Global Wandering

I just got back from a quick trip to Baltimore where I spent an hour or so in North East (that is actually the town’s name), Maryland making a presentation. That meant I endured fourteen hours on planes and in airports for sixty minutes of work. It was well worth it, though, because the daffodils, forsythia bushes and cherry trees were in bloom. I miss the vibrant yellows and pinks of spring back East now that I live in Idaho.

Several folks have commented on this blog or in person regarding my question about how they picture time in their minds, particularly when contemplating a future event. For example, if I say you should attend such and such conference this October, what mental picture do you see when you contemplate next October? In my case, time is circular and the month of October is positioned roughly where the number three would be on a clock (June is at the top of my calendar clock and January at the bottom).

I find this question fascinating because we’ve never been told how we should fathom time. There isn’t a right or wrong way. We just use whatever system we have developed over the years.

Based on my unscientific survey, there appears to be three general methods: circular, linear and tabular.

My sister Denise, fellow blogger Alexandra and I view time in a circular fashion. Interestingly, my sister puts January at the top of her calendar clock instead of at the bottom.

LaPriel and my niece Sarah view time in a linear fashion, although Sarah has flags that pop up on her mental timeline for important dates. My friend Rocky also views time linearly but his timeline is shaped like a Slinky, representing both the circular nature of time along with its progressive march forward.

My nephew Lance and my friend Tony view time in a tabular fashion with each month and date represented on a separate page of a book.

So what influences how we view time? Is it environmental? Most of the individuals I spoke with who picture time linearly grew up in the intermountain West where you can see for miles and miles, whereas the circularists live or were raised in the Pacific Northwest or the eastern United States where unblocked vistas are rare because of the abundant trees.

Such are the petty questions I ponder. For those who desire to contemplate deeper issues, Kate has been posting a monthly question for all to respond to. Have at it.

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Posted by jd at 7:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

The kids and I took our last ski trip of the season today. We skiied at Grand Targhee which lies near the base of the Tetons. Interesting trivia is Gene Palmer, one of the founders of Grand Targhee, learned to ski on the hill behind our house. The pole photographed below was part of the pulley system they built to haul them up the hill.

My son Camden definitely passed me this year in his skiing abilities. He'll shoot down inclines and fly off jumps I won't go near. I'd rather submit myself to his taunts then fall, something I did way too much of this year. I remember the strange mix of pride and embarrassment I felt when I was finally able to beat my dad at something. I wondered if he felt bad as if he'd been forced to face his own mortality because he lost to his son at ping pong. Now that I am in the same boat, I doubt he felt bad at all. He was probably relieved he could stop losing on purpose every once in awhile just so I didn't get too discouraged. I'm sure he knew as I know now that watching your children learn, progress and reach new heights, even heights that I will never attain, is the most rewarding thing in the world.

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Posted by jd at 9:32 PM | Permalink

I will never understand airline economics. I just found out about a marketing pitch I have to be at in Baltimore on Monday. So I booked a ticket there on Delta from Idaho. Cost: $1,100.

My colleague in Cincinnati also booked a ticket to Baltimore for the same meeting. Cost: $1,200. Can anyone explain to me why his ticket is $100 more when he is 2000 miles closer to Baltimore than I am? The only good news is four years ago that same ticket from Idaho to Baltimore purchased two days before the flight would have cost me $2,000.

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Posted by jd at 8:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I'm blogging at Barnes and Noble while I wait for Bret to finish his tutoring session. While here, I bought another book, Kevin Phillips latest tome, which was reviewed in last Sunday's New York Times. Followers of this blog will note I keep a list of books I'm currently reading and a link to those I have read. Some have been on the Currently Reading list a long time. This highlights a problem I have. I love to start books. I love the stiff cover and crisp pages of a new volume, the anticipation of truths yet revealed and fascinating characters who will weave their stories into my heart. But after a few weeks, the book's binding loosens, the pages grow worn and the captivation wanes as my eyes take furtive peeks at the Newly Arrived shelf. Then in spite of my best efforts, I succumb and buy another book. Frankly, I'm a book bigamist.

But in my defense, despite my polylibrarious ways, I am committed. Rarely do I buy a book and not finish it. I just plod along reading six or seven at a time, sometimes taking up to a year to finish a long novel. Currently, I am half way through Jonathan Strange, Collapse and Decoding the Universe, a third of the way through Hedge Hogging and I just started House Thinking and American Theocracy. I make a point of keeping the list varied so I don't get confused.

Does anyone else do this?

On another topic, have you ever found yourself looking at something one way and just assuming that everyone else did likewise, only to find out that wasn't the case. For example, take the calendar year. When you picture an entire year in your mind, month by month, how do you imagine it visually? For me, it's circular. The summer months of June, July and August on are on top, autumn is on my right, December through February are on the bottom and the Spring months are on the left. LaPriel and I had been married about five years when we had this conversation, and I was dumbstruck to find out she pictured the entire year in a straight line. So those are the two world views I am familiar with: circular and linear. Does anyone else view the calendar year differently?

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Posted by jd at 7:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

LaPriel and I were invited by some friends of ours to attend an Elvis concert last night. He (or at least his look alike) was appearing at the local college campus. The crowd was a mix of diehard Elvis fans (generally women ages 55 to 65) and college students (there because at $4 a ticket, it was cheap entertainment and there’s not a whole lot going on in my little Idaho town). I, of course, am neither a college student nor a love struck sixty year old woman. I was just a bemused spectator, although I can say I’ve watched every single Elvis movie ever made⎯I was ten when I went through a particularly intense Elvis phase.

Two thoughts occurred to me as I sat and watched women, who hadn’t danced in years ⎯ at least not in public⎯perform twists and gyrations that I don’t think their husbands knew they possessed. First, did this Elvis impersonator have plastic surgery done in order to enhance his career or was he wearing some type of bizarre forehead prosthesis to give him that Elvis-like glare. Second, how does one get started as an Elvis impersonator and how would my life be different if I had chosen that profession (Okay that’s three thoughts, but they came in such rapid succession I lost count).

Thanks to the awesome power of the Internets, I have an answer to the second question, part A. For all you wannabe Elvis impersonators there is the Elvis Impersonaters Correspondence School (E.P.I.C.S.) – note the school does indeed spell impersonators with an “ers” on the end. I suspect it’s a branding thing. The course looks intriguing with its patented seven step program, including Feeding the Inner Elvis and Picking the Right Manager.

As for the first question, you will have to judge for yourself. Here is the link to photos for this particular Elvis’ website.

Finally, how would my life be different if I was an Elvis impersonator? I suppose I would always have plenty of dates to AARP outings.

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Posted by jd at 5:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

While in Boston last week, I decided my Samsonite roller bag wouldn’t stand up to another cross country flight so after five years and 750,000 miles I retired it and bought a new one.

I also decided that if I didn’t do something about the noise on airplanes I would be deaf by the time I was fifty so I also bought a pair of Bose QuietComfort 2 Noise Canceling Headphones. Absolutely amazing. I should have bought them years ago. Their latest version is lighter and more compact since they fold completely flat in their carrying case. I highly recommend them. My Ipod has never sounded better.

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Posted by jd at 5:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I attended a dinner function at the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library in Boston this evening. Prior to dinner, I was able to tour the museum portion of the facility. It was riveting. Perhaps it was because JFK lived and died before I was born, yet I am old enough to remember some of his contemporaries, but I found the experience of watching his campaign speeches, the first Presidential debate, his inaugural address, and his speech on civil rights given in June 1963 when George Wallace attempted to keep the University of Alabama segregated, deeply moving.

Where are the politicians today that can inspire a generation of Americans to work for the greater good in the same way as Kennedy? If JFK were alive today and running for President would he be as successful as he was in 1960? After spending an hour listening to his speeches and looking at mementos from his presidency, I’d say he would definitely be as successful in today’s cynical climate as he was back then.

How I wish there was a politician living that could inspire me to act in the same way I was inspired just listening to a few of Kennedy’s words. I was ready to join the Peace Corp. The woman I sat next to at dinner said perhaps Kennedy’s speeches seem so inspiring because we know the complete story of how his life ended. I’ve thought about that, but I don’t think so. Kennedy spoke from the heart and didn’t worry about distilling every thought into a thirty-second sound bite, nor did he water down his elocution so folks with a third grade education could understand him.

Find me a candidate like that today, and I’d gladly campaign for him or her.

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Posted by jd at 8:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

My first school decades before I attended

A few years ago I sat on a plane next to a sixty year old man who was clearly distressed. His hands shook and his voice cracked with emotion as he left a message via his cell phone. He told the person who hadn’t answered that he didn’t think he could go on. When the gentleman hung up, I asked him what was wrong. He said he was on his way to Alaska where his adult son had passed away the day before during a dental operation. We continued conversing and I tried to be supportive. He was inconsolable, completely lost. I offered to give him the phone number for a client of mine, a minister who had lost his adult daughter unexpectedly several years before, remembering this client had once said there is no pain greater than that felt by a parent whose adult child has died. I thought this client might be able to offer some solace to the grieving man.

Thus when I flew to Ohio this past weekend to visit with Suzanna’s parents and attend her viewing, I expected to see great outpourings of sorrow. I had my pockets readied with tissues.

I’ve known Suzanna’s parents for twenty-six years. They are like a second family to me. I walked into the church, and there they were smiling, even radiant. They warmly received my hugs and condolences. I marveled at their strength in the face of such adversity. This is a family with a deep, abiding faith, who have accepted God’s will for their daughter, and believe she has returned to His presence and that they will see her again. I am sure there have been many tears in the last few days. I know they miss her. I know they feel the pain that comes when losing a loved one. Yet, they had a peace and assurance about them that left me inspired. I knew they were going to make it through.

On a lighter note, I had a few hours between the morning church service and the afternoon viewing so I drove around the neighborhood where I grew up. If one has moved from where they were raised, they should make a practice of visiting every five to ten years just to reconnect. There are hidden memories that resurface when you return to your birthplace.

I spent the first nineteen years of my life in a suburban village just outside the Cincinnati city limits. This is a town of tiny brick cape cods and wood sided bungalows, a blue collar village with bars katty-corner from the churches, ready to serve thirsty parishioners. A town whose citizens were mostly of Irish and German descent, predominately Catholic with a sprinkling of Protestants, and overwhelmingly white.

I did not grow up in a global village. So I suspect it was for this reason that up until yesterday it had never occurred to me that the street where my dad grew up, where I lived until the age of nine when we moved to a cross street one house from the corner, where I attended elementary and junior high, where I went to church, where several of my good friends lived, and where I worked at my first landscaping/window cleaning/car washing odd job, has a French name. LaBoiteaux. This might strike you as odd, but I can’t recall anyone I grew up with having a French name. They all had good German names like Deidesheimer, and Wulkotte, or proper Irish names. French was not taught in school. Only German and Spanish (cause Spanish was easier to learn than German). We certainly didn’t pronounce LaBoiteaux it like the French. We said La Boy Toe. To me, the street was named after a kid’s foot. It never occurred to me find out what it meant in French, until yesterday.

LaBoiteaux means “the box of” as in “la boite aux lettres” (mailbox). The street was presumably named after Peter LaBoiteaux who was one of town’s first settlers. The question is what was his original name. Clearly he shortened it. I can’t imagine anyone walking around France with a name like A-Box-Of. Everyone would want to know a box of what? A box of crackers? Matches? Candy? Who knows, but it must have been shameful. Why else would he drop it from his name.

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Posted by jd at 6:43 PM | Permalink

I’ve been blogging for six months now and I find that after doing anything for six months I start to question why I spend time on it, and isn’t there something better I should be doing. Not that I haven’t enjoyed it. I just have a short attention span, unless it is something truly meaningful.

I’ve pondered “meaning” a lot in the last week after hearing from my friend Suzanna. Somehow knowing she is suffering so much pain that she can no longer lift a glass to her lips has brought my priorities into sharper focus. Knowing she is cuddling her three year old and trying to explain why Mommy will be going away for a long, long time has caused me to question if my time is spent on the most important things.

Stephen R. Covey said that “when you engage in work that taps your talent and fuels your passion⎯that rises out of a great need in the world that you feel drawn by conscience to meet⎯therein lies your voice, your calling, your soul’s code.”

As I wrote this quote I just received an email written by Suzanna’s husband Aaron. She passed away at 4:45 AM this morning.

He writes, “As I type this e-mail for all to read I do have pain or sorrow due to Suzanna's passing, but I also have peace, happiness, love, and understanding that she is being taken care of and that she is not scared or alone. I know that she still lives and that now she is free from the pain she has been suffering through the past few months. It was hard for me to see Suzanna be in pain and know that there was nothing I could do to help ease her pain.

I'm truly amazed at how many lives Suzanna has touched. We all hear that one person can make an impact on so many...but not until Suzanna was sick did I realize how many people she has touched. The thing I love most about Suzanna is that she loved me for just being me, I didn't have to pretend or do anything special for her to love me. I believe she treated everyone the same, she never judged anyone and just accepted you for who you were.”

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Posted by jd at 5:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (10)

My daughter Breanna and I toured the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum near Tucson this morning. It's so refreshing to take a walk in the warm sunshine after three months of Idaho's snowy cold. While our flower shots aren't as splendid as the Tucson series Simmons B. Buntin has been posting on his blog, we had fun trying.

Breanna saw her first hummingbird ever and managed to capture it in action. She loves to take pictures. She shot over two hundred photos at the desert park, most of them of the rocks and minerals inside the cave. She has far more patience than I have at museums as she meticulously documents nearly every exhibit with her camera.

Afterwards we ate at my favorite Tucson restaurant, Terra Cotta. I convinced Breanna to order off the adult menu instead of the kids'. This is one of my pet peeves as a parent. All that wonderful selection on the adult menu, and for kids they offer a choice of chicken strips, hamburgers, or grilled cheese.

We spent the afternoon hanging out at the pool, taking a long walk to the grocery to buy fruit for snacks, and shopping for earrings for Breanna's newly pierced ears.

What's Breanna's favorite part of the trip so far? Riding around in a convertible. I told her we were renting one, but I don't think she had the concept down. She seemed to think the car would just be outfitted with an oversized sunroof. When we dropped the top and started down the street, she just kept giggling. This was the ultimate indulgance for an eight year old who loves to have the car window down, even in twenty degree weather.

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Posted by jd at 7:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

Breanna and I just arrived in Tuscon for a weekend getaway. We are glad to escape the snow for a few days. We had hoped to see the saguaros and wildflowers in bloom, but given it hasn't rained here in over 135 days, the outlook for wildflowers is poor. We'll see when we head out to the Sonoran Desert Museum tomorrow.

In the mean time, here is a picture of the Grand Canyon we took from the plane.

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Posted by jd at 8:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)