My Ring Has Three Diamonds

Driving Rant

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Tue, 20 Nov 2012 00:15:00 +0000

Every once in a while I find myself ranting about the way other people drive. I've been doing that again of late so it seems like a good time to get a few gripes off my chest.

Today is a prime example: It’s been raining out pretty much since seven this morning. In Ohio it is a law that when windshield wipers are needed, one should also have their head lights on. Also, it is law to have ones lights on between sunrise and sunset. [From the Ohio Digest of Motor Laws, page 64: Lights must be displayed between sunset and sunrise and during any periods of rain, snow, fog or other unfavorable atmospheric conditions regardless of the time of day. Lights also need to be used at any time when natural light conditions do not make it possible to clearly see objects 1,000 feet ahead. Lights must be used

whenever windshield wipers are used.]

Even though both of these two conditions were in effect I noticed several people with no lights on at all. This seems to happen all the time around here and I always wonder why this is. I will be the first to admit that sometimes headlights really don’t help me to see much better… but there is no doubt that it helps others to see me! And I think that’s the point. Headlights help drivers see other vehicles - plain and simple.

I've heard people make arguments that one can save fuel by not turning on one’s headlights. This is technically true of course, because it takes energy to power lights and we all know that power is not free. However the amount of fuel saved by not running one’s headlights is so small, even over a years’ time, that it is almost immeasurable. In fact, one jackrabbit start will erase any savings one might have gotten from driving sans lights. It is much more effective to drive smoothly. Do not race from one stoplight or intersection only to stop at the next for example. Regularly coasting up to a red light or stop sign helps a bunch.

Besides, would you want someone to pull out in front of you because they didn't see you because you were trying to save a buck on gas? Sure, it most likely will still be their fault, failure to yield and all that, but filling out accident reports is not a fun way to spend your commute … and should someone die, that someone’s death will haunt you the rest of your life. If you also happen to be stupid enough to go without wearing your seat belt, the person that dies could be you (or your spouse or your child…)

Another thing I've had to deal with lately is the person – probably a gas saver again – who accelerates so slowly up a freeway on ramp that they are not yet matching the speed of traffic when the merge lane runs out. This will screw people up in two ways.

First, if you happen to be the unlucky one entering the highway at rush hour behind someone like this you will find yourself on their bumper with no further place to go, and no way to merge correctly into traffic. Now you are stuck trying to find a spot in the right lane that will accommodate two cars, and at that, the traffic in that lane is going to have to adjust their speed or change lanes.

Of course if you are part of the traffic on the freeway that is the other way you get screwed. You will have to slow down (and hope the person behind you notices) to not hit the driver merging on at a much slower speed. Traffic will pile up in the right lane and due to the slow and go effect this causes, all those people on the freeway will use more gas than if they were able to continue at a steady pace.

Along the same lines as that is the person who plants themselves in the left freeway lane going the speed limit – if the rest of us are lucky! I don’t know if they think they are “enforcing” the limit, are afraid to go faster themselves, or are merely clueless, but they are causing needless congestion and provoking risky and/or angry behavior from other motorists. The left lane is for passing and is usually traveling above the speed limit. If you need to pass, accelerate to the speed that lane is traveling, and get back over as soon as you are safely able to. When traffic is heavy, drivers may stay in the left lane, as long as they are going with the flow of traffic and not setting a slower pace for themselves and everyone stuck behind them. Law enforcement spokespersons themselves have said they would rather the left lane travel above the limit than have someone blocking the free flow of traffic by planting themselves there.

So if you are trying to save gas by driving in one or more of the ways I just described, you are effectively causing the rest of us to use a lot more fuel by disrupting the smooth flow of traffic. If your real goal is to help the country use less gas, you are doing it wrong.

Though I suspect the real reason people drive this way is simply to save themselves a buck, the rest of us be damned.

And that is the saddest part of all.

The Year of Milestones

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Tue, 30 Oct 2012 00:19:00 +0000

I was thinking the other day that 2013 will be a year of milestones. 2013 will see my son, the older child, graduate from college with a degree in Engineering Management. I am so proud of all that he has accomplished!

It has not been an easy road. At 4 years old, I found myself in a shouting match with him that ultimately lead to my losing most of his respect. And as for me, horrified at what had happened, I all but checked out as his dad.

He has always been very bright - From a very early age he was able to hold intelligent conversations with adults. But he also was diagnosed as Oppositional-Defiant with ADD and it was with the behaviors associated with these things that I barely was able to cope. Then he became interested in swimming and it really started to make a difference for all of us. His energies were focused, and the rigorous schedule kept us directed in a (mostly) common direction. As I have written about before, exercise really makes a difference in ones attitude - and he was no exception. I would be remiss not to mention too how his first swim coach taught him about things that I had failed to teach: Positive attitude, good self image, respect for authority, work ethic, responsibility... Things I am grateful for as he helped my boy find the right path when I had failed so miserably. So over time I eventually managed to learn how to be a better father to him, and things moved on.

By the time he moved away to college I knew that he was mostly ready for this new page in his life and I also knew that I was going to miss him. We had become more like the father and son I thought we should be, but I had hoped for more. With him moving away I worried that the relationship we had so recently been able to build would crumble away. Happily though, and really to my surprise actually, we continued to progress in our relationship. He began to seek my advise, and I showed him the respect he deserved when he made decisions for himself.

All of that adversity and he has managed to turn out to be quite the young man!

Not to be outdone by her big brother, my daughter will also be a graduate this coming Spring! She well on her way into her senior year at high school and I am every bit as proud of the young lady's accomplishments! Perhaps it goes without saying, but she has had some rocky roads to travel too. Being the second child, and having an older brother who was very articulate at an early age, her language skills did not develop "on schedule". By the second grade she was in remedial reading and struggling with school in general. Unfortunately, because of the attention her brother demanded, she often was left to fend for herself and her development faltered. Once we discovered what was going on with her brother though, she benefited from what we learned, and was diagnosed as ADHD at a much earlier age than her brother. We switched schools to one more appropriate for both kids and soon she was devouring books like she was making up for lost time - which I guess she was!

She also embraced physical activity: dance, gymnastics and swimming at first, but settled on dance as her passion. And that passion has lead to some really neat experiences for her. She has trained and progressed to where she can dance En Pointe and has done so in public performances put on by the dance academy where she trains. The academy is associated with a professional ballet company, and as such she has auditioned for and appeared in the annual performance of The Nutcracker each year for the last 8 years. Ballet has taught her a great deal about working with others and also how to be a mentor to those younger and less experienced than herself. To be sure I am very proud of her for her accomplishments.

But she has made me most proud for what she did when she realized that life has dealt her a different hand than what she had hoped.

Her dance schedule - dancing a full 6 days a week (7 when rehearsing for the Nutcracker) should tell you something about her dedication, passion and love for dancing. Indeed her dream is to perform as a classical ballerina with a professional company. But a meeting with the director of her dance academy left her dreams shattered. While she has a shot at becoming a successful dancer, it would be extremely unlikely for her to do so as a classical ballet dancer - she's just not built right for it. Modern ballet or straight modern dance? Probably. Even her choreography shows promise. But the goal she has had for most of her life would be a big financial drain without much hope of a fruitful outcome and so is out of reach and impractical.

So earlier I mentioned the meeting with the director of the academy - It was unbelievable the way she conducted herself during the course of this frank discussion. The director was obviously more nervous than my daughter was, and when the point was made, there was no drama or tears. Just a frank discussion about alternatives and the likely outcomes of each. She took it so well I was taken aback- And proud beyond words.

So when she graduates in the spring there will be a summer job and then college instead of further dance classes and an internship or apprenticeship in dance. Even with all the hours spent in the dance studio, late nite homework sessions, and impossible scheduling conflicts, she has managed to maintain a great grade point average at a challenging school and earned excellent ACT and SAT scores this past spring. I know she is going to do well as she continues her education and that sure makes it easier to be the dad of a teenage girl.

So both of my children are showing themselves to be quite full of potential and promise despite their parents' inability to provide a consistently stable environment in which to grow up.

And that is a huge relief for this father.

Roadside Rest

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Tue, 04 Sep 2012 03:54:00 +0000

No one would be surprised by the fact that the events of the last few years of my life have changed me. Being laid off was more than enough impetus for me to engage in some serious soul searching; add a divorce to the mix and it's a small miracle that I even recognize myself!

Recently though I have really taken a look at the way things are now. I'd like to say that this introspective was a carefully planned and perfectly timed checkpoint I had the forethought to lay out for myself some time ago. But that would be a bald faced lie! The fact of the matter is that there have been a couple incidents very recently that pretty much forced me to abandon my course and pull off to the side of the road for a much needed peek at the map.

The biggest kick in the pants came as I found myself in my boss's office having to answer some pretty pointed and difficult questions. The details are not important but the gist of the meeting is that I had not been the leader that he had expected of me. As the veteran tester on the team I was expected to maintain open communications with the project manager so that she could make decisions about release dates and other major milestones. The current project is one that was started over two years ago and unfortunately was shelved before it could be completed. On this second go round there is a definite concern that the same thing could happen again so the pressure is on to meet the scheduled delivery. Anyway, because of the scope of the testing needed, our other tester was brought on to assist. Somehow, during a team meeting I found myself a passenger rather than the driver or at least in the shotgun seat where I aught to be. Some expectations were mentioned that I had not planned on, and the other tester spoke up and predicted that testing would take two weeks longer than planned. The project manager, though concerned stated that she would push the date. I said nothing. Soon after that I was asking those difficult and pointed questions.

Very shortly after that my daughter and I were discussing our weekend plans. I suddenly remembered that we had tickets to a special ballet performance that night and went to pull them from the drawer where I had stashed them. As I was checking the performance time I made the disappointing discovery that the show had in fact been the weekend before! We had missed the event an I hadn't had even the slightest clue that I had messed up the schedule that badly.

I hate disappointing people and in the period of a few days I had managed to really let down two of the most important people in my life - my boss and my daughter. Fortunately I managed some reasonable level of damage control and things will be OK, but there really was something that needed addressed, and soon.

It was not difficult to see what was going on, actually. I had become as a passenger in my own life rather than the driver. I was sightseeing, just watching the world go by... When the scenery was nice I enjoyed the view. But when the view out the window became unpleasant - like the run down section of town, or the drought stricken countryside - I didn't change course to find a better path but rather just went along for the ride expecting things to change on their own.

This, I think, is a sign that I have succeeded in relaxing and am getting comfortable with this particular phase of my life. Right from the start of my single again life I was hyper vigilant about everything - My calendar, my daughter's schedule, the bills, the budget, my work schedule, even my free time was carefully scheduled and planned out. I checked and rechecked the calendar. I ran simulations of cash flow scenarios. I kept multiple calendars in case something was lost or erased by mistake. It was a full time job. But it fulfilled a purpose too. It helped me keep my mind off the mind numbing pain my heart was in at having my world so radically changed.

That's how it started anyway, but the pain is over now. And do you know what? I miss it!

Well, not the pain exactly, but the fact that I felt something. Now there is just an empty place where my relationship used to be - It's a yawning void that was once filled with love for the woman I always thought I would spend the rest of my life with. It's now a vast emptiness that very recently overflowed with heartbreak, anguish, and regret. All of that is gone: No more love. No more anguish. It's just nothingness now. Some would argue that this is worse than the pain and heartbreak and I think I would agree. In fact I think the fear of that nothingness is part of what kept us together for so long.

So it turns out that just like a pendulum I had swung away from the extreme of hyper vigilance and was very uncomfortably swinging toward the extreme of not giving a shit. It makes sense. Being hyper vigilant takes too much energy and therefore I couldn't keep it up. But without that level of effort comes down time. Too much down time means there is not enough busy work to push away the loneliness... too much time to dwell on the void where love used to be...

Ah, but not giving a shit is not only effective in forgetting one's loneliness, it is so much easier and more fun! I started to push responsibilities to the extremes of my day. Getting up and going to work remained fairly normal. After work? Just TV, Movies, and video games - no seriousness except almost as an afterthought. Bills and stuff like that were dealt with, but even that was starting to slip. And it turns out so was work. The swing of the pendulum was affecting that as well.

So now that I have taken stock of the situation I know what I must do. I have to remain in the driver's seat of my life. I have to get back on the road to healing and that includes dealing with the void that's been left in my heart. As I see it, there are many people and things in this world worth caring about, and they can take up some of that room for now. But I will always reserve space for someone special. Someone that I may not have even met yet, but someone that I believe is meant to fill my heart with the love and companionship that I so dearly miss.

So I think I'll pull out the GPS, put a damper on the pendulum and forge ahead with a more tempered and healthy level of attention to the details of life. For there is something else I have re-found within myself - Faith. And because I have faith, there's Hope.

And that's enough to keep me going.

Another Milestone That Wasn't - But Then Was

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Thu, 02 Aug 2012 03:09:00 +0000

Most of today I've been aware of a sort of far off unsettled feeling - It's really hard to articulate... Some folks might say they felt a little "off", like being slightly out of time with the world. But that doesn't seem to fit what I am feeling because this is more subtle than that. Others might talk about a "nagging feeling", something they can't quite put their finger on yet real enough to make itself known. This is different than that too somehow. I guess you could say it's a fairly clear thought, even if it is almost imperceptible. Unlike something that only nags but never materializes, this is more real. I can put my finger on it, but if that's it, it's totally irrelevant now - but the fact remains:

Today would have been my 25th wedding anniversary.

It's not what you think though. I know that because it's not what I would have thought even! Of all the things that someone in this circumstance might be troubled by - Shattered dreams, regrets, longing for what once was, wanting a second chance - none of them are in my thoughts today. No, I've put that stuff in the past for the most part. But yet something in me keeps faintly, nearly imperceptibly, unsettling me. So I had to stop and really dwell on it for a moment. And then I understood. My little "far off unsettled feeling" is caused by a call to do something that I have no intention of doing. It's not expected, it's not appropriate; It should totally be a non-issue. After 23 years of anniversaries, and this only the second year since divorcing, I just discovered that somewhere deep in the recesses of who I am, there is still that "husband coding" that is trying to be heard, trying to remind me that I have to get something for our anniversary!

Wow! Really? Seriously?

Well, yeah. It's part of who I am after all. For me, being a loving husband (and caring father) is the greatest thing a man can be. I really had no idea what this meant for many, many years, but eventually after 23 years of working at marriage, I think I figured it out and started to make great progress. In any case, I do know that at least a bit of my heart was in the right place from the very beginning because, as naive and arrogant as I was, I got some important things right. One of those things was that I knew that dates were very important. - Birthdays, Anniversaries, milestones of one kind or another - and I never forgot one.

Having figured that out today though was not much of a relief. Because along with discovering the source of that unsettled feeling, I uncovered a deep sense of sadness that I was not able to shake. And taking another few minutes to understand the source of that sadness - that I missed having a partner to love - lead finally to the heart of the matter.

I'm lonely.

But that's OK. I needed to work through a lot to get to this point. I had to shake off all the stuff that was, and embrace all that is. I had to come to terms with the fact that I had been in a bad marriage and heal all the wounds that cut so deeply... and to forgive the ones who inflicted them.

I feel better knowing that I have made it to this place.

Maybe, could it be... perhaps... it's time to get on with my life?

Inspiration

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Tue, 10 Jul 2012 04:14:00 +0000

Wait, something must be askew here! Another post within hours of my last post? After months and months of nothing from me? What gives?

In a word, Inspiration!

I just finished reading all of the posts in my sister-in-law's blog. Well that's what she used to be, but I guess now that I'm no longer married to her husband's sister, she's not an in-law anymore. But she is still special to me. Actually, both she and her husband, my former brother-in-law, are very special to me, and I admire them greatly.

While there are many reasons for my admiration, the primary reason is for how they are raising their two children. Their examples as parents is exemplary and I admire them because I know how difficult being a parent is. Frankly, I was not very good at being a dad. I don't mean to give the impression that reading the blog tonight made me realize that fact. To the contrary, I already knew that I was not that great of a father, and I am ashamed at having been only fractionally as good a parent to my two kids as they are to their amazing two children.

No, reading the blog helped me realize that I have actually been doing a much better job at being a father of late, especially to my daughter, and that made me feel good.

Anyway, the blog very beautifully relates many milestones in my niece and nephew's lives through anecdotes and stories told in a warm and loving style that warms the heart and cheers the soul. It was like I was there visiting for a while! I was surprised at how much I miss them all and, frankly astonished at how much the two kids have grown!

I was compelled to write.

So these folks who I have known for so long, who are no longer related to me but are so important to me and who I still consider family - What do I call them? I think Brother and Sister will do. (I hope they agree!)

My parents didn't have a daughter, so in many ways Happy Blogger, you have been like the sister I never had - So thank you, Sister, for sharing your thoughts and stories for they reminded me of how special your family is, especially your two precious little ones.
And thank you, Happy Blogger's Husband, Brother, for setting such a great example for all the fathers out there; For being a much better father to your children than your father was to you. The world would be a much better place if all fathers followed in even a few of your formidable footsteps.
And thank you Niece and Nephew for being a most excellent example of the potential that the next generation has to offer. I hope we who have come before you haven't totally messed it up before you get a chance at the world.

Moving forward, looking back

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Tue, 10 Jul 2012 01:10:00 +0000

Blogger's note: This post has taken several months to write with countless starts, stops, edits and revisions. You'll probably understand why it was so difficult once you read it. Even though I feel that it is not as cohesive as I'd like, it's going to be posted as is. So bear with me if you find it difficult to read.

There are many things to think about and an ocean of extreme emotions to deal with when one is preparing to be "single again", and without a doubt each persons experience is unique to them. For me, there were two very distinct and competing emotions with which to deal with.

Fortunately, early on, I was actually pretty excited about living on my own. After 23 years of living with someone who really wasn't fully invested in my emotional well being, and indeed in the later years actually tended to suck much of the life out of life for me, the prospect of being rid of that burden was extremely attractive. I would be able to pass my time doing what I loved to do but had given up for one reason or another over the years - bicycling, watching movies, playing video games, reading and ... well, you get the idea. Before any of that could occur though, I would have to find a place to live.

I started looking at apartments and soon noticed that there were a handful of places along the same street as my daughter's school. I called a couple of the posted numbers and lined up a couple showings. Now my daughter's school is also my Alma mater, and is located in my old neighborhood. When I made arrangements with one landlord she immediately recognized my name - she had known my mother and we soon worked out that her daughter and I were classmates! Small world story, yes, but their apartment was the best one available in the area, the price was right, and my daughter would be able to get herself to and from school as it was literally right across the street. I found it comforting to live in my old neighborhood and be renting from people that new my mother and who would occasionally stop by and chat about how things were when she was alive.

It was soon after securing my apartment that I stumbled upon another very unexpected source of excitement and distraction - shopping! I hadn't expected it at all, and actually had assumed I would hate having to do it. But I found I really enjoyed picking out new things for my new place. Perhaps it was the spending of a bunch of money, knowing that my soon to be Ex was essentially paying for half of everything, or perhaps it was being totally free to get what I wanted without having to answer to anyone else. Whatever the reason, I got through many of what otherwise would surely have been very tough days by shopping. It's not like I was buying crazy stuff either - dishes, glasses, silverware, sheets, food - pretty normal stuff actually. But each purchase was mine to make and only had to please me. It helped me move closer to being me again.

Earlier I mentioned several pastimes that I was eager to get back into now that I would have the chance, but there was one in particular I was really anticipating: Bicycling! Now that I think about it, having stopped in 1991 I had forgone it for the longest time. That was the year we had our house built and our son was born - As I recall, it just seemed like there wasn't enough time for riding anymore. Anyway, my new apartment was within a short ride of my favorite bike trail - another huge benefit of the place cause I would not have to pack up the bike and drive to a place I felt safe riding, being unsure how steady I would be in the cleats after almost twenty years - but as fate would have it I would have to wait even more to find out. I moved in January and since I am not a year round cyclist, biking would have to wait longer yet! So I found my old gear packed up in a box, got my old bike tuned up, and bought a new helmet. Everything was made ready for the spring and I couldn't wait!

On my first ride, everything was perfect! The weather was beautiful - just a little bit on the cool side, but sunny with no wind. My bike was tuned up, the tires were at full pressure and all my gear was ready to go. Eagerly I donned the full bike garb and stepped into the cleats - I was off! Oh, I was a little unsteady at first, but I was pleasantly surprised at how quickly my confidence grew. Soon I was cruising down the trail, reveling in the sense of freedom and enjoying the weather just like I remembered from so long ago. But as is often the case, reality quickly proved to be much different than the expectation. It had been a loooong time since I had last been on a bike, and even longer since I had set out on the bike trail. My enjoyment had turned to pain! My legs hurt, my arms hurt, my neck hurt, and I was sucking wind like one might high in the mountains. It about killed me, and I don't mean in the physical sense but more in the emotional sense. I was devastated. I was sure this activity would be my salvation but the awful reality of the moment was that I was hating every crank of the pedals, and cursed every gentle slope. Like an idiot I pressed onward as I always went the end of the trail before turning back. Of course the trail had gotten longer in the intervening years, but that didn't matter at the time, I had set out to make it, and I was determined to do it.

By the time I had turned around and headed back, every sort of rider, from the youngest to the oldest were blowing by me like I was standing still... and I had to stop several times to stretch, catch my breath and get a drink... not at all like what I imagined. But the worst was looming at the very end of my ride: The last mile - the mile from the trail to my place - was up a very steep, relentlessly long hill...

I walked it.

That night I was in tears. I was disappointed, I had embarrassed myself, I hurt, and I was alone...I hated my favorite pastime. I swore I would never do it again.

But I realized the day after that first ride, even though my sore muscles wouldn't let me forget the ordeal they had endured, that I was not a quitter. This was not going to turn out to be just another bad thing that was happening to me. This was a challenge, sure, but one that I could overcome. It was something that I could do to work out the frustrations of dealing with divorce in a constructive manner. Something that would improve my health, raise my spirits, and occupy my time.

Somehow I forced myself to go out again. Then again.

And steadily I got better.

I got better at riding - improving my speed and endurance - but even more importantly, I got better emotionally as well. And that is no small thing.

Bicycling saved me.

And I mean that more literally than perhaps is comfortable to admit. Remember that other emotion I alluded to way up at the top of this post? The excitement of being single again very, very often let down directly into a deep, soul crushing depression the likes of which I never could have imagined.

It nearly killed me.

And not in the figurative sense like overdoing a bike ride nearly killed me. This was more sinister, and really could have resulted in my early demise...

One day I came home from work totally spent. It had been a difficult day - work was frustrating and I was depressed about it because I had no one to talk to about it. So I got depressed about why I had no one to talk to, and that depressed me more, and there was no one to talk to about that either and... well, that's the vicious death spiral of depression.

So I arrived at my apartment, pulled into the garage, closed the door, leaned my head back in my seat and let out a huge sigh. It was a moment of resignation, of giving up trying to deal with everything, of succumbing to the weighty burdens that had overwhelmed me. It was a moment of realization that I had somehow made it through the roughest day thus far, but I was still faced with a long evening alone with my thoughts. I took a deep breath and as I let it slowly out again, I sort of shut down. My eyes closed....

I have no memories of what I thought about or even how long I was there, but there I was, in a closed garage, sitting in my car

...with the engine running...

What is that sound? What do I smell?

F#$K!

I was furious! What the hell was I doing!

I turned off the car and got out of that garage as fast as I could. Once inside I got a drink of cold water and calmed my nerves. Then I grinned! I think I laughed a little actually - cause I knew then and there that I was not about to give up on myself. I had to much to look forward to! And one of those things was riding. I quickly changed into my riding gear and set off on one of the best rides ever. I had reserves of strength and endurance that made me feel 20 again! I worked out my frustrations, leaving everything on the trail.

I arrived back home totally spent, but totally content as well. I understood then that, because I had been going through a tough stretch at work I had not bothered to go out riding in the past couple weeks. That meant that I was missing out on the benefits of exercise, one of which is elevating the mood.

That was the ride of my life. And not because I made it up that hill at the end in record time, (I really did!) But because I knew that, just like taking up biking again, I could work through being divorced - I would survive.

Biking saved me.

Merry Christmas!

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Sun, 25 Dec 2011 14:53:00 +0000

This is my second Christmas as a divorcé and while the number of gifts under the tree is small, the meaning of the day is more powerful than ever. Because this holiday is not all about giving material gifts, it is much more. It is a time when we focus on others.Whether through the giving of a gift, the sending of a card, or even a phone call from across the country we take the time to reach out to others to connect to let them know that they are loved. But more importantly than that, Christmas is a powerful reminder that we are loved by God.

I am loved by God!

And so are you...

Merry Christmas

Truth Found The Light Of Day

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 00:27:00 +0000

Wham!

The words hit me. There was a kind of tunnel vision effect. Time slowed down. I was enveloped in a kind of quiet buzzing and my vision blurred... Soon I realized that I was furiously angry: How could you say that to me now? I'm unemployed and going through the worst time in my life and you choose this moment to tell me that?

The words came like daggers to my heart.

A mere five minutes before I had been asked to sit on the couch for a minute cause "we needed to talk". Not exactly a common event between my wife and I but this being exceptional times, not all that alarming to me at the time. Then everything went sideways. What do you mean by "Done"? Did I misunderstand you? What do you mean exactly? My wife of 22 years just told me that our marriage is over. Been over for a while in fact.

Something not entirely new, yet it was...

This was not actually the first time the subject had been brought up between us. On two or three other occasions my wife had expressed her unhappiness with our relationship. There was the time she went out for drinks and conversation with a friend from work without telling me. They did nothing more than hold hands, but I felt betrayed, inadequate, and ashamed the same as if it had been a more carnal affair. On another occasion she spent the weekend in a hotel to reflect and write. She came back seemingly having arrived at the conclusion that she loved me but needed more from me. On still another occasion I was banished from the house for a few days, which I spent at my Brother's place, then in the guest bedroom for a few days until we reconciled.

This time was starkly different - Awfully, agonizingly, irrevocably different.

After each episode, there was talk about what needed to change, and each time there were exhortations that I needed to do "more" - give more help around the house, help more in the decision making, keep up better on the home repairs... etc... all things to "do". None of these things made much of a difference though. Not because of a lack of trying, no there was tremendous effort to be more of a "doer". Not that at all. Instead it was due to not one iota of it being relevant. Not even almost. It was not what I was doing or what I wasn't doing, but the fact that it was me!

Different!

After all, hadn't she told me when I came to her all broken up about being laid off that she couldn't support me in this? Yes, She had. And just like every other time I couldn't understand why she was turning against me. I chalked it up to her problems. She has a history of depression and self loathing of varying degrees. She was grossly overweight the entire time I knew her. (Not that it mattered to me, I loved her despite her problems.) She was the product of a less than ideal family situation, one where alcoholism and poverty tore her parents apart when she was pretty young. I didn't care. I just knew that I could love her through anything... But not this!

There was no denying it. I knew it in the very core of my being...

Finally my deepest most secret fears were realized. Never allowed to see the light of day before, these suddenly free terrors burst forth, shattering my reality. They were behind a new awareness that overwhelmed me like an ocean wave that knocks one down and pounds you into the sand leaving you dazed, half drowned, and gasping for air. I suddenly knew why we were the way we were, and there was no escaping it....

We were going to separate.

Soon after that evening we sat across the table from one another enjoying our favorite dishes from our favorite Chinese buffet. We were talking, better than we usually do - heck maybe better than we ever did. The conversation was substantial, meaningful and relevant. Far from trivial, deeper, much deeper than small talk. I am keenly aware that this is probably how successful couples talk... but we are not successful. We are just the opposite. We are divorcing. Through tearful, wonderful, bittersweet words the truth is revealed. The truth that I already knew, but never knew. There was the fact that made it all finally make sense. The key to why there was always an undertone of uneasiness circling at the edges of my conscience. The bombshell that didn't surprise but that nevertheless crushed everything I had been, I was, and I hoped to be.

She did not love me.

Wham! Again the spinning, the gut wrenching feeling. My world fell away and I was engulfed in a buzzing sound like a microphone with it's jack only half plugged in amplified through headphones glued to ones head - there was no escape from the painful reality.

I was on my own.

In a tone and manner that seemed way too nonchalant, no - happy is a better word - in a way that was much to "happy", she was speaking to me from out of the chaos. As far as she could tell she never really had loved me. She loved the idea of being married, of not being alone, of belonging... but did not love me. Probably not ever. She said it again - I don't love you. It was obvious it was not repeated for my benefit, but instead it seemed to be for her own benefit, to be sure she had actually spoken the words. Words that had never been allowed to pass from her lips, but that had burned inside of her for a very long time.

And though I didn't understand it at the time, thus began my second life.

The Saga Continues

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Mon, 07 Mar 2011 04:26:00 +0000

Loosing ones job is one of life's most stressful events. My experience certainly was no exception. As I reread the last few posts here, I realize that they were written by a different me. Thinking of this one in particular, I was at a point where I had to force myself to look toward the positive, to minimize the hardships of the present and forget much of the immediate past. I was maybe, just barely, starting to see a glimpse of the possibilities of a new future and clinging to that feeble thought I managed to write a mostly positive post. The fact is, there was another monumental obstacle looming in my headlights. By the time I wrote that post, it had already appeared on the horizon yet that fact was completely ignored by the me that was writing back then . . .

Making good use of the resources offered by my former employer, I started to submit a lot of quality applications to numerous organizations around the city. I applied to any companies with IT openings, from corporate behemoths to mom and pops, mega hospitals and universities to clinics and elementary and middle schools. I even signed on with three or four staffing firms who each had a different focus in their client base. Every one of them received a specially tailored resume. Finding a job is a full time job, and I made the most of it.

But life sucked. It started to get more and more difficult to get out of bed in the morning. When I did get up, it became a supreme challenge to keep on task, to keep checking for new job postings and submitting resumes. Hell, it was a huge victory to stay awake at all much of the time. To this day, I wonder how folks can be successful while working at home; for me home during "work" hours became a lonely, too quiet, temptation filled, overly comfortable cell. It took herculean effort just to make it through some days because my way of dealing with the stress was to sleep. Depression is the name of the beast in this circumstance and to escape it I would succumb to the relative peacefulness of sleep.

Somehow I managed to forge ahead. I started to draw upon a source of inner strength that I didn't know I had. It was not a surge of realization or a blast of renewed confidence or even a sense of impending doom that motivated me. But rather a slow, tentative building of resolve. A gradual growth of acceptance. A well disguised building of character and wisdom - despite my tendency to wallow in self pity and victim-hood. The more I forged ahead, the more I realized that I was doing just about all someone in my position could do.

After several months I finally started to feel that maybe I was getting a little traction. It wasn't much, but was enough to help my motivation and to stave off despair. A couple staffing companies had interviewed me and felt that I had many skills they could market to employers. Paperwork was filled out and preparations were made for the jobs that would hopefully materialize. Temp jobs yes, but that means additional experience and often an offer of a full time position. But times being what they were, nothing much further happened....

At first I was sure I was hearing things. It sounded like a phone . . . my phone even. . . MY PHONE! It was RINGING!!! Leaping toward the suddenly useful device I managed to trip and nearly fall. By now the caller ID showed the name of one of the companies I had applied to and my breath caught . . I forced a deep and I hoped calming breath and answered the phone as evenly as possible. Would I be available for a pre-interview screening? Yes . . .When? Now? Of course! Out of nowhere I was completely on my game; I was strangely at ease, I oozed confidence from every pore, my answers were all concise without being terse; To the point, while still touting my skills and accomplishments. Something had clicked and it was as if I had been asked to retell my favorite story... That 45 minute call bouyed my spirits all the way through the next too weeks when I got another call. This time it was for a real interview with the hiring manager. The next few days flew by, filled with many applications and additional conversations with the staffing companies.

The day of the interview arrived and I was ready and loaded for bear. I had on a brand new suit, every hair was perfect and my answers were well rehearsed. . . and the interview was a thing of miraculous awesomeness. Like the phone interview before, I was owning this meeting with my potential boss and relishing the confidence and poise I was exhibiting despite the previous months of despair and self doubt I had endured. I can only assume that there was some divine intervention at play, because even multiple post interview critiques could not bring out anything I might have said or done wrong. Things had finally turned around for me!

Seriously, things had really taken a turn for the better because now the staffing company believed they had an opening for me too!

Holly crap!

Months of nearly fruitless job hunting had suddenly offered up two promising job prospects, and now I was faced with an unthinkable dilemma: I actually had to choose between two jobs!

I was soon scheduled for another interview, this time with the Project Manager and Architect, and also was called in for final paperwork at the staffing company. But before I made it to either of those appointments I was to be hit with the biggest bombshell yet...

March Is Here

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Wed, 02 Mar 2011 13:48:00 +0000

Well . . . It's March again and all I can say is I have mixed emotions.

I turn 47 this month.

These past couple years, I've not really enjoyed my birthdays, but that isn't to say I've dreaded them either. Instead they just sort of came and went without much thought one way or the other. I guess that is to be expected given the circumstances. . .

But this year there is a different mix of feelings to deal with. On the one hand I am getting ever closer to 50. If you have never thought about what that means, think of it this way: If you live to be 100, 50 means your life is half over. But many people don't live to be 100. In my family, many of my parents siblings have managed to live into their 90s. Mostly those final years have been good years - so that's good... But many others have struggled with illness and have left this world much earlier. My own father died before he turned 70 . . .

On the other hand, I have a lot to be thankful for, and very much to be proud of as I reach my 47th birthday. I have a couple great kids who continue to do well and have a pretty good idea of what they want to do with their lives. I have endured the monumental challenges that have tested my metle these last couple years and have found that I am stronger, more capable and more resiliant than I ever imagined. . .

And so I find that I am not really all that worried that I'm turning 47 in this month. Yes, it makes me think from time to time about how much (or how little?) of life there might be left for me, but that only serves to remind me to live the best life I can now. There is no time for worry or regrets. Worry only makes the hours drag by and amplifies the misery of every fretfull second. Dwelling on regrets is a huge time waster and may dammage the spirit and confine me to less than my potential if I start to define myself by the mistakes of the past.

Better to remember the lessons I learned from my mistakes and, using that hard won wisdom, go with renewed confidence into the day

The Lemonade Turned out Sour

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Thu, 19 Aug 2010 22:10:00 +0000

Wow! What a whirlwind! It seems inconceivable that nearly a year has passed since I last posted here. Trust me when I say a lot has happened between then and now. In fact that is an understatement of the highest order . . . There is so much to tell it is difficult to know where to start. So let me begin with this statement:

"It was a period of tremendous growth and learning for me."

Uh Oh! If you have been around the block a few times, you probably recognize that sentence is often uttered by someone who has undergone a monumental hardship, great personal tragedy, or is referring to their childhood. Well I can tell you that all are true and I hope to share some of that stuff with you here.

But let me start here. A few minutes ago, as I was rereading my last few posts, it struck me that my blogging reflects something about me that has actually made the last several months more difficult to endure. I noticed what is probably painfully obvious to you - that as I was enduring a time of great adversity I didn't post anything here. That is to say I didn't share with you what was going on with me; not in this forum - and what I realize now - not with those people closest to me in real life either. I seemed to loose the desire, no - the ability - to share my thoughts and feelings when those thoughts were filled anxiety and anguish, when those feelings were of pain, or loss, or fear; times when I felt vulnerable or needy. And that my friends is exactly what the problem was . . . is . . . well we'll see.

So . . . what's been going on with me then? Well, I'll tell you . . .

Later!

Sorry. It's getting late and I want to get a bike ride in without having to worry about it getting dark. Oh, yeah - bicycling . . one of the new, old things in my life. I've loved to ride since I got my first hand-me-down Schwinn bike back in the 70s. It was left behind by some tenants when they moved out of my Aunt's rental house. My dad had it fixed up and I learned to ride it out back of the gas station where he worked. (I ran into a parked pickup showing off that I had finally learned how to balance the thing, but had not yet learned the importance of watching where one is going!) Cycling quickly became more than a fleeting passion and after a few years of saving up lawn mowing money I bought a really nice, lightweight bike and started riding many miles on the local bike trails and in organized rides. Anyway, getting married and having kids meant moving and that turned out to be very bad for my bike riding passion. It died.

Anyway, present circumstances have allowed me to revive that passion in a big way.

And that, my friends, is a teaser as to what future blog posts may bring!

Time To Make Lemonade!

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 14:43:00 +0000

Having never lost a job before I really had no idea what to expect after getting my "60 Days". That's corporate speak for your job has been eliminated and we're giving you two months where we'll pay you to find a new one. Anyway, I gladly spent most of the first two weeks of that time helping transition my various duties to those folks and groups who would assume them after I left. I really wanted the folks I worked for to be taken care of - after all that is what I worked so hard to do every day for so many years! It was a convenient thing too, because It meant I could pretend things were relatively normal for a while longer.

But they were not.

Once I was no longer expected to appear in the office, I really started to feel like a fish out of water. It started to feel like a permanent hole had appeared in my gut. . . I stopped eating much, I lost weight. I withdrew from my family's activities, I slept a lot . . A LOT!

My dear wife was quite understandably concerned about me. But I kept reassuring her that I was fine, and just needed to adjust to my situation, just needed some time to my self. . .

The highlights of my next few weeks were attending meetings with the career counselors and HR folks at my soon-to-be-ex employer. I can say this much about the company - they do have an awesome set of resources in their HR staff. They are wonderful folks; They genuinely cared about helping me prepare for the daunting task of job hunting and I am grateful for their help.

But after a while there were no more workshops to take, no more sage advice from folks who had "been there". Even the mock interviews, reportedly handled like a pro, were behind me. Time was running out . . .

I was left with just about nothing but the hole in my gut to keep me company. It was unrelenting, unsympathetic, all consuming, and at times nearly unbearable. . . . I finally admitted to my wife how much pain I was in. It surprised me how much it hurt, to be suddenly without that which had become so much a part of the fiber of who I was. I broke down and sobbed in her arms. It was such a release - Yet I immediately regretted appearing so weak to her. I'm supposed to be the man in the house! I'm supposed to be strong! After that I retreated even further into my own personal purgatory - which of course was self defeating. I'm sure even as you read this you can visualize a swirling vortex, the spiraling down or spinning out of control that one so often hears about . . .

So then many of you will recognize what I have just described as depression. There is no other word for it. And no adequate way to describe it, so I won't try - Those readers who have experienced it know, the rest of you should feel very lucky!!!. Anyway, fortunately I recognized something was seriously wrong and reached out for help . . . And found it in the form of a therapist who made all the difference. (Again, my soon to be ex employer provided the salvation I needed in the form of free counseling services!)

I won't bore you with all the gory details, but I will say that the pivotal moment for me was when I learned that what I was experiencing was grief. A part of me had died and I needed to let it go. Funny, even though I have lost both my parents, I had never grieved so much before. Sounds strange I know, but I lost my parents slowly to disease. My father suffered a long decline due to Parkinson's disease. I got to say to him what I needed to before he passed, so it was more of a relief when his suffering was over. The same was mostly true of my mother. She had cancer, so I knew what needed to be done; we had prepared for the inevitable. So even though she did pass unexpectedly quickly, It was not devastating. In fact it was a blessing that she didn't endure much pain or suffering.

Losing my job was like some powerful malevolent force had suddenly reached into my soul and ripped out a critical piece of my very being. Indeed, it had . . .

These things I came to understand through sessions with the therapist. It sounds cliche, but putting a name to it made all the difference. I have long believed that one can not change what one does not acknowledge. In this case acknowledgment took the form of understanding that I was experiencing grief of the highest order - and fortunately I knew how to deal with that!

I am so much stronger now. I will never again define myself so much by what I do for a living. This experience has brought into sharp focus just how important my family is to me. How important my friends are to me. And for the first time, how important I am to them . . . A worth that is not defined by a paycheck or the skills that earn it, but by the Husband, father, and friend I always was to those who love and care about me.

Lemonade anyone?

Eight Years Ago Today . . .

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 17:40:00 +0000

. . . need I say more?

Probably not, though I'm still surprised at the strength of the emotions that are evoked within me each year on this day. Eight years have not healed the wounds. I have not forgotten . . . nor do I think I ever will.

Life Doles Out The Sour Citrus

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Mon, 31 Aug 2009 14:56:00 +0000

Well, here it is, the last day of August and I'm sitting in front of a monitor, fingers on keys typing away. Something I've done every day for years - a few months more than 20 years, in fact. Another typical Monday for a Married Father of two. Except the venue is different these days. Decidedly . . . homier . . . you could say.

Because, well, it is home after all.

And so in that respect everything is different about this Monday. In fact, just about everything has been different every day for the past 5 months.

It was on April 3 that things changed. Had I been more curious, I might have noticed that the meeting notice my manager had scheduled a few days prior was not quite in line with the usual meetings she scheduled with us. Longer, this one. Kinda had a vague-ish subject. And not back to back with similar meetings for the others on the team like usual. It was also scheduled in the cafeteria. It's not an unusual thing for meetings to be held there, except my manager was usually very good about finding appropriate meeting rooms . . .

I only recall a slight unease as I headed down the elevator and toward the seating area of the cafeteria. I'm sure I dismissed it as the typical twinge one feels when going to see one's supervisor one-on-one about something. See, I had just been given a raise not even a month prior. Even though the economy was tanking and Management had warned us that very few if any of us would get any raise at all - my manager was extremely pleased with me and my work performance and pulled all the strings she could to get me the maximum raise possible. She had even given me an important and challenging assignment for this year, proving her confidence in me and my ability to get the job done.

But then I caught sight of her and immediately sensed something. My smile sagged and my shoulders drooped a little. A few more steps closer and the alarm in my head started banging away at full alert. I could now see that her eyes were red as if she had been crying. This being completely out of character for my "no nonsense" boss, I was now quite shaken - Something serious was about to be related to me - My mind reeled with the possibilities . . . Was her team being disbanded? Had some or all of us been reassigned to other teams or duties? Had someone died? My thought in that instant though was that, whatever it was, I could handle it - there would be a change, but that's often a good thing . . . I had just gotten a raise . . .

Then she said something - we were going to another place so we stood up and she led the way. I remember a numbness; There was a soft buzzing sound and a vibration in my limbs. Through tunnel vision I saw people passing by in a slow motion blur. I have no idea if I was smiling or grimacing. Then, as if through thick, cold molasses the two letters naming our destination finally managed to push themselves into my consciousness: HR. We were going to HR! The alarm in my head flew from it's mount and exploded - and in a defensive spasm my thoughts were taken over with trying to think of anything I might have done to have gotten myself fired.

But before any concrete thoughts could come together in my head we arrived at a small meeting room in the HR office. The door was closed and I was being introduced to a younger man who, I noticed when I shook his hand, seemed to be much more nervous than I. He was shaking. Strangely, I was not. In fact I had suddenly grown very calm. Even as I was being told that I was being laid off, that my job had been eliminated due to market downturn and budgetary constraints, I was returning to a much more normal state of being. My normal senses returned, and I actually felt sorry for the two people now sitting facing me, their faces full of concern, sadness and regret. Sorry that they had to be the bearers of such unhappy tidings.

My first words at this news? "OH GREAT!"

Now, as I sit here in hindsight, I wish I had said something with much more force; Though I'm not sure that even the obvious "F-word" choice would have done justice to the event. . . For there was so much more I didn't know about what being laid off means.

News Flash! This Blog Is Not Dead . . .

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 13:39:00 +0000

Well, it has been a long time since I've managed to post something. And a lot has happened over the eight months since my last post - The most dramatic thing being that I was laid off in April.

I'll surely be able to get a few posts out of that, but a lot of other things have happened that are blog worthy too: Our beloved dog died. We managed to get a small vacation in. Both of our children have started a new phase in their education. A favorite Aunt passed away. I even managed to sign up for Facebook!

Look for my musings on these and other topics in the near future.

Happy Holidays!

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Fri, 02 Jan 2009 18:28:00 +0000

Well, I know it's late, but I hope you have had a wonderful Christmas and have started this new year on a happy note. . .

As for me, it has been a very good holiday season, and I'm hopeful that 2009 will prove to be a good year for everyone. . .

Guess we'll find out!

First Tuesday in November

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Mon, 03 Nov 2008 17:06:00 +0000

Well, it's finally here! The most highly anticipated day of the season will be here tomorrow! I can't wait!

Finally no more campaign adds!

Oh, and we get to vote too. . . . :)

Seriously - please exercise your constitutional right - VOTE!

A Day to Remember

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Wed, 10 Sep 2008 23:02:00 +0000

Tomorrow is September the eleventh. Another ordinary Thursday in the waning days of Summer.

Yet, no American can just think of it like that. Not now. Thanks to a tragically un-ordinary Tuesday morning, never again will the eleventh day of September be anything other than "nine-eleven": That fateful day seven years ago when our country lost it's youthful innocence, when the world suddenly seemed to become a much more hostile place, and when America's shores no longer seemed a safe refuge.

None of us will ever again be the same.

Nonetheless we must never forget the events of that horrific Tuesday. We must never forget the senseless loss of life. We must never forget the heroism of selfless firefighters and policemen. We must never forget ordinary citizens who rose to face an extraordinary occasion. We must never forget those who put themselves in harm's way to try to help others. We must never forget "Let's Roll".

Strangers helping strangers. Americans helping Americans.

I remember where I was that Tuesday years ago when I first heard the news and saw the images of smoking buildings. I remember looking to the sky and seeing no planes . . .

I remember and my soul aches with the memories. . .

We must never forget.

Being True To My School

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 16:45:00 +0000

This past Monday, my wife, our son, and I were visiting a college campus in a neighboring state. While on the campus tour, our exuberant tour guide decided to teach his school's fight song to us.

It just so happens that this particular university is the arch rival of the one from which I graduated, so I quite naturally did not participate. I couldn't lest I would feel like a traitor.

The guide of course noticed my non-participation and called me out. I rather bluntly explained that I was an alum from Rival School and damn proud of it! This of course was cause for much guffawing and laughter . . . But I didn't care. I'm loyal to my Alma Matter and proved it that day.

Unfortunately this was the cause of some embarrassment to my son, and near mortification on my wife's part. (Both of them participated in the lesson to varying degrees.)

So I ask you, dear readers: What would you have done?

Of Time and Change. . .

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Sun, 06 Jul 2008 13:35:00 +0000

I've been thinking a lot lately about college.

Our son is a Senior in High School so picking an institution of higher learning is paramount in all our thoughts these days. The selection process is daunting considering all the variables to worry about with curriculum, location, tuition, majors, demographics, and grades being constant topics of discussion.

The last couple days have been a bit different for me though.

This weekend the boy, no, young man, has been participating in a three day swim meet being held at my alma matter. Being there made me think back to my years in college. While there were two more of those years than I probably should have had (heh, that's another story) they were arguably the best years of my life - while at the same time being pivotal in my becoming the man I am today. The consequences of my college years have had an awesome affect on me.

I hope and pray that our son experiences the same kind of growth, the same kind of enlightenment that I experienced. That is to say, to learn what he needs to learn about himself, about life, and about the world that we all share. The lessons that I learned shaped me, and the lessons that he will learn will shape him.

Suddenly picking a college seems ginormously more daunting. . .

The good news is we are making progress. Well, they are making progress. . . My wife has approached the subject with her formidable analytical and organizational skills and has worked endlessly to gather information on any and every college that has any possibility of appealing to our young man. By thoughtful categorization and classification, a few hundred institutions of higher learning have been paired down into a very manageable group. We've even been on an official visit, with more scheduled in the next few weeks. . .

Beyond being supportive and managing some of the logistics, I'm not much help in the process though because I have no personal experience to draw on: I had no choice really in where I would go to college. At least not that I was aware of. I went to "Alma Matter University" because I could commute to school while keeping my job and living at home to minimize expenses and prevent putting additional financial burdens on my family. In fact my big decision was not what college I would go to, but IF I would go. I was seriously considering going to the Fire Academy to become a firefighter, and also high up on the list was becoming a mechanic like my dad.

But school was my choice - and thank God It was! For without it, I would be a very different person today and would likely not now be thinking about colleges for my son. If I even had a son . . . For it was my last few years in college that helped turn a long friendship between me and my high school sweetheart into what has become a long marriage!

To this day we marvel at the circumstances that brought the two of us together. I had no understanding then of the gravity of my decision to go to college, but I do now. And I'm in awe.

I guess for our son, all I can hope for is that we do the best we can and pick the right school based on those criteria we deem most important.

I hope we do an awesome good job.

The Good Old Days All Over Again

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Thu, 05 Jun 2008 22:12:00 +0000

Today is not one of them, and neither were the last several. Just a couple weeks ago though there were several. It was like the 70s all over again for me. And the 80s for that matter.

The Good Old Days.

If you are wondering what I could possibly mean, what with gas prices breaking all kinds of records, the economy in the toilet and - put your favorite horror here - What could possibly remind me of the good old days? I've lost my mind? I hope not. (And you may be too young to remember the gas shortages and economic woes of the 80s. But I digress.)

In a very direct cause and effect way, those very high gas prices led me to rediscover some simple pleasures that I had long forgotten about.

Leisurely drives. With the windows down.

Yup, much of my memories center around the automobile. My dad was a mechanic for 40 years, and so father son time often involved cars. And in the warmer months, family time meant going for a drive - to cool off.

In the days before air conditioning was common place in cars and homes, one way to cool off was to go for a drive in the country in the evening. We did this often. I remember the sounds of the crickets and bull frogs along with the rush of the wind as we passed along fields, ponds, and farmsteads.

Later, when I was old enough to drive and have my own car, I remember hearing what was on other peoples radios at stop lights and sometimes their conversations. There were birds singing in the trees overhead and dogs barking at you from the curb. Occasionally a friend would shout you a greeting from the next lane or the sidewalk.

Traffic noises often dominated my commutes to school but it meant hearing the sweet unfiltered sounds of all manner of powerful engines. In those days you were cool if you could identify a car by it's revving engine. I still remember the sweet sound of the 12 cylinders of the Lamborghini Countach that once pulled up next to me at a stoplight. . .

Then there were the close calls. Where today you get a muffled horn blast, back then you could shake your fist, flip "the bird" an cuss out the driver who just made a boneheaded maneuver. All out your open window right into the other drivers equally open windows. It was expected.

I miss that.

Oh, and did I mention the smells? I think the smells are what really made the strongest memories for me. Of course there's the not so nice odors, like burning oil, hot exhaust, and the occasional skunk that didn't quite make it across the road last night. Oh, and Pig farms! But what I really enjoyed were the scents of Spring: Freshly mowed grass, trees bursting in flower, the coming rain.

So this spring, when it was pleasantly cool and dry on the way to work and back, I had the windows open most of the time.* Unexpectedly I found myself recalling all kinds of things I had forgotten I'd forgotten. If you know what I mean.

As kind of a side effect, I also started to drive without haste; coasting down hills and toward stopped traffic rather than barreling full tilt only to stop hard at the back end of a line of traffic. It was quieter. It was relaxing. It relieved some stress. It allowed me to more fully enjoy the simple pleasures that once were so common, but now were as if never before experienced.

Oh! It also gave me something to share with you!

*(Never on the freeway, the increased drag at those speeds hurts mileage more than running the AC's compressor. Besides, it's just too damn noisy . . . And I got 405+ miles out of a tank of gas - about 26MPG from a normal six cylinder car! Sweet!)

A Little Poetic Justice

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Fri, 18 Apr 2008 16:33:00 +0000

I drive my daughter to school every morning, and the route I take happens to pass through a handful of school zones. I have always been very conscious of my speed while driving through school zones, but of late I have been particularly careful - Check out this accident that happened in front of another school in the Columbus area just the other day and I think you'll understand why. . .

Today was shaping up to be just another one of those commutes; I dutifully slowed to 20MPH through every speed zone and got my daughter to school with a clean conscious and time to spare. Things began to veer from the routine though as I started on my way out of the school parking lot after dropping her off . As I approached the end of the driveway I got there just in time for a parade of vehicles going by on the main road. They were traveling at what I guess to be 25 to 30 MPH. Obviously over the 20MPH limit of a school zone, but much to my consternation, about par for the course on this street. A large enough opening soon approached and I eased on to the street and accelerated to 20. . .

Apparently the woman driving the Lexus ESS YUU VEE I had just pulled in front of was displeased at my rate of travel as she devoured the distance between our vehicles in a hurry and stayed planted on my bumper. While the distance from the school driveway exit and the end of the school zone is only about a block and a half, I decided I should explain things a bit by holding up two fingers signifying "2" followed by the OK sign signifying "0" - The speed limit and the speed at which I was traveling. I did that a couple times, and then sped up as we left the school zone. I thought what would be enough to remind the tailgater behind me that the slower speed is expected between the signs with the flashing yellow lights, and that would be it.

I was wrong.

After the school zone was passed, I caught up to the parade of cars. Apparently someone had turned left and delayed things enough that me and the tailgater soon found ourselves bringing up the rear of a fairly long line of vehicles. So now we are going along with traffic, the Lexus grill is still looming large in my mirror, and we are approaching an intersection where the light is turning red.

Much to my relief, I want to go straight at the light, and she wants to go right. The right lane is a right turn only lane, and is backed up farther than the lane I'm in.

But folks are making rights on red and so she eventually pulls up next to me. I'm watching to see if she makes any indication that she had seen my "2" and "0" signs earlier, but fully expected nothing. By her reaction of putting both hands in her window showing two fingers on one and five on the other I would guess that she had seen my gestures. Unfortunately the fact that we were in the school zone was completely lost on her.

Anyway, now comes the best part, the justice I mentioned in the title.

As I was saying, she was in a right turn only lane - The traffic in front of her was moving fairly steadily as no oncoming traffic prevented safe turns on red. She rolled by, both hands and whole face in her window as I watched, chuckling at the absurdity of her seeming indignation. In disgust she whipped her hands back to the steering wheel, disappeared from my sight behind the door frame of the Lexus, and hit the gas. . . Right into the rear bumper of an old lady in her Mercedes waiting to turn right!

Oh. My. GOODNESS!!! I don't think I have ever seen something so exquisite! The light turned green and I started to head on my way. As I wanted to be sure the bump was minor, (it was) I went by slowly to check things out. My glance was rewarded with this statement, mouthed very obviously by the now very pissed off Lexus driver, "Thank you very much!" "See what you did!" I couldn't help but laugh. I waved cheerfully as I resumed my commute. . .

I think she could benefit from what John G Miller has to say. Then again, maybe I should revisit his book myself.

Where have you been?

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Wed, 02 Apr 2008 22:20:00 +0000

Heh, well, I guess I must confess that I have been very distracted lately with a new toy. My kids gave me a Nintendo DS for my birthday last month, and I - as she will tell you - have made my long suffering wife a Video Game Widow. . . I just love Zelda games - and Phantom Hourglass has me hook, line, and sinker. . . *sigh*

And you, dear readers, have been without any word from yours truly for much too long.

Another confession. I can't blame my lack of blogging recently entirely on my new toy. The actual reason, I think, is that I have been filling up every spare Blog moment reading blogs rather than writing one. I made the mistake of finding a few two many interesting blogs that I just can't skip for fear of getting behind. And they are some very prolific blogs!

That's my story anyway, and I'll be sticking to it, Thank you very much . . .

Happy Easter!

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Sun, 23 Mar 2008 04:40:00 +0000

Happy Easter to all of you from all of us here at MRHTD!

"Working" Through School

noreply@blogger.com (PC Strobe) — Wed, 23 Jan 2008 23:19:00 +0000

My parents, who were older than most of the parents of my friends, didn't make much money. My mom was lunch lady at our grade school, and before he became disabled with Parkinson's disease, (Meaning he stopped driving - a decision he made on his own after pulling out in front of traffic, wrecking his nearly new car) my dad operated a one bay gas station and garage he co-owned with a guy who barely did anything at all. So raising two boys and putting us through Parochial school really took everything my parents had.

When I was in high school, my Aunt and Uncle needed someone to mow their lawn so my Mom volunteered me. I didn't mind to much really as I kind of enjoyed the chore at home, and besides, I would get paid for mowing this one. Soon neighbors of my aunt and uncle, appreciating the quick and quality work I did, started asking if I would mow their lawns too, and I readily agreed. At about this same time, my best friend had purchased a new Lawn Boy mower and was mowing lawns for some of the elderly neighbors in his neighborhood. His example showed me that such an investment made good business sense: His new mower had a bagging attachment and he would charge more to haul the grass clippings away. I wanted badly to follow suit. So my mom and dad invested what I realize now must have been a good chunk of their savings in my fledgling business to pay for a brand new Lawn Boy and a very beat up old truck to haul it around in. By the end of that first summer I had paid them back for both - a sum of about two thousand dollars. For the next few years I managed about a dozen lawns a week in the summer, hauled leaves away in the fall, and cleared snow in the winter.

When I graduated from high school I really had no idea if I would even go to college. I kicked around the idea of going to the Fire Academy to be a fire fighter, staying on with the landscaping firm for which I now worked as a salaried employee, or going to a trade school to learn auto mechanics. Finally I decided that college would be the best opportunity for me to land a job that didn't leave me tired and dirty after a day's work. I wanted a job where I showered before going, rather than after getting home.

Despite earning an honest to goodness salary and still mowing a few lawns on the side, when I started College there was no extra money to be had. We filled out the financial aid forms and soon I was attending the local public university on the government's dime. I made enough to pay for my books, gas, and any entertainment expenses, and even though I still lived with my parents, I thoroughly enjoyed my years at school. I spent my first several quarters exploring various fields of study, kinda following an engineering direction - Physics, Chemistry, Calculus - but eventually I settled on Photography. (Kind of a mix of chemistry, physics and art, if you think about it!) A decision that finally exposed me to subjects I had not thought about exploring before, and really taught me a lot about life - diversity, the arts, philosophy - and taught me that I could accomplish much more than I thought I could. College presented me with challenges that, perhaps for the first time in my life, I faced head on with determination and a "can do" attitude. I had a goal, and I pursued it with all the gusto of a hungry animal chasing it's prey.

Ironically I'm not now employed as a photographer in any way whatsoever. I'm in the IT department at my company, and very much enjoy interacting with the folks I help with their computer problems. I'm convinced that I wound up where I am because of the lessons I learned in college. Not the classes I paid for so much, but the lessons I learned as a young man starting to face the world on my own. The lessons of perseverance, of entrepreneurship, of diversity and tolerance, of freedom to do what I wanted yet choosing to better myself.

Like me, our Diamonds in the rough will be working through school - of this there can be no doubt. I hope they also come away as enriched as I did.