When I started the blog -- back in 2005, can you believe it? -- my wife was very concerned that I maintain our privacy, especially in the case of the kids. She didn't want some Internet predator targeting us; that's one of the reasons I only use my first name here. Of course, we're not exactly on the main drag here; we don't get a lot of walk-in traffic. Virtually all the people who read this on any kind of regular basis are only here because I begged -- I mean invited -- them to read it.
Nevertheless, even though we're pretty much all friends here, I tend to avoid personal details, never even mentioning my family's names. The funny thing is, I'd guess that any regular reader -- if such there be -- has a pretty clear idea of who my daughter is. She has a really large personality; although as I've said, I don't want to write the Funny Kid Story blog, I can't resist sharing one once in awhile.
My son's a little less defined in these pages. Maybe it's just that he's harder to sum up briefly and my writing skills aren't up to it. In this blog he's probably mostly The Kid Who Used to Love Emeril and Always Gets Up at 7. Anyway, something happened this week that made me want to tell you something a little more substantial about him.
Our boy has had his share of struggles. He's sort of the classic ADHD kid, not exactly laserlike in his focus; he has some difficulty managing his emotions, particularly his frustration. He spent an extra year in preschool, kind of gathering himself both socially & academically for school. He was fairly successful in kindergarten, but in 1st he ran into a teacher who was pretty inflexible; he was always anxious, always behind the class -- and all she could say is 'work harder with him at home'.
Last spring he was so miserable that we started doing testing, medication, counseling... basically trying anything we could to throw him a life preserver. We also requested a 2nd-grade teacher who was known as nurturing and gentle.
She would give him hugs when he needed them. She told him over & over: it's just a piece of paper, it's nothing to get upset about. When he started to get edgy in class, she'd say, "OK, everybody up -- we're going to wiggle!" Or dance. Or go outside & run to the fence and back. In first grade, teacher conferences were: here's all the things he can't do; this year, every conference was "I love him, he's doing great."
And this past Tuesday I stood in a stuffy cafeteria and listened as she stood on stage and told the assembled kids and parents about my son: how at first he had been anxious and timid, how she had seen him grow in confidence and ability, how much she loved and would miss him. Then she called him up on stage and presented him with a plaque as the most improved student in her class.
I have to tell you -- no, literally, I feel like I have to -- that not only did I cry right there in front of everybody, but I was proud to. I had some success in school myself; I've had a decent career; my kids' births and adoptions were great thrills. But I don't think I've ever had such a surge of pride as I did that morning. He's not suddenly going to be on the path to valedictorian, and he's probably not going to win the Nobel or the Pulitzer, and all the other classes gave out the same three-dollar plaque. Never mind all that... Tuesday was his day, not to mention a huge day for me.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Saturday, June 21, 2008
On the Job
We had a kids' birthday party at our house last week, and the conversation turned -- as it so often does on such occasions -- to the question of each guest's favorite animal. One boy replied "tiger", and I had the pleasure of showing him a picture of me, standing next to a tiger.
That photo's a souvenir of my time (6 summers, if you can imagine) working at a nearby amusement park -- sadly now defunct, and there's not even much of it left on the Internet to link to. At the park I filled a variety of roles, from cleaning toilets to singing & acting in shows; it gave me a huge boost in the "weird jobs held" competition. It was in the highly coveted role of singing waiter that I encountered the worst boss I ever had.
He was the manager of the Opera House, the theater/snack bar where I waited tables for $2/hr plus all the tips an average check of less that $5 can generate. Actually he was officially designated the head waiter, but he had the power of scheduling, and he used it with particular vigor against me. I had been there awhile before he showed up, and I made no bones about the fact I didn't think he knew what he was doing (back in those days, I was a bit outspoken...).
More than anything else, he committed what I consider the unpardonable sin for a manager: power was his primary goal and motivation. I'm fortunate that almost none of my subsequent bosses since has behaved that way (especially my present manager, if you're reading this as I know you occasionally do. Love ya! :-). I've found that most bosses I've encountered have been about enabling me to do a better job, and often they take more responsibility than power.
I'm thinking about all this because of something I heard on the radio recently. The speaker was talking about the husband as "Head of the Home"... a concept that I've heard about, and wrestled with, since I was a kid.
When I got married I was very clear that I didn't want to be in charge -- you may have heard the expression that no committee of two elects a chairman, and I've never had any ambition to manage anything (well, OK, maybe the Mets). I figured that any decisions needed could be made together.
All that is still 100% true, but I'm starting to see things from a different angle. I'm realizing that being "head" doesn't mean giving orders or being in control; it's not about power. It's about taking responsibility... being the one to "stand out front" or "take point". It has a lot more to do with sacrifice than with authority.
So once more I find myself at one of those difficult junctures: trying to determine whether status quo is adequate, or whether I need to make a change... and if so, how does that play out in real life?
I had quite an honor some weeks back when my wife asked if she could read my blog. Some she really enjoyed, some were just OK -- but she called me on this one. She wanted to know why I spent the whole time setting up the problem, but didn't really resolve it. Part of it was probably cowardice, but also: these are not exactly true/false questions!
Believe me, I wish I had a nice neat punchline both for the piece and for my life. As you may know, not only is truth stranger than fiction, it's also more complicated.
That photo's a souvenir of my time (6 summers, if you can imagine) working at a nearby amusement park -- sadly now defunct, and there's not even much of it left on the Internet to link to. At the park I filled a variety of roles, from cleaning toilets to singing & acting in shows; it gave me a huge boost in the "weird jobs held" competition. It was in the highly coveted role of singing waiter that I encountered the worst boss I ever had.
He was the manager of the Opera House, the theater/snack bar where I waited tables for $2/hr plus all the tips an average check of less that $5 can generate. Actually he was officially designated the head waiter, but he had the power of scheduling, and he used it with particular vigor against me. I had been there awhile before he showed up, and I made no bones about the fact I didn't think he knew what he was doing (back in those days, I was a bit outspoken...).
More than anything else, he committed what I consider the unpardonable sin for a manager: power was his primary goal and motivation. I'm fortunate that almost none of my subsequent bosses since has behaved that way (especially my present manager, if you're reading this as I know you occasionally do. Love ya! :-). I've found that most bosses I've encountered have been about enabling me to do a better job, and often they take more responsibility than power.
I'm thinking about all this because of something I heard on the radio recently. The speaker was talking about the husband as "Head of the Home"... a concept that I've heard about, and wrestled with, since I was a kid.
When I got married I was very clear that I didn't want to be in charge -- you may have heard the expression that no committee of two elects a chairman, and I've never had any ambition to manage anything (well, OK, maybe the Mets). I figured that any decisions needed could be made together.
All that is still 100% true, but I'm starting to see things from a different angle. I'm realizing that being "head" doesn't mean giving orders or being in control; it's not about power. It's about taking responsibility... being the one to "stand out front" or "take point". It has a lot more to do with sacrifice than with authority.
So once more I find myself at one of those difficult junctures: trying to determine whether status quo is adequate, or whether I need to make a change... and if so, how does that play out in real life?
I had quite an honor some weeks back when my wife asked if she could read my blog. Some she really enjoyed, some were just OK -- but she called me on this one. She wanted to know why I spent the whole time setting up the problem, but didn't really resolve it. Part of it was probably cowardice, but also: these are not exactly true/false questions!
Believe me, I wish I had a nice neat punchline both for the piece and for my life. As you may know, not only is truth stranger than fiction, it's also more complicated.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
Find: hy - Replace: i
You get a chance to learn all kinds of skills if you stay in your job long enough. I've been a programmer for 10+ years now, so I hope I've developed some proficiency in a programming language you've never heard of. I should note that was not a foregone conclusion at the beginning; I was not really a programmer when I was hired, I was just a math teacher who had taken some programming courses.
Other lessons you pick up along the way. Since my job often seems to take me into subjects where I don't know what I'm doing, I have to ask for help a lot... so I have acquired some world-class groveling skills. I will flatter, cajole, and basically prostrate myself to get information out of someone.
I always assumed as a programmer I'd just sit in my cube and write code, but in my position I work on many kinds of projects, so I've also had to get pretty good with the ever-present Microsoft Office applications. The best part is that they share a lot of functionality, so once you know something you can use it anywhere. For example, Ctrl-H is the find & replace function: find any text in your document and replace it with the specified text. It turns out I need to use that here.
Almost exactly a year ago, I wrote a little piece called My hyPod in which I talked about why an iPod sounded cool, but was not in the cards for me. Then a few months ago, I mentioned what fun I was having recording all my old LPs to my PC. Well, add the two together (and include the fact that, since my wife was thinking about getting a motorcycle, a tiny little mp3 player seemed cheap)... plus the added incentive of a (minuscule) employee discount thanks to the Gigantically Enormous corporation I work for... it all adds up to a shiny new iPod. No problem: just find all the "hyPod"s and replace them with iPods!
When I thought about this last year, I had two major reservations. One was the time and expense to get the music content. But by the time I bought it, I had already recorded more than a dozen albums (and counting), so I already have well over 200 songs loaded up without surfing anywhere or paying a penny. And I have an amazing wealth of music left to go, even if I never connect to the internet again.
In particular, I must confess I have not yet made the move to download the songs I featured in my hypothetical playlist. I haven't given up on that yet, but I think I'll be focusing on acres of vinyl and miles of cassette tape, and probably also megabytes of CDs, long before I spend a whole lot of time on iTunes.
My other concern was that I didn't figure I had a lot of opportunity to walk around with earbuds, oblivious to the world (and by the way, who did they use as the model for earbuds, Andre the Giant? Apparently they take seriously the admonition to never put anything into your ear that's smaller than your elbow. Or Andre the Giant's elbow. Honestly, it feels like I'm trying to get a golf ball in there).
It turns out there's a multitude of opportunities -- although I usually use more conventional over-the-ear headphones, and I often leave one ear uncovered as a show of good faith. I'm not really ignoring you, of course. I have plenty of time at work to listen, but the best part is during my various chores. Laundry, in particular, is virtually revolutionized; it's really boring to sit in the upstairs bathroom (where the machines and the hamper are located) and sort, sort, sort. Reading tiny tags -- tag manufacturers are another group in cahoots with optometrists. I've tried bringing along some good reading material, but for some odd reason that seems to slow the process down. However, if I crank a bit of Styx, or Petra, the time seems to fly by. Dishes, cooking -- almost none of my mundane daily activities aren't improved by having some handy tunes. And while it's great to have a CD player in the car, I can't carry all my CDs with me all the time (nor am I in the car that much, as a dedicated non-commuter). This way I have lots of goodies at my fingertips. Literally; it doesn't even take up my whole hand!
I did feel a bit silly as a 46-year-old man checking out the product in person in the Apple Store, but fortunately there was a very nice young lady with magenta hair and a nostril ring who was able to answer my questions (and explain how this clickwheel thingy works, exactly) and contain her snickers until I left the premises.
I don't suppose I've exactly caught up -- I don't even have a BlackBerry, or anything Bluetooth-enabled -- but I feel like I've almost made it into the 21st century... not to mention a lot closer to having the chip implanted directly into my brain. Or maybe that's just the earbuds.
Other lessons you pick up along the way. Since my job often seems to take me into subjects where I don't know what I'm doing, I have to ask for help a lot... so I have acquired some world-class groveling skills. I will flatter, cajole, and basically prostrate myself to get information out of someone.
I always assumed as a programmer I'd just sit in my cube and write code, but in my position I work on many kinds of projects, so I've also had to get pretty good with the ever-present Microsoft Office applications. The best part is that they share a lot of functionality, so once you know something you can use it anywhere. For example, Ctrl-H is the find & replace function: find any text in your document and replace it with the specified text. It turns out I need to use that here.
Almost exactly a year ago, I wrote a little piece called My hyPod in which I talked about why an iPod sounded cool, but was not in the cards for me. Then a few months ago, I mentioned what fun I was having recording all my old LPs to my PC. Well, add the two together (and include the fact that, since my wife was thinking about getting a motorcycle, a tiny little mp3 player seemed cheap)... plus the added incentive of a (minuscule) employee discount thanks to the Gigantically Enormous corporation I work for... it all adds up to a shiny new iPod. No problem: just find all the "hyPod"s and replace them with iPods!
When I thought about this last year, I had two major reservations. One was the time and expense to get the music content. But by the time I bought it, I had already recorded more than a dozen albums (and counting), so I already have well over 200 songs loaded up without surfing anywhere or paying a penny. And I have an amazing wealth of music left to go, even if I never connect to the internet again.
In particular, I must confess I have not yet made the move to download the songs I featured in my hypothetical playlist. I haven't given up on that yet, but I think I'll be focusing on acres of vinyl and miles of cassette tape, and probably also megabytes of CDs, long before I spend a whole lot of time on iTunes.
My other concern was that I didn't figure I had a lot of opportunity to walk around with earbuds, oblivious to the world (and by the way, who did they use as the model for earbuds, Andre the Giant? Apparently they take seriously the admonition to never put anything into your ear that's smaller than your elbow. Or Andre the Giant's elbow. Honestly, it feels like I'm trying to get a golf ball in there).
It turns out there's a multitude of opportunities -- although I usually use more conventional over-the-ear headphones, and I often leave one ear uncovered as a show of good faith. I'm not really ignoring you, of course. I have plenty of time at work to listen, but the best part is during my various chores. Laundry, in particular, is virtually revolutionized; it's really boring to sit in the upstairs bathroom (where the machines and the hamper are located) and sort, sort, sort. Reading tiny tags -- tag manufacturers are another group in cahoots with optometrists. I've tried bringing along some good reading material, but for some odd reason that seems to slow the process down. However, if I crank a bit of Styx, or Petra, the time seems to fly by. Dishes, cooking -- almost none of my mundane daily activities aren't improved by having some handy tunes. And while it's great to have a CD player in the car, I can't carry all my CDs with me all the time (nor am I in the car that much, as a dedicated non-commuter). This way I have lots of goodies at my fingertips. Literally; it doesn't even take up my whole hand!
I did feel a bit silly as a 46-year-old man checking out the product in person in the Apple Store, but fortunately there was a very nice young lady with magenta hair and a nostril ring who was able to answer my questions (and explain how this clickwheel thingy works, exactly) and contain her snickers until I left the premises.
I don't suppose I've exactly caught up -- I don't even have a BlackBerry, or anything Bluetooth-enabled -- but I feel like I've almost made it into the 21st century... not to mention a lot closer to having the chip implanted directly into my brain. Or maybe that's just the earbuds.
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