• Unbalanced.

    I was a little disturbed at the sight. My arms were side by side in my lap, and they didn’t look the same. Bilateral symmetry is something most people find attractive in a person, so you can understand my disappointment over losing a piece of mine. What on earth would make one arm more tan than the other? And then it hit me… I’ve been driving my car without the services of my air conditioner. What does this have to do with one arm being more tan? Those of you out there that have already made the connection are free to laugh at me now (not that anything stopped you before). We all know what a farmer tan is, but are you familiar with “trucker tan”. What the hell am I talking about? If I told you that glass blocks ultraviolet light, would that help? Every evening for the last few months I have been driving home with one arm casually perched in the open window of my car. My drive home takes me north, so the sun shines down through the driver side window – onto my unsuspecting, exposed arm. What am I supposed to do now? I can’t go through my life like this, a two toned freak. No, I am not going to have my air fixed. I’ve been feeling rather cheap lately (debt will do that to you). No, I’m not going to roll up the window. I’d like to arrive alive. Take my arm out of the window? I guess I could use the extra hand. My car is a stick after all.

  • Drink plenty of fluids, take two aspirin, and call me in the morning.

    Alert messages cascaded through the office like dominos. First, applications that no one had heard of were causing errors and being terminated by Windows. Then certain network applications stopped working. Next, the clipboard didn’t work. Finally, we were alerted that our system detected a virus and had no cure. We were calling out the progression of system failures to one another, a kind of role call for the cursed. Then the network administrator chimed in. Ominously, the virus protection on the network server was not responsive and he was bringing the whole thing down. We all joked that it probably didn’t have far to go.

    Have you noticed that when you go to the doctor with a cold you are usually told: “it’s probably just a virus, we’ll just have to let it run it’s course.” Not so when the network administrator finds a virus. You can sense virtual klaxons going off warning of impending virtual doom. It’s like a PC ebola outbreak, as infected sectors are quickly quarantined. I pity our poor network guy. While we were sitting around waiting to be useful again, our network guy was running around trying to patch the crumbling damn with silly putty. Now I feel like I’m REALLY living in the world of high-tech. You haven’t lived until you have worked through a large scale viral infection. Now I feel complete.

  • Family differences.

    As Beth has grown, Cheryl has taken no pleasure in noting that Beth “is just like you John.” Beth saying something smart. Beth sitting in strange, contorted positions while watching TV. Beth exploring the limits of her abilities, improvising when necessary to achieve a goal (usually something that Cheryl doesn’t want her to do). These are all examples of when Cheryl might invoke the “you’re just like your father” excuse for her behavior. For me, these moments can be gratifying and frustrating. Seeing someone taking after you is one of the great joys of parenthood. It is a given that your kids will take things from you, but I took the phenomenon for granted. It’s quite another thing to actually see this little person grow into their own, with just a pinch of you thrown in the mix. But just when you are patting yourself on the back for molding a precious little child… you see her do something else that you recognize – something that you don’t like. Do you put yourself in time out too?

    Then there are the moments when you wonder if your child was switched at birth. Cheryl and I are both relatively quiet. We tend to shy away from attention. In school I was voted “least likely to raise your hand”. When asked about me, my former teachers recall a kid that sat in back and didn’t say anything. They may recognize my face, but I gave them no reason to remember my voice. Now here comes Beth, the original whirlwind of activity. In many cases, life is one great big performance for Beth. There are a few exceptions… she has this strange aversion to public displays of praise; like comments about her appearance or well wishes on her birthday. What brings all of this up? We were sitting in church Sunday morning. All of the children of the congregation were called up to the front for the children’s sermon. The first thing you need to know is that there is nothing subtle about Beth’s march to the front of the church for the children’s sermon. Her gait is a cross between a high-stepping march and a sprint. The echo of her stomping feet reverberating through the sanctuary sounds as if the congregation broke out in applause. The pastor asked all of the kids to imitate different kids of animals. Two kids went before Beth and took the obvious choices: cat and dog. Beth was called on next. Her parents waited with morose anticipation. Beth got down on her hands and knees and went “naaay…. nay”. After a moments reflection the pastor replied, “what a great horse your doing Beth.” Beth indignantly replied, “I’m not a horse, I’m a unicorn!”

    Never in a million years would I have thought to pick a unicorn when placed on the public spot like that. Never in two million years would I have chosen to correct someone publicly after a wrong guess.

    No, Beth’s choice was not that extraordinary; nor was her decision to correct the pastor. It just struck me that it wasn’t me standing up there. It was another person, a work in progress. That person is a little of me, a little of my wife, and a whole lot of herself.

    You may be thinking that I’m easily impressed by the mundane. You may be thinking that I have a flair for pointing out the obvious. I’m thinking that life is 90% mundane and 75% obvious.* The trick is finding the miracle in the mundane and working a little fun into the obvious.

    * Statistical analysis with the assistance of the great Yogi Berra.