Mirror mirror

"Remember upon the conduct of each depends the fate of all." ~ Alexander the Great


The next time a family member gets defensive the minute you walk in the door, or a nurse barely conceals the fact she doesn't trust your report, or the EMT or Medic you're meeting on scene disregards you, change your thinking.

Instead of "what a jerk," think "I wonder what jerk taught them that I don't know what I'm doing.  Oh yeah, probably the one that came before me - dressed just like me."

Then redefine their perception with your actions, for you are simply a reflection and what you do speaks of us all.

Johnny's Mug

This is a nice coffee mug.  In my house it is known as "Mommy's cup" and is usually the first item I reach for in the quest to become functional each day.  It is a decent size, solid, and feels good in my hand.  The marbled blue is unlike anything else in my kitchen so it's easy to spot.  What you can no longer see is the stylized silver dragon design that once resided atop the sea of navy blue.  A beautifully done logo that became the unfortunate casualty to years of me wrapping my hands around it each day.  As you may have figured out about me by now, most of the things I keep have a story and this nondescript coffee cup is no exception.  It is a reminder of good experiences and good people, met in unusual circumstances and maintained to the present day.

I spent the better part of a decade ensconced in the computer gaming world.  First as a player and then as more.  As a result I met some wonderful people, from around the country and across the pond.  As is the way of such things, some became and remained friends and some faded when the last screen name was changed and the virtual cord was cut.

These are people I spent countless hours with, even if it was via the screen.  Who knew me as well as anyone else - knew what I liked, ate, what made me sad.  The faceless medium allows for such extremes in character that you can either build a person you're not, or be excruciatingly honest because there is nobody to see you cry. 

If you've never been involved in such things all I can say in this brief note is that yes, many of the stereotypes are true - watch enough "Big Bang Theory" and you'll be able to keep up,  These are people who are brilliant, with razor wits and depths of wicked creativity that are fathomless. To build entire worlds out of words, worlds that you can lose yourself in, imaginary realms that evoke visceral responses with a matter of sentences - no small feat.

Once a year this motley group of intellectuals would flock to St Louis for a conference - and for that brief period of time you would see the face behind the keys.  Granted, a lot of them got together and ... gamed in person.  (No innuendo there folks, it's a well known fact that if you put gamers together and add a board/video/card/dice game - they'll do it.  Quite pathological really.)  The costume ball is usually fabulous to watch and during the events you get to meet people who are just truly passionate about their chosen vice or career.  Not to mention the fact that it totally debunks the myth that gamers can't/don't socialize, they do too know how to - they just do it differently.  You haven't lived until you've drank from a day-glo test tube that came off the bandolier of a costumed Thief.  But I digress ...

Very late one night at one of these conferences a group of us were sitting in some random hotel hallway outside of the meeting rooms.  I no longer remember why we were hanging out on the floor, just one of those things.  But I can remember the carpet and the lighting and just leaning against the wall.  I was sitting next to my friend Johnny and laughing, but then again - you can't be around Johnny very long and *not* laugh.

Johnny is one of those wickedly smart people who also has a fabulous sense of humor and timing.  His virtual presence is as entertaining as his physical one and I always enjoyed time spent with him or interacting with him.  He feels things so strongly and dramatically, he doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve, it his whole tailored-to-fit designer jacket and it's the first thing he will hand you.  Especially if you need it.  That night was just one of those perfect storms, the mood was right and everyone was just sober enough to engage in hysterical conversation and I sat next to him and laughed until I was incapacitated.  It was an excellent way to end a great day.

The whole time, he was nursing the last of his coffee out of this navy blue mug with a beautiful silver Gemstone design on it.  I made mention that I thought it was gorgeous and without a second thought he handed it to me.  I protested of course, but he insisted and it came home with me and has been at my right hand ever since.

It is well over ten years since that night on the floor.  I left the gaming arena, though not everyone in it.  It wasn't until FB really that we intersected again and I get a regular window into his life.  He is still as funny and passionate as I remember and when he is having a rough time of things, like we all do, I wish there was something more I could do to bolster him up and remind him of that which is good - in him and because of him.  Sometimes we need a reminder of all the lives that we touch, even in small ways, as we go through our day doing what we think of as insignificant or unimportant things.

Our lives are different, we live in different worlds on different coasts and other than a few wisps of text each day there is not much tether between us.  Yet every day that I wrap my hands around my mug, appreciating the warmth that's transferred to my creaky joints, he crosses my mind - a friendly, familiar touch from my past that makes me smile and ultimately reminds me of all the other good things from that time too.

So Johnny ... this one's for you!

Barometer

“I've come to the frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element in the classroom. It's my daily mood that makes the weather. As a teacher, I possess a tremendous power to make a child's life miserable or joyous. I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration. I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal. In all situations, it is my response that decides whether a crisis will be escalated or de-escalated and a child humanized or de-humanized." ~ Dr. Haim Ginott

I am not in the best of moods today and just came across this.  It speaks volumes to personal responsibility and knowing the effect you have on those around you.  If you are familiar with the FISH principles then one of the tenets is that you make your mood, not your job.

I think Dr. Ginott's lesson here certainly applies to the classroom, but I think that it also applies to the workplace.  To lead is not necessarily to be a leader.

That's the way we've always done it!

(I am not the author, I've seen this before but as I'm warming up the writing muscles I came across this and found it funny.  Enjoy.)

Does the statement, “We’ve always done it that way” ring any bells… ?

The standard railroad gauge in North America (distance between the rails) is 4 feet, 8.5 inches. That’s an exceedingly odd number. Why was that gauge used? Because that’s the way they built them in England, and English expatriates built our railroads.

Why did the English build them like that? Because the first rail lines were built by the same people who built the pre-railroad tramways, and that’s the gauge they used.

Why did they use that gauge then? Because the people who built the tramways used the same jigs and tools that they used for building wagons, which used that wheel spacing.

Okay! Why did the wagons have that particular odd wheel spacing? Well, if they tried to use any other spacing, the wagon wheels would break on some of the old, long distance roads in England, because that’s the spacing of the wheel ruts.


So who built those old rutted roads? Imperial Rome built the first long distance roads in Europe (and England) for their legions. The roads have been used ever since.

And the ruts in the roads? Roman war chariots formed the initial ruts, which everyone else had to match for fear of destroying their wagon wheels. Since the chariots were made for Imperial Rome, they were all alike in the matter of wheel spacing.

The standard railroad gauge of 4 feet, 8.5 inches is derived from the original specifications for an Imperial Roman war chariot. And bureaucracies live forever. So the next time you are handed a specification and wonder what horse’s ass came up with it, you may be exactly right, because the Imperial Roman war chariots were made just wide enough to accommodate the back ends of two war horses.

Now the twist to the story.

When you see a Space Shuttle sitting on its launch pad, there are two big booster rockets attached to the sides of the main fuel tank. These are solid rocket boosters, or SRBs. The SRBs are made by Thiokol at their factory at Utah. The engineers who designed the SRBs would have preferred to make them a bit wider, but the SRBs had to be shipped by train from the factory to the launch site. The railroad line from the factory happens to run through a tunnel in the mountains.

The SRBs had to fit through that tunnel. The tunnel is slightly wider than the railroad track and the railroad track, as you now know, is about as wide as two horses’ behinds.

So, a major Space Shuttle design feature of what is arguably the world’s most advanced transportation system was determined over two thousand years ago by the width of a horse’s ass.

And you thought being a HORSE’S ASS wasn’t important!

Spring Play

I have an awful lot of things to be stressed about right now, if I really wrap my head around it I can actually feel my shoulders bow.  I am not talking an overdue project, or lamenting my endless to-do list, but stress that makes you curl up into a ball when left unattended, or causes tears to spring into your eyes without warning at stoplights.

It's such a beautiful evening.  I can smell newly mown grass from next door,  there are sleepy chirps from the first of the year's tree frogs out back.  Bumblebees the size of fuzzy golfballs are defying the laws of physics and bobbing around the yard like buoys in a twilight tide.  My daughter, lit by the slanted rays of todays last sunlight and inspired by the CSA farm we recently joined, is using her Barbie not as a testament to fashion - but to teach her dinosaurs how to properly plant potatoes.

There is sausage grilling and spaghetti squash being cooked in a blush sauce, courtesy of my barbarian husband and his diligent research of low carb cookbooks with amazing recipes.  The fact that I have this quiet time at all is due to him,  he is the reason I am able to maintain the schedule that I do and still have time to be a mom.  For those of you who say, "I don't know how you do it." - I don't, he does.  Because he does, I can.

My old man of a dog is curled up literally at my feet.  His muzzle is grey and his eyes are clouded, a reminder that our time is finite.  His coat is shiny, his legs still strong and he wags his tail when I look down at him - a reminder that while finite, our time together has worth and has been good.

My son's voice drifts by in Doppler waves of excitement as he tears up and down the street with his friends, capturing imaginary enemies and dominating empires of dirt and sticks ... unbowed by limitations and in accordance with all the generations of filthy little boys who came before him.  There is a shiny red helmet on his head, not because it's a prop, but because just sometimes they really do listen to their mother.

I cannot fix everything, I cannot help everyone - not even those closest to me.  Things are not always my fault, or my responsibility, though it often feels that way.

Sometimes it takes looking around your backyard, noticing what you do have, to make you realize that to "have not" is just not as big a deal. The dog at your feet, the breeze through the window, the sunset that is just a curtain being drawn on one tiny act in a rich and vibrant play that is filled with as much laughter as it is tragedy.

It can make you look forward to seeing the next act, if you let it.