lost in translation- final

Hi all,

Welcome to the final round of the Lost In Translation word bracket tournament. What an unexpectedly long journey it has been! Thank you all for sticking around.

Anyone requiring a refresher should go here for a summary of the first two rounds.

This link will take you to the writeup for the first semifinal and this link will take you to the second.

Everyone ready? Let's get going...

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*iktsuarpok / Inuit noun

The act of repeatedly going outside to keep checking if someone (anyone) is coming

--vs--

*komorebi /Japanese noun

The sunlight that filters through the leaves of trees

At the start of this tournament, I wrote that the main idea was to determine 'my favorite word' from Lost In Translation, doing so by considering words two at a time in bracket format. I did not really consider the logistics, partly out of laziness, but more so because I thought using rigid scoring criteria would take some of the spontaneity out of the process.

So, looking back, I am pleasantly surprised to see that a loose organization emerged in the judging process. Broadly speaking, round one rewarded words that I considered objectively better and the quarterfinal saw words culled for glaring weakness.

The semifinal round was defined by narrower margins. I considered again my original intent and decide to split hairs by examining my own recent experiences and looking for ways in which the words fit. That process brings us here (*).

*In round one, 'komorebi' went through because I liked how it simply stated a fact and left the interpretation of it to the listener. I gave 'iktsuarpok' the nod because I assumed that each passing minute brings us closer to a future where 'akihi' is an irrelevant concept. The quarterfinals advanced 'komorebi' because its opponent, 'tima', did not align very neatly to the way I thought about spending time or money. 'Itksuarpok' deservedly moved on because its opponent, 'mangata', is a limited word when the context of universal application is considered. The penultimate round related each word to my process over the past year.

If I had to go back and repeat the tournament, I would consciously try and replicate this structure. But I would also try to incorporate the semi-fundamental (or perhaps philosophical) question I am considering for this final pairing- what is the point of language?

Such a consideration would be true to the book on which it is based. What Lost In Translation ultimately makes a reader understand is why these small pockets of non-translated words or expressions exist. The book shows that although we all think, laugh, or cry just like our out of sight neighbors do, the catalysts for those actions vary greatly across geography, culture, or experience.

The finalists bring this concept forward in their own way. 'Komorebi' implies that one valuable use of language is to acknowledge what moves us and provides a word that gives us the ability to share this depth of feeling with another. 'Iktsuarpok' meets the need to explain our world and the motivations of those within it through storytelling by giving us a deeper way to look at someone who appears to merely be waiting.

Unfortunately, looking at the two words in this light does not point me to a winner. Like was the case in the second semifinal, fairly equal arguments could be made for and against each. And I think those three criteria I loosely covered earlier that framed the first three rounds do not provide much, either, in the context of the final. I like both words, do not find much in terms of weaknesses, and see little to split the difference when I compare each word to my own experience of the past year.

So, what now? Overtime? A draw? Penalty kicks (*)?

*Yes, please! Unfortunately, I could not come up with a sane way to do this.

I think the answer to the question is found in a different place. I considered what the point of learning another language is- after all, knowing one (especially English) is more than good enough. So, when we learn new words and languages, what are we actually doing?

One thing is that we are learning- or perhaps equipping ourselves with a communication tool to learn- from different places, people, and cultures. By exposure, what does not translate into the native tongue is communicated through experience. How does the word here exemplify that idea?

'Komorebi' is a way to look at beauty which naturally occurs in nature. Anyone who has left the house to look around can relate. People from all over visit my area of the country in the fall just to look at leaves from a great distance. They look at the foliage and take in the sight of all the colors from the dying leaves coming together. Others travel to places like Colorado where you might stand on a dry, sunny hilltop to watch a thunderstorm happen on the other side of a plain, fifteen miles away.

The concept that you can sit under a tree, look up, and be moved is perhaps original but not really one that is difficult to relate to. And I suspect this is the case for most people. Learning about 'komorebi' is like learning what someone in another country eats- maybe you find the food delicious, or not. But before you got to that country, you understood hunger and the community that emerges around a dining room table and the delight in finding something your taste buds agree wholeheartedly with. The end result of what we recognize as beautiful is different but the desire to seek beauty is a universally understood one.

'Iktsuarpok' comes in a little differently. Everyone waits. But in our culture, the waiting is generally expected to end. This expectation allows things like stoplights, security lines, and customer service calls to operate (somewhat) smoothly. We talk about paying our dues and remind each other that good things come to those who wait.

Learning about 'iktsuarpok' is an expansionary moment for those who ponder the meaning of waiting. Through this word, a perspective opens up that allows us to relate to those who wait without guarantee of a payoff. And this is a valuable thing to understand as soon as possible, I think, because the pattern of innovation in technology seems intent on making waiting for anything an obsolete (or at least discouraged) concept.

A tool like Google, for example, eliminates the waiting required to commit a detail to memory. Uber allows us to reduce or eliminate the wait time that was once a given for a cab or a bus. A drive through window could only be invented in a society where driving sixty-five miles per hour is not fast enough to get somewhere. Even the candy bars are getting into the mix. Snickers asks, hungry? Why wait?

Why indeed? If what you are waiting for is sure to arrive, why wait? Shouldn't it just get here faster? In a culture obsessed with consuming, this is the accepted mentality. But in those places where the mentality differs, those questions lead to different answers.

The difference I found in these two words is how they bridged the gap between their respective cultures and our own. 'Komorebi' acknowledges our similarities by agreeing with the principle that beauty is found in nature and relates our differences by utilizing a different example tailored to its native landscape.

What I found in 'iktsuarpok' is more compelling because it looks at what is usually kept locked away on the inside. It shows us that identically decorated treasure chests do not guarantee identically valuable bounties within.

Meeting words like 'iktsuarpok' help me on the journey of understanding others, cultivating empathy, and living compassionately. I think this ability to relate on the deepest level is the most powerful function of language. Without the right words and phrases, the potential each person has to act as a healing presence and bring joy to those around them might get locked away inside an expressionless vessel.

'Iktsuarpok' does this the best in this matchup. It did this best out of any word in the book. It is my pick for the this final matchup and as the winner of the tournament.

--------------------------------------------------------------

(waiting)

(waiting...)

(...still waiting...)

(...)

...the ending there was kind of anti-climactic, no?

No trophies, confetti, even parades...I guess that is how these things are destined to go. Maybe I'll do a 'postgame show' next month to wrap things up.

Hope everyone enjoys the rest of the weekend. In fact, please enjoy the entire coming week.

I will see you back here next Friday for Proper Admin August.

Tim

take care of yourself, too

I was born in Tokyo and lived there for just over six years. The following fourteen years were an unbroken streak of time spent in the United States (except for one day trip into Canada via Niagara Falls).

In the summer of 2008, I took an internship teaching English in Japan. The ensuing six-week trip was the first time I was back in my homeland since 1994.

So, what souvenirs do I have today to remind myself of this big trip? Perhaps an authentic samurai sword from that real last samurai himself, Tom Cruise? A pair of chopsticks autographed by Keisuke Honda? UNIQLO's finest kimono, you ask?

I only have two souvenirs. And I suspect these two souvenirs are not items anyone would ever guess. 

The first item is a nail clipper. This thing is industrial strength. With just the gentlest tap from my left thumb, it will mercilessly remove any fingernail, toenail, or hangnail in its path.

I used these just a few days ago to trim my fingernails. It was not until this morning that I realized I failed to do a full job. Nine of the ten nails were clipped but one remained untouched- the left thumb. And this is not the first time I have done such an incomplete job.

In fact, this seems to happen anytime I am feeling a little run down. Am I unconsciously reminding myself through subconscious metaphor that sometimes we obsess so much in taking care of others that we lose track of what we must do to properly take care of ourselves?

Yes.

Maybe?

No, you shaky analogy wielding fool.

Perhaps. You decide.

And the other souvenir? It is a one-day transit pass for the city of Hiroshima. The date punched into the pass is July 26, 2008. I kept it because that day marked a massive personal shift in how I saw America's place in history and in the present.

That shift might be the topic of next Tuesday's post or the Tuesday after. I might not write about it at all. I really have not decided. But I do note the date each year and thought I would share that briefly today.

See you all again on Friday for (finally) the Lost In Translation tournament final.

Thanks for taking the time to read.

Tim

my feet are too big

Hi all,

Hope everyone has enjoyed their week so far. I'll be back next Tuesday with a short post. In the meantime, gotta run, so please enjoy the post. Have a nice weekend, everyone.

Tim

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At the end of May, I finished reading Cheryl Strayed's Wild, her bestselling memoir about her hike along the Pacific Coast Trail. One thing she writes about is her footwear. At some point along the way, she concludes (with a little help from a more experienced hiker) that her boots are simply too small and she must replace them with a larger pair.

The specific passage that made me think about my own feet was a description of her mangled toenails, discolored and falling away one at a time as foot met too-small boot over and over on her daily hikes. I really had no choice but to think about this because the description could have applied to my feet. So when her new boots arrive and she describes how much easier it is to complete her daily hiking requirements, I took almost immediate notice.

Until I read Wild, it never really occurred to me that my size twelve running shoes were possibly too tight. But once I started thinking, it became clear that this was the only logical conclusion. I noticed a week later, for example, that the shoes I got when I went bowling never came close to fitting at size twelve (1). The same experience was repeated a week later when I found a size twelve tuxedo shoe a tad snug.

It seems I needed a gentle nudge to acknowledge that I was torturing my own feet for no reason over the past couple of years. The most obvious outward sign that I ignored were toenails that would consistently discolor or fall off whenever I went through an extended period of sustained running (2). I also experienced a pinching sensation between two of my smaller toes on the left foot for quite some time that recently graduated from 'occasional' to 'standard daily fact'.

Like anyone fully immersed in reality denying mode, I skillfully found ways both private and public to cope with my discomfort and explain (to myself or to others) any unusual behavior. I removed my shoes often, particularly at work, and laced them very loosely when I went running. I reduced my general walking speed to a near crawl, explaining to wisecrackers that 'I guess I just walk slow' (3). Instead of researching causes for the pinching discomfort, I attributed it to a combination of general overuse and the lingering aftermath of my hip injury from 2012.

Good thing I read Wild. The experience of acknowledging all these little problems led me to buy a size thirteen running shoe about five weeks ago (4). And the results so far are very encouraging- my running distance is increasing into the forty-two to forty-five mile a week range, I have very little discomfort in the final miles of each run, and have almost no difficulty to get going at the start of the next run. All three of these metrics are major improvements on the same measurements made two months ago.

My feet feel a little better, in general. If they are going to fully heal, I expect it to take some time. I was restricting my soles for several years, after all (or a couple thousand miles, I suppose, if you prefer to look at it by mileage). It will take time for my feet to expand back out properly if it is ever to happen at all. But over the past five weeks, the pinching sensation is greatly reduced and some of the soreness in other parts of my legs is going away, as well. I'm optimistic.

I guess the question that remains for me is to figure out what really happened and whether there is anything important to draw from it. Is there a big lesson to take away from buying a running shoe?

My feeling in general about this experience is a mixture of embarrassment and astonishment. I generally rant and rave about looking for self-improvement projects so taking several years to figure out that what I put on my feet every single day do not fit is not something I am proud to include on my self improvement project history.

From my experience, it is a universal thing to wait and delay and stall when a change obviously needs to be made. It is such a human thing to resist change. To change is to dishonor the decisions made by our past selves, a past self that we feel for and identify with and want to stay in touch with, after all.

But in general, I think I do well when I need to make a change. In this example, once I knew the change was required, I just went online and bought the shoes. So I suspect this experience is more a reflection on how I choose to acknowledge the need for a change.

A possibility to consider is my own reluctance to see that I could run better than I was doing with size twelves. Why change what is resulting in maximum performance?

About a year or so ago, I started tracking my own distance as a way to measure running performance. My loosely defined goal was to add a mile or so every two or three weeks to my weekly total. I also wanted to steadily increase my longest run, again about once every two or three weeks. At the time, these two numbers were about thirty miles a week and five and a half miles, respectively.

I kept on that track through the winter and into early spring. But I did hit a plateau of sorts when I struggled to get past forty miles a week in the spring. Plus, I always seemed to fade in the last portion of a ten mile run. And although I did note the discomfort I described above during these weeks of running, I also considered that I ran more than almost all people and maybe I was just hitting my natural limit.

I think this line of thinking was the big mistake. There are times where comparing yourself to others is very helpful. But when it comes to activities where you are trying to get the best out of yourself, such a mentality is only going to hold you back. The easiest way to sell yourself short is to point at someone else who does it a little better. If you are trying to improve at something and looking for help and someone stops by to insist that you are fine just the way you are, you should a) ignore them or b) marry them (I do not see a productive middle ground here) (5).

I was never going to acknowledge the issue with sneaker size until I believed that my running could improve. This was a remarkably difficult conclusion to arrive at because, at that time, I was running better than I ever had before. The leap in logic required to make a big change is difficult enough when everything goes wrong. It is many times harder to make changes when things are going well. Why stop doing something that is going well?

I guess in my case, I was fortunate that enough went wrong to force my acknowledgement of a problem. Recognizing that the sneakers might be a problem eventually gave me a chance to run better. At this point, the size thirteen fit is good, perhaps perfect, but at least better than before. And I feel better prepared to continue scrutinizing my own process in the future to continue to improve as a runner.

So, the big lesson here, even for non-runners? I learned that my own feet are never too big or too small. Those feet are my feet. My job is to find the best fit for them to work naturally, not to find the best shoe to fit them unnaturally into.

I can do all kinds of things- like tinker and stretch and justify and compromise and grit my teeth- to make ill-fitting shoes more comfortable and get on with things really well on a day to day basis. But if I get that initial fit wrong, there won't be much I can do later to change the fact that the shoe doesn't fit.

Footnotes...

1. Bowling tangent... 

I never bowl but for some reason right around that time it seemed that everyone I knew suddenly wanted to go BOWLING. I went BOWLING about five times in two weeks. No idea why. I went often enough to where my hand started to hurt. And, just as quickly, the mania stopped. I haven't gone in the six weeks since (*).

It reminds me of freshman year at college when it appeared that everyone suddenly discovered how much fun FRISBEE was without providing any explanation to me.

The bowling shoes not fitting so well is a little odd. My tentative conclusion on shoes is that the more powerful the movement, the tighter the fit should be. Bowling requires acceleration that leads to a hard step so at least one of the shoes should fit snugly. So my expectation was that bowling shoes, like basketball sneakers, would fall into my size twelve range.

I still play basketball once a week and I intend to keep myself at size twelve. The running volume involved is not significant enough to cause permanent harm and the risk of ankle spraining is much higher if the sneaker is loose. I'm still undecided on the footwear I walk around in. The safest bet at this moment is to assume that if I see a size twelve and a half that looks good, I'll probably try it out.

2. 'An extended period of sustained running'...
I actually laughed aloud when I typed that- it reads as if this happens every once in a while. My current 'extended period' is in month fifteen.

And by the way, it was not all bad with those toenails. One of them cracked 'beautifully' at the start of June- it looked like a perfect sunset in reverse- dark up top and gradually becoming lighter until a stripe of pink-red comes in where the skin starts. Made it hard to walk around properly for a week or so, though.

3. You do learn from your DIY solutions...
Not everything about having foot pain is negative. I did learn that walking slower is preferred to walking fast. It is a good example of something clever I read a little while ago- that what is unenjoyable might improve if it were tried a little slower.

So if you see me strolling about today, no, my foot does not really hurt, I'm just walking at what I consider the ideal pace. And if you are not enjoying something that you suspect you should be enjoying, slow down a tiny bit and go from there.

4. Shoes shoes shoes...
The size thirteens I bought were the same brand as my size twelves. You should make changes when needed but nothing too drastic, you know? One change at a time.

5. Tim is giving marriage advice??!?

It sure seems that way! Let's keep in mind that I only dispense the best advice at all times, of course.

And if you do choose to marry them, make sure first that they will encourage your attempts to improve, anyway.

Thus concludes the only marriage advice you may ever get on this blog.

proper admin july- books

Hi all,

Summary of my reading from June.

Enjoy...

*Tiny Beautiful Things by Cheryl Strayed (6/1)

In my June edition of proper admin, I noted that this was the third of Cheryl Strayed's books that I read in the final week of May. I also mentioned that I am listening to her weekly podcast, Dear Sugar Radio. A lot of her work has resonated with me and I need some more time to put that feeling into writing. So, I am going to do a separate post when the time is right and cover the three books together. Let's say sometime in August.

I've already written a little bit about her ideas from these books, though. The thoughts about withholding and how they distort reality was a powerful section in this book. Her description of how her too-small hiking boots impacted her toenails (from Wild) and her personal recollections of how she ignored obvious problems in her own life until they literally became too loud to ignore (from Tiny Beautiful Things) were among the catalysts for my own recent decision to buy a larger pair of running sneakers.

The biggest idea that I am wrestling with at the moment involves how it is human nature to narrate our own lives. The events that happened in our past are the building blocks of our future. The way we respond to our own experiences of success, hurt, shame and joy shape the people we become.

I look back and see how these things have always held true for me. My worst ever performance as a student, a freshman year course about volcanoes, led to my becoming a more focused and meticulous learner. A bitterly disappointing three years of complete failure as a college basketball player led to my best preseason and a near breakthrough into the rotation in my senior year. A butchered rehab process from my first major ankle injury gave me the understanding needed to rehab almost perfectly when I repeated the injury on my other ankle a few years later. I am beginning to see how my lay off will likely make me a better employee in my next position.

Strayed wrote in Tiny Beautiful Things that losing her own mother at the age of twenty-three unquestionably made her a better person. She repeated this point on her podcast. Last spring, I read this idea for the first time and found the suggestion that a mother's death could lead to someone becoming a better, fuller person incomprehensible (and perhaps vaguely offensive).

I'm not fully around to the idea, yet, but sitting here a year later I do see what Strayed meant in her words. I understand that I might look back one day and say the same. Given how human it is to simply narrate our own journey and reflecting on the ways I have always responded to negative experiences in the past, I see no reason why I would one day say otherwise.

*Slouching Towards Bethlehem by Joan Didion (6/4)

An essay collection from an author who I am aware of but still do not know much about. Most of the writing is set in the late 1960s (that decade yet another thing that I am aware of but still do not know much about).

There were many interesting little comments and ideas throughout. One idea I liked was that it is easier to identify the start of something than the end. Another idea I liked a lot was that if you do not at least remain on 'nodding terms' with the people you once were, they tend to come back to you at the very worst possible times.

The essay that has stuck in my mind is the final one- I believe it was called 'Goodbye To All That'. It remarks on what I consider a necessary realization for those considering the difference between post-adolesence and adulthood- the recognition that everything you do adds up, that each day does count and all the time wasted along the way does accumulate somewhere. I remember the first time I read this idea- in Meg Jay's The Defining Decade- and thinking about how the true professionals I knew at the time seemed never to have a case of the Mondays.

*Mind Gym by Sebastian Bailey and Octavius Black (6/5)

A few months ago, I posted a description of my reading process. This included a section on my screening process for reading books. In most cases, I wrote, books that rate at 4.2 or higher out of 5.0 on goodreads.com pass the final test.

When I checked on Mind Gym, I noted that high rating and added the book to my library list. A book about learning and development strategies? Sign me up, please!

Ah, but...turns out I looked up the wrong Mind Gym (*). This book actually rated closer to 3.2 on the scale. And though the book was not entirely a waste of time, I did find some parts a struggle to read and others were a bit too simple for what I expected to be a more nuanced read. More than once, I thought 'this book is not very good for a 4.2' and switched my attention over to a different read.

*The other Mind Gym is a fitness book. No plans on reading it at the moment.

A couple of the ideas are worth restating. One is that relationships tend to break down over an accumulation of small, negative events. Generally, it is thought that five or so positive interactions are needed to outweigh each negative one.

The second is that assuming you know how someone else is feeling is a surefire way to lead to a bad reaction. Just ask, I guess. A close cousin to this idea that I am thinking about at the moment is how asking someone to justify their feelings or explaining to someone how their feelings are wrong is a surefire way to get them to shutdown.

*Only What's Necessary by Chip Kidd (6/8)

This is about Peanuts and the author of those comic strips, Charles Schulz. Although the book covered the life story of the author, I really just looked at the comics. Not an entirely worthless exercise, though, to read the text that occasionally interrupted the panels, because in a way Peanuts was his life story told through the medium of the comic strip.

*The Great Fortnight of No Reading by Tim Concannon (6/8 - 6/22)

From June 8 to June 22, I actually did not finish reading a single book. This is not to mean I did not read- I did read. Just not much.

What happened? No idea. It was a good two weeks, though. All I know is I went into June 8 feeling somewhat down on things and emerged two weeks later feeling pretty good. I don't really have a good explanation for it right now.

*Between The World And Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates (6/22)

I posted about this eleven days ago. Took about eleven days to write, too, I might add. Race is a very difficult topic to write about.

I have thought a little more that post since I wrote it. The startling thing was, when I challenged myself to come up with one instance where I found it helpful to describe something, someone, some group, some whatever by using racial terms- I came up with a total zero.

I wrote last Tuesday that I am not sure when this year is going to end. When it does, though, per tradition, I will likely come up with at least one 'new year' resolution. I'm ready to go with mine- I'm done using words like white, Asian, black, and so on.

*Nonrequired Reading by Wislawa Szymborska (6/24)

One of my favorite managerial catchphrases is that 'there is no substitute for the reading'. It was a frustrated reaction to one of my least favorite meetings in my previous role- essentially, each person attending 'did not have the time to read the contract' yet somehow felt ready to articulate their fully developed point of view on how to approach a particular situation (*).

*Did not have time to read the legal document governing what was allowed and not allowed, in case what I wrote above was unclear. Unbelievable! Did the Supreme Court set a precedent for allowing 'I had too much email that day' to serve as an acceptable defense for breaching a contract?

Most people do not do the reading. This starts in junior high school when you first learn about cliff notes and it is more or less the Lemming Olympics from there.

Where were we? This book is a series of short book reviews and I liked how each review made no attempt to substitute for the reading. Instead, Szymborska simply made a connection to an idea or observation that may or may not have loosely related to the book she was supposed to be reviewing.

This book forced me to think about this blog a little bit. I think trying to mirror the approach shown here is a good idea. Most of the time, an audience is capable of taking in only one idea at a time (*). So, no matter how much I have to say about a book or topic, the best bet is probably to keep it short, simple, and focused on the one idea. If I have more to say, I'll just do a second post (**).

*Another one of my favorite managerial catchphrases there. Also, when I say 'an audience can only take in one idea at a time', no offense meant! All audiences except this one, I should say. You folks are capable of taking in multiple ideas at once, I'm sure.

**Wish me luck...

In terms of a specific idea I took from this book, I thought the observation that animals of the same species do not attack each other unless placed into captivity was fascinating. What does this say about humans?

*Stitches by Anne Lamott (6/25)

Where is the meaning in suffering? This is the topic of the book. It is a short read, about one hundred pages (less, actually).

There was quite a bit contained within this work and I'll include my notes in the final footnote for those interested in taking in more than one idea at a time. I find rereading them now to be helpful and perhaps, reader, you will too.

The best idea from this book transformed my thoughts on the Lost In Translation bracket's second semifinal- that the gift of grief is the return of yourself. I needed time to think about that line but saw the wisdom within almost immediately.

*The Visible Man by Chuck Klosterman (6/26)

Klosterman's second novel is about a man who invents and steals cloaking technology. He uses it, primarily, to watch other people while they are alone. This is done to get a better understanding about who people really are since the character's philosophy is that most people are not themselves when they are with other people.

The most compelling idea from the book was an observation made that most people do not seem to 'count' the things they do when they are alone. Instead, they approach the time as filler to get to the next time they are not alone. I suspect this idea originally was directed at television viewing.

I wonder what people who supposedly 'count' the time they spend alone more than others do with that time. Unfortunately, this book did not cover it (unless it was subtly suggesting something about voyeurism). I should have asked Chuck when I went to his book reading...

*Plain Talk by Ken Iverson (6/27)

Iverson is the former CEO of the Nucor Corporation. Though nearly bankrupt in the 1960s, Nucor is the largest producer of steel in the USA today.

The book is about his management philosophy. Stated simply, he advocates such principles as transparency of leadership, minimization of management layers, and production based pay. Each of these principles ties into a larger idea of how loyal and motivated employees are the bedrock of any long-term success in a business.

A lot of what he wrote about spoke directly to me and served as clarification of many of my own principles about leadership. I will likely cover ideas from this book in more detail on my other blog.

The most interesting idea from the book is how he described layoffs. In short, Nucor didn't bother. Instead, Iverson advocated sharing the pain from top to bottom, providing an example in one difficult time by cutting his own compensation from $450k to $110k (1). This allowed workers to focus on doing their jobs well by minimizing concerns of job security within an industry where turnover in such times is considered the norm.

That's all for this week, folks. Thanks for checking in.

On Friday, we might see the final of the world's longest tournament. 'Iktsuarpok' is a small favorite, if the recent betting lines are to be believed, but anything can happen between now and then. That does include the possibility of a delay (to 7/29) but I am working on the post and hopeful that it will wrap up by Friday. 

If I do not finish up in time, please brace yourselves for look forward to a post about running sneakers.

Tim

Foot-noooooootes!

1. A Nucor analogy...
The approach to layoffs reminds me of how some countries handle economic downturns. To simplify the example, instead of a 10% fall leading to a layoff of 10% of all workers, each worker instead reduces their own pay by 10%.

It also reminded me of how holding or buying into index funds with demonstrated long-run success tends to perform better as a long-run strategy than selling off or staying away during a market dip. I suppose the link to the above analogy is keeping your portfolio intact instead of selling off at below-market prices is like keeping your employees around during a downturn. Once economic conditions pick up again, the idea is that the company retaining its employees or the portfolio holding more stock shares will increase its value faster than those who are scrambling to re-hire or looking for 'deals' in an upward moving market.

Endnote- my notes from Stitches... 
*Where is meaning in suffering? This is a question very much worth asking.

*There is no need to call a nightmare a dream.

*Healing means standing in the middle of the horror. It means waiting and witnessing while another suffers in your sight.

*To help others through suffering means spending time with them so it passes a little more tolerably. It means leaving behind what you think needs or must be done just to keep them company. You might have to force your way in because it can be difficult for the suffering to reach out.

*A search for meaning never looks good on the surface. It pulls you from the success you might have achieved at work or at school. It will force you to confront difficult truths about your life that will cause hurt for your friends and family. People will worry about your control over your own life even as you are feeling empowered like never before.

*There is no value in pretending you do not see what is going on, around you or within you.

*The American way is to help. It is not to need help.

*Grief is frowned upon. My company's bereavement policy was five days for immediate family and scaled down 'appropriately' from there, a policy that is the norm among all company policies I am aware of.

This leads to expectations, such as the need to appear 'back on your feet' ASAP so you are not labeled selfish or whiny. Believing this when you are suffering will distort your view of your surroundings and you will not see those who are ready to help you, who are able to witness without becoming embarrassed, who might be uncomfortable or nervous or afraid of saying the wrong thing but willing to try, anyway.

*Grief takes some time. It might take years. But the end result is always the gift of coming back to yourself.

*Restoration requires only that someone not give up. To teach fully is to restore a person in a way that allows the student to use his or her natural gifts.

*Teaching is a calling for those who do not understand the idea of giving up.

ok so not a real post but who cares...

Hi again,

Apologies for yesterday's non post. And, bad news, I did not get around to completing any of my stated upcoming posts between then and now.

Instead, I'll post a preview of what I expect will go up most frequently on my new blog. This blog is going to focus on business management, sort of. I intend to figure it out as I go.

All I know for now is that I am aiming to get across one idea per post in less than five hundred words. Everything else is subject to change.

I'll be back on Tuesday with one of two posts- 'Proper Admin July- Books' or 'The Lost In Translation Final'. The post I do not do for Tuesday will likely go up on Friday so I suppose that is the schedule for next week.

Enjoy the sneak peek preview...hope everyone has a lovely weekend.

Tim

------------------------------------------------------------------

So this Business Bro read about checklists once time...

Hi all,


Some number of months ago, I read Atul Gawande's The Checklist Manifesto for about the eleventieth (approximate) time. I highly recommend it to anyone whose response to forgetting simple yet critical steps is to blame others to blame their surroundings to blame unfair expectations to blame interruptions to vow never to allow such an elementary oversight to happen again.

This post is not about checklists. It is about a research finding that Gawande references in the book. This finding stated that teams who know the names of each person in their unit outperform teams whose members do not know each other's names. I believe this finding was presented in the context of surgical teams but I am willing to bet it applies to all kinds of teams.

One result of having 'worked my way up' in my prior position was that I became an informal go-to person for certain miscellaneous questions. These included questions about names...

'How does she pronounce her last name?'

'Which of the Mikes is that?'

'Your name is Tom, right?'

The reason why so many of these questions came up was because the way we learn each other's names is challenging. Often, we get a quick introduction and exchange a couple of pleasantries before going our separate ways. For an office worker in a new job, this might happen fifty times during their first week. It is no small feat to remember even one new name- imagine learning fifty at once!

When I read this book, I suspected that not knowing names could hurt the business at some point. I certainly saw no argument for how not knowing names would help the business at any point. So, I looked for a quick and simple solution to try.

One lazy Friday, I enlisted one of our interns to go around the office, find out everyone's name, and make a seating chart in an Excel file. I checked it twice and emailed it to everyone.

The idea was very well received. Some people liked the formatting the intern used. Others found it hilarious that I butchered the CFO's last name. I managed to use the word 'cartography' in the email and I received a couple of nice remarks about that.

I'm sure some were relieved to just find out who the new person was on the other side of the office. It is hard to admit that you do not know someone's name, especially if that name is one of the seventeen total words that person has ever said to you.

Your solution does not need to include a seating chart. It might be name tags. And it is possible that knowing names might be irrelevant in some fields. That's OK. For our company, we were at just the right size to make the seating chart the ideal solution.

Plus, to be entirely honest, I had to send the new Mike an email and I had no clue what his last name was. I certainly was not going to admit I had forgotten it already.

Signed,

The Business Bro

apologies folks but today's post is cancelled?

Possibly. Delayed is the better word.

I set this message to schedule on Wednesday because I became very busy very quickly and thought it might prevent me from posting on my stated schedule.

Not sure when I will return with another post. It is possible I post tomorrow- check after 11am EST. If not, I will ask that you all kindly return next Tuesday during the usual block of time (11am - 12pm EST).

Thanks,

Tim

what i learned this year

The first person I learned from was my mother. I learned from her that it is natural to be connected to other people. When you are connected, you always belong somewhere. It was the first thing I ever learned.

I would go on to learn more from my mother. I learned how to hold things and how to be held. I learned how to eat fish and how to speak my mother tongue. I learned that socks go on your feet unless you draw a face on it first. I learned how to pour yourself into an activity.

I learned left from right and right from wrong. I learned you shouldn't kill things and that you shouldn't shoot guns, even fake ones. I learned that a box of tissues can look like a train car and that healing properly is a painful process. I learned how to be loved.

I learned that if you want to be a student for life you can become a teacher. My mother was a teacher. She knew that to keep learning was to keep growing. I've spent my whole life learning and growing but it is a little easier to do these things when you always have your best teacher around.

My mom died a year ago today. I learned on that day that there is death. It was the first thing I learned without her. It was the first thing I learned this year.

I learned a lot this year. I learned that you can learn a lot even without your best teacher. I learned that the best teachers teach you how to learn on your own.

I learned that I was wrong to call this a wasted year because years are not wasted in the present, they are wasted in the future. I learned that they are wasted when you don't learn from them, that they are wasted when you don't use the rocks that pelted you as stepping stones.

I learned this year that it is easy to look back and identify when something started. I learned that this year started a year ago.

I learned that a birthday marks a beginning and that you always think about your parents on your birthday.

I learned that compartmentalizing is healthy. It is the beginning of healing. It works just like a splint- required until it is time to heal.

I learned that suffering begins when you go to a place where no one can find you. It is the place you go to when you become disconnected, when you lose your sense of belonging.

I learned that music brings you in and out and back to these places like nothing else.

I learned why '40' is my favorite song, what 'Beautiful Day' is about, that things don't last forever and somehow, that a U2 show is like going to see your life flash before your eyes.

I learned that, occasionally, a meal for free is exactly what I need, that I know what I know, that nobody tells you who is disappearing, that when they won't wait you're there to stay.

I learned how to say 'It's art-deco necromantic chic all the dinner plates are kitsch with' in one breath. I learned how to just sit.

I learned that Lake Street Dive should cover 'Higher and Higher'. I learned that I make a distinction between bands that cover songs well and bands that don't, that I prefer the musicians who make connections, who find places for another's work to belong within their own.

I learned that if the event description includes the words 'jazz' and 'free', I'll go.

I learned some things are best for free, like those jazz events or certain meals or sunglasses or libraries. I learned two library card numbers by heart and that I won't pay to replace free sunglasses.

I learned what I'm saving my money for. I learned that it is important to have the means to walk away when you have to.

I learned what I am ready to buy and what I am not. I learned that I might be biracial but I don't buy racial. Races don't foster connection, races don't encourage belonging.

I learned that I when I was told 'you won't regret the money you spend visiting friends', I was not quite ready to generalize the advice.

I learned that work is one way to make money. I learned that it is one way out of many, that you have a life and not a career. I learned that you have to show up for both.

I learned how to fully bring myself to work. I learned that I was The Business Bro, all along.

I learned that Monday is the best day to take vacation but that Wednesday is the best day to not be at work. I learned that you should answer all your email. But if you can, always wait one day before you do.

I learned that you should always trust your employers with your career. If you can't, you should quit. But I also learned that you need a reason to stay, not one to go, and you should always trust your instincts before you trust anything else.

I learned that the work of minimizing failure- vaccinating a community, feeding the hungry, educating kids- is completely draining. I learned that finding the cure is always more alluring than implementing the cure seven billion times.

I learned how good, healthy food is cheap and how costly it is to make that same food available seven days a week in a supermarket. I learned that my weekly grocery bill should be twenty dollars.

I learned that my favorite sushi is eel. Or perhaps mackerel. I learned that I like dazzlingly colorful kitchens and how to make banana bread. I learned a better way to make mashed potatoes.

I learned that most recipes don't remind you to turn off the oven, especially those for pizza. I learned where to get the best slice in Boston.

I learned why people get excited for the Boston Marathon. People are always excited for races that foster connection, for races that encourage your belonging to a community.

I learned that the way the Charles River bends can make what is on your side seem to be on the other bank. You won't know for sure unless you get moving.

I learned the Green Line did once have an 'A' line. I do not know if it ran properly or not. I assume it ran very poorly.

I learned not to assume in life because life tends not to work out the way you plan it.

I learned that assuming the stoplight will turn green is not always enough. Sometimes waiting at the stoplight all day is not enough to turn it green. That is not a reason to run the red light. Sometimes you just have to wait.

I learned that my kids won't meet their grandmother. Those are the cards they'll be dealt. But if they don't know their grandmother, then that's just me misplaying the hand. Assuming I have kids, of course.

I learned my mother almost got into a fistfight with her idiot of a firstborn when she tried to put him into a stroller. I learned that, when she was younger, my mother used to ride her bike all around Tokyo.

I learned that 'no straight on red' might be a good sign for intersections. Or maybe just something to write on bike helmets. I learned that a ghost bike never, ever belongs anywhere.

I learned that your body doesn't forget how to ride a bike. I learned that your body won't forget to remind you when you skip stretching.

I learned that people torture their own feet for no good reason. I learned that when your shoes make your feet hurt, your body wants you to buy new shoes. You can do everything to make yourself more comfortable. But nothing changes the facts when a foot doesn't belong in a shoe.

I learned how to wash my hands properly and that it takes forever. I learned that some things never come off your skin, particularly when your skin connects you to the invisible world beyond. I learned why some people need to get tattoos.

I learned that hair matters a lot less than most of us think. But I also learned that hair can matter a great deal.

I learned how to tie my hair. I learned that if this result is ten inches long, you can donate it to someone who knows it matters a great deal. You can help someone feel connected again.

I learned that when your mother suggests you grow your hair out every other week for five straight years, you should do it, not because she's your mother, but because she knows you best.

I learned that when she suggests you bleach that same grown-out hair blond and spike it like Keisuke Honda, you should not do it, even though she is your mother, because goodness, spiked and bleached blond? You had your chance when I was three, Mom.

I learned the difference between hurt and injured. Injured comes with a time frame and severity levels. Injured means you haven't healed, yet. Injured means everything will connect again in due time.

I learned that hurt just means you are hurt. There are no severity levels. No one is hurt more than another who is hurt. There are no expectations for healing when you are hurt. You are hurt when you do not feel you belong.

I learned it is exhausting to pretend you are injured when you are really hurt.

I learned the power of simply acknowledging what hurts you. I learned the power of a ritual that acknowledges and connects your hurt to your healing, that gives your pain a place to belong while you build the strength to carry it.

I learned that writing is one way to have a connection with what hurts me. I learned that I can write a little bit but struggle to write just a little bit.

I learned that I take great care when I write in longhand. I learned that I am easier to read than I think. I also learned that I am still pretty hard to read.

I learned that at every stage in my life I have found some reason to write something. It is what I do when I feel I belong somewhere.

I learned that no one remembers what you write but usually they remember how your writing made them feel.

I learned that giving advice is the best way to disconnect yourself from another. I learned that having someone justify their own feelings is the fastest way to shut down them down.

I learned that nice means not making someone feel worse and that kind means giving it your all to try and make someone feel better. I learned it takes one to be nice, two to be kind. Kind is the opening for connection, an invitation to belonging.

I learned that adults are starved for kind words. I learned that adults are starved for connection.

I learned that the internet has the ability to make you feel alone or isolated. But I also learned that this might have something to do with how we tend to connect to the internet when we already feel alone or isolated.

I learned that this makes me uneasy about smart phones. I learned that its easy to lie, or at least withhold the truth, when texting, and this makes me uneasy, too.

I learned that when someone sends you a message that makes you feel connected, that makes you understand how you belong, that you'll keep it with you for as long as you can. It doesn't matter what medium the message arrives in.

I learned that you need to be able to state what you feel. You need to connect to your soul and give it a place to belong in your life. Otherwise, you'll eventually regret those times when you were unable to do so.

I learned that if you see a ring that makes you really laugh in Brooklyn, you'll regret not buying it. I learned it because it is important to surround yourself with what makes you laugh.

I learned that you don't regret the time you spend waiting for your coffee in the morning. But if it takes twenty minutes to get your iced coffee, I learned that you don't get that time back.

I learned that one way to keep yourself up at night is to spend the day refusing to change the course that you will regret later. I learned that if you somehow manage to fall asleep, it is literally possible to dream. I learned that some dreams are important and others are totally useless.

I learned a lot of things that might be totally useless.

I learned what a 'bang bang' is. I learned that purple is my favorite color. I learned how to use a pay phone. I learned origami, sort of. I learned how to memorize birthdays. I learned where the line is between shy and withdrawn. I learned that if you are a lousy gift giver, you can still fake it if you make it.

I learned that totally useless things are a great way to connect to each other.

I learned the difference between volunteer as a noun and volunteer as a verb. I learned that the latter is more meaningful to me. It means you must only be your best self and nobody else. It means people must connect to you and not to a role description.

I learned what my best self was and when he was last seen. I learned that grief leaves you with the parting gift of your best self, the self that answers to the soul, the one that learns to find meaning.

I learned that helping someone die is meaningful work.

I learned that growth without meaning, growth for growth's sake, growth where it doesn't belong, is the ideology of the cancer cell.

I learned that if you don't understand and believe in your capacity to grow, you won't know to toss aside the things that are holding you back.

I learned that growing is the reward for a lot of hard work. I learned that growing begins after healing and that healing begins after suffering.

I learned that when you can't quite figure out why something is different, it is because you have become different. You've grown. And though you are always the last one to find out, you knew it would become true all along, too, because you suffered and you healed.

I learned how important it is to go outside and how every day that starts at sunrise is far longer than those that do not. I learned that it is natural to connect to your surroundings. But I knew this all along, I suppose.

I learned that learning is mostly admitting what you knew all along.

I admit that I have a lot left to learn.

I learned that some people try to help you and they will hurt you instead. They will ask how your dad or brother is doing before they ask how you are doing. They will tell you that you are a tough kid and a smart kid and that you should be fine soon enough. They will tell you that you will land on your feet. They will tell you that their own mother survived cancer. They will tell you about the people who lost mothers but are doing just fine. They will tell you to go have a nice summer or ask how yours has been, so far. They tell you they know exactly how you feel.

I learned this year that it is easy to look back and identify when something started. I learned that this year started a year ago.

I learned it is not so simple to figure out when something ended. I learned today that this year is not over yet. I'm not sure when this year will end. I wonder if this is because I still have something left to learn from this past year.

Maybe what I have left to learn is compassion, the truest kind for those that only want the best for me and don't know what to say. Maybe I have to learn compassion for those who don't know but still forge on through self-doubt and discomfort and their own experiences of hurt to give it their best shot for my sake.

People ask me about my dad or my brother because they care about them, too, in the same way they care about me. They ask because they know that I can give them a good answer.

They acknowledge my toughness and intelligence and resilience because they know it or admire it or have just seen it and want very much for acknowledging it to be what gets me through the day.

They tell you about surviving mothers because they know that nothing is worse than a battle lost in vain, that each failure to conquer a disease is an imperceptible step forward for someone's research, someone's mother, someone's dream.

They tell you about the sons who are doing fine and moving on because when you find someone wandering and lost the nicest thing to do is to hand them a map. A map connects us to where we belong. The kindest thing to do is to help them use it.

They ask about your summer because they know clouds have silver linings if you bother to look and that its important to surround yourself with people who help you laugh, help you have fun, and help you get through difficult times.

They tell you they know how you feel because the first thing they learned is that it is natural to be connected to other people. A connection is an invitation to belonging. They are doing their best to acknowledge that you still belong, somewhere.

This year will be over soon. I know it because I understand compassion a little better today than I did a year ago. I know my best self is the compassionate one, the one that allows a nice gesture to become a kind one, the one that is present and open to learning. I'm lucky to know how to learn.

I learned this year that I am lucky. I learned that I miss my mother a great deal but I knew this all along, too. I missed her when I went to summer camp. I missed her when I went to college. I missed her when I went to Japan and saw all her favorite sights without her. I'll miss her the next time I go back. I knew I would miss her all along but I still learned that I miss her because I'm learning all the time and I learned that some things you learn again and again.

I am lucky to miss her. I'm lucky because you really miss people when there was something truly great about them. You miss anyone when they give all they had for you unconditionally.

Thank you for all you taught me, Mom. Thank you for all you gave me. I missed you this year. I will miss you next year and each year after. Until we connect again in the next world, your memory will belong right where you rest in my heart.

Love always,

Tim

proper admin july

Hi all,

Welcome to Proper Admin for July 2016, my monthly recap of anything worth sharing which did not quite make it into a blog post.

Blog Admin- July 2016

Some 'state of the blog' remarks to kick things off!

Currently, this blog is mostly for relatively unorganized longer form writing. This gives me the chance to do things like proofreading (which I never do) and think on paper (which I need to do better).

However, I've always envisioned the future of the blog as a space where I simply write my thoughts about what I've read recently (*). My feeling of late is that this future is fast approaching.

*'Nobody really cares what I think about customer service' is another way to describe this concept.

So, I am going to make a non-trivial effort to shorten up the posts. I think this news will come to the delight of all readers but I also know we've been here before. I mean it this time, though! The basic principle of these shorter posts will be that each post should try to get across one idea and one idea only. We'll see how it goes from there.

One related concept is my decision to start a new blog. It is going to center entirely around topics I can link back to business management concepts. Separating these posts from this blog was a tricky decision but I think the correct one (*).

*We all get bored talking about work, after all.

I'll put links up to those blog posts at the top of new posts on this blog so that you all can enjoy my fine writing across all media platforms. I am still working out the specific details about when I will start that up but I will certainly keep you all posted.

What's cooking in this kitchen for the next few weeks? Tentative schedule...

7/12- What I Learned This Year

7/15- Proper Admin July- Books

7/19- Lost In Translation Tournament Final

7/22- Maybe Something About Shoes? 

7/26- Remember To Take Care Of Yourself

7/29- Is Harry Potter Really Coming Back??!? 

8/2- USA, Part 2 (My Hiroshima Trip from 2008)

8/5- Proper Admin August

8/9- Proper Admin July/August- Podcasts
8/12- Proper Admin August- Books
8/16- One Year Hubway Anniversary

9/5- USA, Part 3 (What's The Point of America?)
9/9- Proper Admin September

Q + A from June- actual questions from actual readers

Q: Is it OK to share the link for the blog?

A: Yup- same answer as last month- only as long as you think it is good...

It does seem like some sharing is going on. Nice work, readers. The blog view count is a little higher on a daily basis than it was at this time three months ago. We might have our first double-digit page view day soon! Hopefully, such traffic does not crash Google's servers.

The following things were actually said about my blog in June...

Sorry folks- this section is coming to an end. Fun while it lasted, though. You can use the comments section if you miss it- it will be like this section but in real-time.

What was all the chatter about? Commentary on June 2016 blog posts...

*6/3- Proper Admin, June 2016 (part one- general)

*6/7- Proper Admin, June 2016 (part two- books)

*6/14- Proper Admin Special Edition- Lost In Translation Tournament Recap

This whole blog is becoming a proper admin.

*6/17- Euro 2016 Preview

At the time of writing, the semifinals of this tournament are set. Wales is still around, surprisingly. Unsurprisingly, my tournament pick was wrong- Italy succumbed to Germany in a quarterfinal round penalty shootout.

Euro 2016 Semifinals as interpreted by True On Average

Tavern In The Square (South Station?) vs. The D Line

South Boston vs. The Public Garden

*6/21- Lost In Translation, First Semifinal

*6/28- Lost In Translation, Second Semifinal

This will probably be the last 'bracket' I do on this blog unless, of course, Lost In Translation II comes out. Fingers crossed?

Podcast Roundup

This section ran long so I cut most of it for a 'podcast only' post next month. We'll see, perhaps once every two months is a good rhythm for podcast commentary.

I will start a couple of new features for this monthly section- a monthly podcast episode recommendation and personal podcast power rankings.

My podcast episode recommendation from this month is from The Football Ramble. This particular episode is something of a regular feature- it is the episode after England embarrass themselves at a major international soccer tournament. It runs about fifty minutes, most of which is spent complaining about England. At some point in the middle, they spend a few minutes talking about 'actual football' before returning to the topic of England. Very entertaining and a good look at the fan mentality of a different national team.

Here is a link to that specific episode.

On to the power rankings. Everyone loves power rankings, right? Simply put, power rankings mean a list of the podcasts I listen to in order of personal preference. The only one I do not include is Hardcore History. This show, by Dan Carlin, comes out every two or three months as a multiple hour breakdown of some moment in history. It is closer to an audio book than a podcast so I'll leave it aside.

Podcast Power Rankings- July 2016

1. The Football Ramble

2. Common Sense with Dan Carlin

3. More Or Less: Behind the Stats

4. The Bill Simmons Podcast

5. Men In Blazers

6. The Memory Palace

7. EconTalk

8. Dear Sugar Radio

9. The Moth

10. Reply All

Not Applicable for Power Rankings

*Hardcore History

Reading Roundup- June 2016

As is the now standard proper admin format, I'll cover last month's reading in a separate post next week. Here is the full list from June:

*Tiny Beautiful Things by Cheryl Strayed (6/1)

*Slouching Towards Bethlehem by Joan Didion (6/4)

*Mind Gym by Sebastian Bailey and Octavius Black (6/5)

*Only What's Necessary by Chip Kidd (6/8)

*Between The World And Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates (6/22)

*Nonrequired Reading by Wislawa Szymborska (6/24)

*Stitches by Anne Lamott (6/25)

*The Visible Man by Chuck Klosterman (6/26)

*Plain Talk by Ken Iverson (6/27)

I also read the first half of The Visual Display of Quantitative Information by Edward R. Tufte. This book reminded me of How To Lie With Statistics, a book I talked about in a past post. The primary idea involved discussing the principles of proper design for graphs, charts, and tables. Since this book was filled with many examples of such infographics being used deceptively, it could easily be considered a sequel to How To Lie With Statistics.

For the half-year, I finished reading seventy-nine books. In the same period of time last year, I read forty-six books. I think the jump is only loosely related to not having full time work (*). The real reason underlying the jump is my emphasis on reading shorter books.

*I did read seventeen books in January, after all, a month during which I worked full time.

A better indicator of the impact of not having a job is blog posts. In the same time frame from 2015, I completed exactly zero blog posts. This year, I completed about thirty-five or so.

What's up for July?

I have a few books out from the library which I do intend to read. Of those, Still Alice by Lisa Genova intrigues me the most. This novel follows a couple of years in the life of a Harvard professor after being diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's disease. I picked this book out because I am having the privilege of meeting patients suffering from Alzheimer's through my volunteer work and feel that knowing as much as I can about their experience will make me a better volunteer.

Three others I hope to get started on before next month's proper admin post:

*Turn by Anne Truitt

*Hackers and Painters by Paul Graham (reread)

*Religion For Atheists by Alain de Botton (reread)

I think the fact that I am rereading a book is a good enough sign of my recommendation! Both of the rereads above were very good the first time around.

Turn is a book I have no expectations for but noted that it was very well reviewed.

Did I leave the apartment at all?

Early in June, I went to see Chuck Klosterman read from his newest book, But What If We're Wrong, and field audience questions. Book readings are a fairly good time and Klosterman in general is a fairly good time so this went predictably well from my point of view. From the reading, I got the impression that his newest book will be very good. There was nothing particularly memorable about the event, however.

Beacon Hill had its annual art festival (I believe it is called the 'art walk'). This is a very convenient event for me as one of the exhibits takes place ten steps from my front door. The most interesting piece involved various fortune cookie slips glued onto a panel with different streaks of paint slashing across the messages. I have a small collection of such messages and found the way one artist made use of these fascinating.

A few days later, the Jimmy Fund had its annual Scooper Bowl event. Ten bucks for all you can eat ice cream. It is probably a good thing that this is held midweek because it would be pure madness if it took place on a weekend. One thing I noticed is how few small ice cream vendors exist in the area, especially compared to breweries. I am sure there is some reason involving the economies of these pursuits that explains this observation.

Davis Square had a 'squeezebox' music event that did little to clarify my understanding of a 'waltz' but regardless was a good way to sit around and do nothing for a couple of hours (*). I enjoyed Emerald Ray and Somer O'Brien's Irish and Scottish influenced pieces. This Gloucester based duo did play a wider variety of music which I did not find as appealing. They have a few things up on Youtube and are working on a Kickstarter for their first album- might be worth checking out if you are interested in that type of music.

*'Squeezebox' means accordions. If you need a more technical definition, Wikipedia describes it as the 'general class of hand-held bellows-driven free reed aerophones'...so, uh, there you go.

The Boston Public Library started their free concert series this month. So far, I only checked out Eduardo Mercuri's show which was a good time but not the type of thing I will likely seek out in the future. July sees luhx (no caps, synth-soul?) and MIXCLA (all caps, a Chilean-Japanese-Cuban Latin Jazz mix...wait, what?) coming in which seem like two acts more down my alley (well, sort of).

June has been a good month for getting outside. Recent conditions at sunrise and sunset fit my definition for perfect weather- you can wear just about anything you want and remain comfortable.

On days when I wake up early enough, I'll jog over to the waterfront and try to watch the sun come up. Given the time of sunrise, this has been a significant challenge! Sitting around and reading during the early morning hours at the Public Garden has been a good addition to my routine.

I have one concern at the moment regarding the Public Garden. They currently have two nesting swans on the northwest side of the pond. The public is separated from these territorial beasts by a flimsy little half-moon fence which stops at the water's edge. Newton's Second Law of Nesting Birds, I believe, states that a swan at rest remains at rest until a bunch of tourists turn up to take selfies. I forget the next law. But I do know that a swan at rest is within a few seconds of full access to the public at all times. If a swan goes for a little swim, even that buffer disappears.

I have been attacked by a swan and it was no fun experience. It happened a couple of years ago while I walked to my old job. I was walking up the street to the office when I felt something pulling at my gym bag. Looking down, I saw a swan using its pointless beak to hammer away at the Nike swoosh on the side of the bag. I tried to swing the bag at it a couple of times and considered reasoning with the animal before I noticed the pure evil in the eyes that stared back to meet mine. At this point, I decided it was best to just jog up the hill while I could do so unscathed.

Everyone who I detailed this assault to later that day thought it was a hilarious event!

A few days later, the swan attacked a woman's car in a parking lot and, now that a car was being damaged, I suppose, things were no longer a laughing matter. In short, no one has seen the swan since.

Based entirely on my one experience with swans, I am concerned for the Public Garden. I just do not see this situation with nesting swans ending well. What is the best case scenario here? We already have swan boats, ducks waddling about, and a healthy one-to-one ratio of squirrels to the park's square footage. Are you not entertained? Do we really need to add potentially dangerous birds to the mix? Fingers crossed, everyone.

I find myself over by the Charles River two or three times a week to see the sunset. This is something I generally do, if possible, even during winter. But it is particularly nice at this time of the year to sit by the river and watch the day wind down.

All of the time I have spent over the past couple of years observing this simple, daily event is beginning to accumulate. Not many years ago, I used to look at sunsets and think 'that looks just like a painting'. These days, it works in reverse- I'll see a painting and, if I recognize the great care and skill needed to capture the end of a day so accurately, I'll say 'that looks just like a sunset'.

Anything else new?

I bought new running shoes. I initially wrote more about this for today's post but, surprise, I have a lot more to say on the matter than I realized! I am going to do a separate post about these shoes later.

Speaking of buying clothing, I did buy new jeans. I have no idea why jeans are stacked in the store with the biggest pairs on the bottom shelf and the smaller ones at the top. Logic would dictate that they would be stacked in ascending order by inseam so that the tallest people would worry about the jeans on the top shelves and the shortest people would deal with the bottom shelves but, well, what can you do?

My complaints aside, since neither top nor bottom shelf had my size, I ended up buying them online.

I resigned my lease for Boston. I considered, seriously but briefly, whether it was time to go. It is possible to stay too long at the fair. But I don't think the time is quite right to make such major decisions.

Once I determined that I was going to give the city one more shot, it was a no-brainer to stay in the current apartment. Compared to the other options available for September, my overpriced studio is actually a fairly decent deal.

My job search is going pretty well. There are a lot of opportunities out there. Look for a sarcastic post about the job hunting process sometime this summer.

Finally, my bar trivia team actually won. This type of thing is generally non-news but I mention it only because this was our first victory in three years. This is a particularly massive accomplishment for my friend Brian, who has gone to this same trivia every week for nearly three straight years and lost every single time. I've been an on-again off-again member of the team during that period but over the last six months I too, have gone each week to help our squad find a new way to lose.

Our initial victory was by a single point so the fluke potential was significant. But, the next week, we won again, once more by a single point. Therefore, it came as no surprise to me this month that Iceland beat England in soccer, that Cleveland won an NBA championship, that the UK broke off from the EU. When our team wins trivia, anything is possible and nothing is permanent.

Thanks for reading this past month.

Until Tuesday,

Tim

birthdays

Birthdays are a nice time for a lot of things. They are good opportunities for celebration. Another year is no small feat for any person or country. They are a good time for gifts and cakes. They are a good time to appreciate the love that those objects represent. They are a good time to think about the past, present, and future. They are a good time to think about your own life, the foundations of that life, and the houses you want to build someday upon those foundations.

A birthday like today, a birthday for a country, sees an outpouring of love for country, an idea we call patriotism. All kinds of people celebrate, so long as they identify as American in some meaningful way. One thing I think about on days like today, when such a diverse mix of people come together to celebrate one shared thing, is the meaning of love for country.

I don't know much about love though I did have the great honor once of speaking about it in public. It is easy to talk about what you don't know, sometimes, and I suppose easy to blog about, too.

I'll give myself credit for knowing two little truths about love. One, I know that when you love something it means you want what is best for it. Two, you want it to be the best version of itself that it can be.

Birthdays are a nice time for a lot of things. My birthdays were always a reminder of the love my parents have for me. The symbolic gesture of this was Mom baking a cake. This happened because Mom loved me and that meant she wanted the best for me, at all times if possible, and that meant she had to bake a cake because her cakes were superior to the other options available.

I suppose it is possible that if the stove was on vacation or Mom was a lousy baker then she would have walked down the street to buy a cake. Maybe Dad would have gone on this walk instead. But this would still mean she wanted what was best for me, he wanted what was best for me, they wanted what was best for me at all times.

The idea that my parents wanted me to be my best self, at all times, never came through in such an obvious way as a circular vanilla cake with decorative frosting that gave it a visual resemblance to a flattened, sugary basketball. But it was there, too, the kind of thing that is not a real thing in one sense but you feel it, anyway, beside you and around you and within you. Things that are not real can still be felt. Things that are not real can still lead to real things. 

My parents must have felt it. Without this desire to be the best versions of themselves, it is likely that they would not have gotten together. They must have lived up to this ideal, this second little thing I know about love, because when they met pairings of Japanese and American were still unusual. It was a time when some American football coaches still referred to deceptive plays as 'Jap plays'. It was a time when some Japanese remained deeply distrustful of America and might even have gone on to raise kids that would ridicule and tease and bully me on the playground for having an American father.

It is easy to bend and mold and conform to the forces of the society around you. Love protects you from some of these forces. The invisible armor that love wraps around us dilutes these forces, sometimes to the point where we do not feel them, and this armor is a great gift. My parents had it, somehow, most likely received from their own parents, my grandparents, and I am blessed to have inherited the same.

Birthdays are a nice time to reflect, to consider that I came about despite initial protests from my grandfather, on my mother's side, about her relationship with someone from a country he picked up a gun against in World War II. Or maybe he just had that gun handed to him by a crazed, confused commander, like so many others who have their futures reduced to a barrel and a trigger, from someone who wanted the best for his country but had no idea what that meant and had no idea how awfully wrong his conclusions were.

Birthdays are a nice time to reflect, especially when the lights dim and the shadows of your candles dance on the far wall and the flames on the cake bring light to the darkness of the room. You think a little bit at that moment about what each candle represents. You think about the future, what you wish for the future, and then you blow out these candles, each year of you extinguished, and you let go of the past and stop pondering the future and return to the present. It is symbolic to say a candle represents a year let go, a fake thing in a way, but to let go of a fake thing can lead to very real ideas, very real actions, and very real progress.

Birthdays are nice time for cakes, cakes with candles. A lot of candles, maybe, if you are America. Happy 240th, America. That is an awful lot of candles representing an awful lot of things. To hold so much upright, you need a strong foundation.

What is America's foundation? I did not know a month ago. Then I picked up a copy of Ta-Nehisi Coates's remarkable Between The World And Me. The work was worthy of every accolade bestowed upon it in the past year (and there were many). But perhaps the singular idea I took away from the read was written plainly on the inside flap of the cover. It was one of those ideas that you understand immediately.

This is the quote- "Americans have built an empire on the idea of 'race', a falsehood..."

And I thought- race is a falsehood. It isn't a real thing.

Birthdays are a nice time to think about past birthdays. On my first July 4, a few months after moving here from Japan, we went to see the town's annual 5K road race. The start line was right in front of us and the finish line was there, too, so we waited for the winners of the race to return.

The man who returned first was a little early, suspiciously so. It turned out that he took a shortcut and as a result came in ahead of his competition. The race he ran was not a real race. His race was an easier race and his race made it a forgone conclusion that he would come out ahead of those running a different race. He worked hard, no doubt, but his idea about the race was why he 'won'. His race was a fabrication.

When I read the word 'falsehood' on the inside flap of that book, I considered the idea of race as a fabrication. I never gave the topic enough thought to give myself a chance of reaching that idea on my own. Now, though, having read that line, I am beginning to see things a little differently. Race isn't a real thing.

Birthdays are a nice time to weigh past, present, and future. We do it as we look into the candles, as we search for our deepest wishes, as we exhale and let go of what is inside, let go of the closest thing to our heart, to put the candles out and return to the present. Race is a fact of the past, even if it is a fake thing, because things that are not real still lead to real things. And there are so many real things that grew out of this fake thing called race.

Race is a fact of the present, a thought that ran through my head a lot this week as I applied for jobs. At the end of some applications, I am asked if I wish to identify my race. I can even pick two, sometimes (or more!) if I feel so inclined.

Usually, I pick the easiest option available. Maybe it means I check the boxes that someone else will understand or maybe I just skip the question. It is purely a matter of minimizing the movement of my hands on keyboard and mouse.

I do it this way because race isn't a real thing. I have a tendency to make fun of and take less seriously job interview questions that have nothing to do with my ability to do a job. Such as, if I were an animal, what would I be? Or, what crayola crayon color best describes me?

Stupid questions lead to useless sentences. Here is a useless sentence- 'he's Asian, that's why he's good at math'. Useless because it justifies without explaining. Useless because it dismisses my own effort to learn and fail and improve until I became good at math. Useless because that sentence presents an understanding of my math ability that is not based on a real thing.

It is based on race. And race isn't a real thing.

I find it interesting that the question about my race is often paired alongside a question about my gender. Months ago, I read Maggie Nelson's The Argonauts. When I read this book, my thinking about gender emerged from autopilot. The key line went something similar to this- gender, like genre, is a marketing label.

I guess one extension of such an idea is that gender is not a real thing.

Nelson's line sat almost entirely undisturbed in my mind until just last week. Last week, I read Coates's book and the quote inside the cover. Now when I see the gender question on job applications I think about the line again.

Still, even given my belief that race and gender are not real things, they do lead to real things. These real results are facts of the present. By drawing our attention and forcing our mental energies to consider these things, we are withheld from considering other real things, the things that we must know and understand about who we are and who we wish to be.

Cheryl Strayed, in Tiny Beautiful Things, wrote that withholding distorts reality. We think of withholding as offering nothing but it can be active, too, by offering something false as reality. Define someone or some group by false terms and the ability to understand reality is distorted. Such definitions withhold from us the capacity to see who or what someone is or wishes to be. A reality distorted confuses us, makes us hesitant, makes us question our feelings and thinking about the world we live in. In such a reality, we shrink as human beings.

A birthday is a good time to think about your foundations. Race is a false foundation upon which a house of hate is built. We look into its living room when news reaches us from Paris, from Brussels, from Istanbul. When news reaches us from Orlando, we see that gender, too, is a foundation for another house in that neighborhood. These are small houses for small people. Countless other stories of hate never reach us- from Iraq, Syria, Yemen.

I wonder if the arrival of some stories and not others is related to how races determine winners and losers. I know it is related to withholding and how withholding information about the way hate is used against the powerless changes the way those with power frame the problem.

Race may or may not be a real thing. I guess my opinion on the matter is clear. What's important is that the distinction is trivial when those who do see it as real act on it. 

"Americans have built an empire on the idea of 'race'." Coates's writing, held by the book cover on whose inside flap those words are written, created a powerful work. He relates difficult, perhaps excruciating anecdotes eloquently and ties them to his ideas with great care and skill. His story is what he believes the world must know about a construction project called America and how it impacted one man and the community around him.

Race isn't a real thing but this American empire built on that foundation is a real thing. It started at a real place, on a real date and time, which means today is a real thing called its birthday. And a birthday is a good time to reflect.

When America's birthday cake had one candle, race was an idea related to language. Speak the same language and you were one and the same racially. Once people outside the group started to learn English, the definition changed to consider physical characteristics.

Today's birthday cake has many more candles. A lot has changed since the day that first cake was baked. The definition of race is changing because, like always, the definition remains fluid. There is no one agreed upon definition for race. This tends to be a characteristic of fake things.

There is a word I see in many definitions of race, though. That word is 'division'. Division is a good word if you are only allowed one word to summarize the common result of hate.

When America's birthday cake had some candles, about four score and seven or so, the country was embroiled in its darkest period. A false understanding of others, fueled by a hatred that emerged out of a false belief in race, led to a very real division by which all states were forced to define themselves. It is a good thing that this division was temporary, that the hate that once defined the relationship between north and south no longer does so today.

When America's birthday cake had some more candles, about three score and eleven fewer than today, the world was a mushroom cloud or two away from the end of one of its darkest periods. A false understanding of others, fueled by a hatred that emerged out of a false belief in race, led to very real divisions by which all countries were forced to define themselves. It is a good thing that this division was temporary, that the hate that once defined the relationship between America and Japan no longer does so today. 

The latter is an especially good thing for me. It is a good thing because my existence was gifted to me by a Japanese mother and an American father. Without two countries stepping back from the division that once existed between them, I do not get to be a real thing. I suppose I would not even be a fake thing, for a fake thing does at least require an idea, and that would not have been there, either. What a gift it is to simply exist.

Birthdays are a nice time for gifts. What a gift it is to look back and let go of the past, to let go of the things that weigh us down and block the love that is awaiting our receipt. People at peace can let go of the past. Communities and cities and states at peace can let go of the past. Those who let the past dictate the present, who cannot untangle the two, have no future but their own past, are doomed to repeat the past and become the past.

I wonder how many kids don't exist today because a pointless, hateful division persisted and kept mothers from meeting fathers. I marvel at how close I came to being one of those kids- a matter of a decade, maybe. I think about my parents and their parents and how they faced the struggles that emerge when definitions are built on fake things.

Or maybe there was no struggle. Maybe my parents' experience and my grandparents' experience as parents were simpler. Maybe they simplified complex things just by focusing on a love for their children.

Today is a birthday and a birthday is a good time to think about past and future. Can America let go of the falsehood of race and leave it permanently in the past? Can we take the first step to rewriting the sentences, sometimes life sentences, that justify hate without explanation? Can America become an ally for those who want what is best for their loved ones and to see them flourish as the best selves they can be, to break the cycle that leads to more hate and division?

I struggled for a long time with my feelings toward America. Did I love a country that bombs people and places, that sings about the same prior to sporting events? Did I love a country that uses the word 'united' even as we wield division, the end product of hatred, as a passive weapon against the oppressed and voiceless? Did I love a country that fails my favorite definition of maturity- the equal ownership of past, present, and future- each time it talks about history as the past when it so often repeats itself in the present?

It was hard to say I did but this was because I did not really understand the questions I was asking. I was asking about what it means to love a country but imposing conditions on it at the same time. Maybe I was wrong earlier, maybe I know three little things about love, because I know now that a conditional love is not a real love. 

Today is a birthday and birthdays are a good time to celebrate. I am celebrating today, perhaps in a muted way, but celebrating nonetheless my love for the country. It is because I want what is best for America and I want it to be the best version of itself that it can be. That's a definition of patriotism that I understand and relate to and want to live up to.

I suspect acknowledging that this idea of race being a falsehood will help the country forward towards its best self. Considering my own history and thinking about my own parents, it almost seems like I have no choice but to believe it.

Today is a birthday and you always think about your parents on your birthday. Before it was an important day for you, it was an even more important day for them. Parents raise you and if you are raised correctly, you learn right from wrong. When you read something like 'race is a falsehood', you are able to take it in and understand it in full.

A birthday is a good time to think about what you've learned. You first learn from your parents, before you know what learning is, when learning was a tiny step, and you go from there.

If you are lucky, you'll eventually learn from people like Ta-Nehisi Coates and the books people like him write. You learn from someone who sees how a false thing might hold him back, is holding him back, and still surges forward to create and inspire and embolden. You learn to take a tiny step, just by acknowledging what you heard, and trust that you'll learn a little more when you can take another step.

A birthday is a good time to wonder about the future and to make wishes. I wonder if one day America will have a birthday where people pause to look back and say to one another 'remember race?' Such a comment won't confirm that this country is the best that it can be. But I think it would be a good step forward. I wish I get to find out if I'm right.

A birthday is a good time. So have a good time today. I'll be back Friday. Until then, take care.

Tim