Social Engineering

     A few weeks ago I received a letter announcing my selection as an Arbitron survey participant. It was characterized as a great honor. It went in the recycling bin before I even entered the house. I underestimated the determination of the folks at Arbitron. They have called me at least 3 times a day for the last several days, in some cases leaving voice messages reminding me of my selection. Last night they called between 9 and 10 PM. This morning they called between 7:30 and 8:00 and I decided to firmly demand that they not call me again. I answered the phone and a polite young man named Chris apologized for the early hour and asked me if I listened to the radio at all last week. I decided to follow the path of least resistance and told him I had, and that the only radio station I listen to is the local NPR station. He was quite impressed by this, and to shorten the story, I agreed to participate in the survey. I realized as we talked, that I was doing something contradictory to my plan of action when I answered the phone. They will send me a log of some sort, and I will return it to them at the end of the survey period. He asked if they could “count on me” to return the survey. I felt compelled to explain to him that I would return it, and that the ONLY reason I was participating was to help him out, as I assume his performance is judged by how many surveys are returned. I also added that I did not care at all about Arbitron or what they do. He thanked me for my frank opinion.

     I have mixed feelings about the experience. On the positive side, it gave me a chance to make someone happy at a cost of about 10 minutes of my time and the survey itself should take little effort to complete and mail. On the negative side, my participation will help perpetuate the cycle of junk mail and phone calls. I also suspect that I will be put in a “special category” of people who agree to do things for complete strangers over the phone. I can’t imagine that’s a good category to be in.

Yesterday I had to call Triwest healthcare (the administrator for military healthcare) about a referral. At the end of the call the young man thanked me for my military service. I know he was probably reading from a script, but it caught me off guard. It made me feel good in a visceral way. Maybe there's value in the act of saying something nice, even if you may not be sincere. This could be that "constructive hypocrisy" that' I've heard about.

My second entry of the year!

My wife and I often discuss moving to Florida, or someplace less frosty as winter tightens its grip. Whenever this happens I feel premature nostalgia for winter. There's something dignified and pure about moving through winter in the midwest. The snow, the cold, the long dark nights, and the eventual warming and greening we know is coming.

Living in Panama for three years gave me an appreciation for weather that changes. Maybe that's my point, if I have one. Life is most engaging when it changes, for good or for bad.

The beginning

In the beginning was the beginning. I exist because I think I exist. If I stop thinking I stop existing.

My Printer Has Attitude

I recently obtained a replacement printer from our local Best Buy. My old HP 812 was grinding and clanking and had to have the paper pushed into the feeder to work. My new HP (photosmart C4280) is much sleeker looking and has lots of cool controls and functions. I printed out a three page document after setting the print quality to "draft fast." The pages were printed at blinding speed (compared to the old printer) and were each shot onto the floor with what felt like contempt. It was as if my printer was saying, "here's your page, bitch!" The best response I could make was to turn it off. I can live with an abusive printer, as long as it works.

Distractions

We are distracted by: cell phones, text messages, web surfing, video games, television, books, magazines, each other, music, pets, love, housework, family, religion, and of course, our own mind. We are even distracted from our distractions. Television commercials, Internet advertising and magazine ads divert our already diverted attention. We are distracted because we want to be distracted. It may be what keeps us sane and manageable. Imagine a world of engaged, focused humans. If we really saw and understood what was happening around us how would we react? Would it be a world of social justice and common sense? Or a world of shrill short-sighted self interest. Since we already seem to have the latter, I would hope for the former.
I have always been deeply suspicious of the marketing industry. I don't think advertisers spend money unless it works, and I believe marketers have become quite good at convincing us we need certain things. Perhaps I should be grateful. The world we live in and the technology I am using at this moment may not exist were it not for the consumer lust at the heart of our economic system. This modulated greed keeps the wheels turning, and perhaps more importantly, it keeps us distracted.

The Dalai Lama says

The Dalai Lama says,
"If you can,
help others; if you cannot do that, at least do not harm them."
This is the essence of Buddhism.
It is simple, but hard.
Like many things:
losing weight, or getting in shape,
or saving money.
So many ways to fail,
but in the end I find comfort in my own quotation:
"Do your best, and remember, you are not
the Dalai Lama."

A poetic break

I was an angry young man.
Now I am just angry.
No.
I'm not very angry.
I'm just a man.
A middle aged man
In the process of realizing
It is all a process
The beginning is lost
The end beyond sight
The current moment,
tearing the cloth of time,
is crowded by the past
and the future.
I cannot just exist
I am an American man
burdened and lifted by
the mythology
of the American dream
by the mythology of
freedom
by the mythology of
strength
by the mythology of
happiness
by the mythology of
success
by the mythology of
privacy, safety, religion, fairness
and finally
I exist in a shell
of pride and shame
but in the end
it is good
because I can know
I exist

A Haiku

A cold veil of white
so still seen at a distance
thinly covers life

A Wal-Mart moment

I found myself trudging through the bright wasteland of our local chapter of Sam Walton's monument to consumerism yesterday. My plan was to quickly make my escape after gathering motor oil and a filter. I quickly found what I needed and made my way to the cashiers. There were some open self service positions, but after previous experience with the self service devices, I'd hoped to find a traditional cashier. As I walked, I crossed paths with a man slightly older than myself with a handful of merchandise. He was also looking for a way out. As I passed him I heard him grumble under his breath, "f*cking Wal-Mart's a pain in the ass." It brought a smile to my face. In a few words he articulated the paradoxical relationship many of us have with the biggest retailer in the world. We curse as we hand our money to them. Over time the pain fades and we return for more.

It is like so many other things.

Listen to my poem

Listen to my poem

She begged him to listen to her poem. He did. It was awful. He grimaced a smile and nodded with approval, but she sensed the truth.
"What's wrong with it?" She asked.
He didn't know what to say. He suddenly realized that he didn't know how to put it into words. He just knew the poem held no music for him. He told her this.
"So what do you think is good? Why don't you let me read one of your poems? Better yet, why don't you write a poem right now?"
He thought for a moment. There was poetry in this moment; could he capture it? He gazed thoughtfully into space for a moment, reached for pencil and pad, and began.

Heart in hand she comes to him,
open and trusting
and needing
approval;
but knowing his nature she expects
contempt.
She is not disappointed;
but what she sees as contempt
he feels as fear
and confusion
and love for the effort
it took
to trap him

He handed her the poem. She read it and said, "This is good."
He hid his tears in a smile.

Parenting and dog walking

Yesterday I visited our local Wal-Mart with my main man Dave. He was on a mission for extra large ziplock bags sufficient to hold a human body in fetal position. While wondering through the store I caught a brief bit of a conversation between an older woman (I assume Mom) and a boy (I assume son). I clearly heard the woman tell the boy to "get his head out of his ass." I did a double take and filed it away for future amusement. I discussed it with Dave and we agreed that was not an appropriate way to speak to ones (or anyones) children. I am considering becoming a writer full time and spending my days wandering Wal-Mart in search of stories.

While walking the dogs tonight, I stopped to pick up the "logs" left by Ollie. As I was bent over Ollie began pawing the ground to indicate his mightiness and fierceness. The lawn had recently been mowed so Ollie was throwing great chunks of grass into the air. This grass was flying into my face and onto his back. I asked him to stop but he would not. It was great fun.

Texting

I was recently forced into purchasing text message privileges from my cell phone carrier by my daughter. The plan was inadequate to meet her texting needs so I upgraded to a higher level yesterday. I am confused by the need that young people seem to have for sending these short messages back and forth. What are the long term implications of this? How does one change when they are able to instantly share their feelings without the benefit of reflection? I put the question to my students and they (along with my daughter) insisted it was important. The recent overage my daughter experienced was a result of a "crises" one of her friends was experiencing in a relationship. A phone call wouldn't work because her friend was at work. Never mind that his attention was diverted at least as much by texting as it would have been by a phone call. It seems that texting can be hidden. I suspect many students spend time texting in class.

I am on the far side of a generational divide at last. I sort of understand cell phone madness. But I honestly do not understand texting. I also find myself watching the evening news. I fear the divide will only grow. I can live with that.

Windows Baby!

It’s all about windows baby! I don’t mean MS Windows. I mean actual windows. The panes of glass we peer through while lurking in our homes. The manufacturers have very impressive and scientific numbers, acronyms, and statistics indicating their product is superior. I was ready to go with a vinyl window until I was told that within a few years my vinyl windows would be grotesque twisted caricatures of what a window should be. I must have a special fiberglass like (better than fiberglass) material. Only in this manner will my windows retain their true windowness.

I am conflicted about installation. A helpful fellow at a home improvement megastore told me that installation is easy. I am troubled by visions of myself trying to force a square peg into a round hole while becoming progressively angrier at the universes conspiracy to thwart my happiness. In the end a thousand dollars may be a small price to pay to let someone else handle the details. But where’s the adventure in that? It’s all about the windows baby!

New topic -Check out this article about mental accounting.

Time

What is the most precious thing that we have? Time. We spend, burn, kill, and waste it. We mark its passage with variety and precision. We celebrate moments we believe are significant and barely notice most of it. When I was in my early schooling my report card had a section where my use of time was judged. I believe it was something like "uses time wisely." As I reflect on this I assume that wise use of time would have been working diligently in class, paying attention to the teacher, being prepared for class, and all the things that we have decided are important to being a good student. I propose a rating system for use of time as an adult. Each activity will be evaluated on a scale of 1-10 based on my current values.

Reading a book (10)

Reading the newspaper (8)

Watching Television (program dependent) reruns are worth 50%
- anything on NPR (8)
- The Simpsons (10)
- HBO Series (8)
- Episodic network shows (lost, heroes, etc.) (6)
- News (7)
- Sitcoms (5)

Films
- Foreign films (9)
- Popular films (7)
- Classic films (status as classic defined by me) (9)

Physical activity
- Walking (10)
- Running (10)
- Biking (10)
- Anything that requires movement and motion (10)

Eating
- While watching television (1)
- Food made by someone I don't know personally (2)
- Food made by myself or someone I know personally (8)

Housecleaning (5) (it's just going to get dirty again)

Fixing things that are broken (8)

Home improvement activities (7)

Talking to family members (10)

Mental puzzles (crossword, sudoku) (10)

Financial planning and management (10)

Driving (5)

Quiet meditation (10)

Shopping (5)

Music (playing or listening) (10)

Sleeping (8)

Working (at home or at work) (7)

Leaning something new (10)

Aimlessly surfing the Internet (8)

Comments?

Random thoughts during a final exam

Thoughts stimulated by a discussion about smart kids. Question - does facility with numbers, that is math skills mean that an individual will be successful in other areas of study? Those who are good with numbers would likely say yes. Others who are less skilled in mathematics would likely say no. Both sides would certainly have anecdotal evidence. Is there research? A quick search via Google scholar revealed little. There were some interesting articles concerning predicting success with high school GPA and ACT/SAT testing.
Perhaps a better question is, what does it mean to be successful? A lot of money, a big house, an attractive spouse, a good career, happiness, contentment, service to humanity, fame, are these measures of success? Will I be judged successful if my funeral is standing room only? Should I even be asking the question? Perhaps worrying about success is a sure indicator of failure.
If I strip it to essentials, what does my idea of a successful life look like. Better yet, who can I use as a pattern for a successful life?