, I was able to find out where she's living. The map from Google suggests, however, that she probably still doesn't have much to say.

This week's RoasterBoy playlist

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

The shortest distance between two points is impossible

Sandra has gone to Chicago for a few days to visit with her cousin who is recuperating from back surgery. Marley and I drove Sandra to the Manchester airport this morning. We encountered some light rain and snow en route, but not enough to slow us down. The path to Manchester, somewhat north of northeast, required a zig-zag of north and east and even a bit northwest. Using Google directions, we arrived in good order and with plenty of time to spare. Her flight even arrived in Chicago a few minutes ahead of schedule.

When we worked for Digital, Sandra and I would regularly travel to the Nashua facility on Spit Brook Road, the first exit over the Massachusetts border. On occasion, we'd also travel a bit further, to Merrimack, for meetings or training. Southern New Hampshire, particularly in and around Nashua, is filled with strip malls and low industrial buildings. When the New Hampshire primaries were going on, the nation was presented with images of quaint small towns with a white-steepled Congregational church on the common. Those images are there, but you have to make your way past malls such as this:




















Leaving the airport wasn't as easy as arriving. The maze of roads and odd directions befuddled me and soon I was on a plain road with high snow banks, as though I was on a bodsled run. They'd received a lot more snow in yesterday's storm and in the storms before. I passed old farms and new McMansions. There was, as expected, the usual paucity of street signs. With the low clouds, it was impossible to get a sense of direction. I kept driving until I reached a roadway that had some directions. I briefly passed through Milford (where my father was born) and then bent back southeast so that I could go southwest again.

What we learn from the bottom of the box

As I've mentioned before, one of our winter project is to clear out our study. We've lived in this house for more than 25 years. Stuff related to household business, books, computers, and cute stuff winds up here. Those readers who worked with me may remember the fake coffee-spill-on-a-floppy-disk that I had in my office for many years. That kind of stuff filled half a shelf.

Yesterday I found an American Express business card, cut in half, with my name and my former company, Longview Consulting. The card dates from 1995. I did a brief stint, probably two or three jobs, helping people get set up with web sites, teaching people how to use the very primitive web publishing tools that were available at the time.

I enjoyed the variety of tasks and customers that came from these consulting gigs. What I disliked and what got me out of the consulting business is that I am a lousy salesman. In order to sell, you basically have to be willing to walk up to people and say, "Will you be my friend?" and then not get too dejected when they turn you down. In the consulting world, the ability to sell yourself is much more important than your technical chops.

BTW, I chose the name Longview because, at the time, a family named Long lived across the street from us.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Family athletics

On Sunday, we took Krista to trapeze lessons:



Last weekend, we attended a regional swim meet where Lily's team was competing and Adam was a time-keeper:





































This photo of Joe driving to the basket appeared in last week's Landmark:

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