shane's posterous

August 26, 2009

New Word Wednesday: Silver Crime

Silver Crime n.-Offenses committed by the elderly. Usage: " a group of well to do pensioners who lost their savings in the credit crunch staged an arthritic revenge attack and held their terrified financial advisers to ransom in the latest example of what is being dubbed 'silver crime'- the violent backlash of pensioners who feel cheated by the world". -- Times of London, June 24, 2009

Don't dis the grandma, and hide the silver when she comes for dinner!

This new word came to me courtesy of my friend, Rahul Padmanabhan.

August 20, 2009

Not used for long, but important, very important

A couple of weeks ago, my pal Tim in southern Illinois invited me for an aerial spin in his powered parachute. Cool doesn't begin to describe it, and I shot photos like Ansel Adams hopped up on espresso and diet pills. (Sorry, Ansel.)

At a break in one snapping frenzy, I noticed the tire pictured below. It's been a part of every flight Tim has taken, but really only participates in a meaningful way for a tiny percentage of the time, and not at all during the cool flying part. But even participating so little, it is essential. No lowly tire, no cool flying.

***Sappy spiritual lesson alert***

Maybe you feel like you don't contribute very much. Two possibilities:

1. You don't recognize your essential role because it doesn't look like others' roles or isn't as flashy as you wish, or just serves to get someone else's vision off the ground. Whatever, don't underestimate what you bring to the table. Ask someone for an objective read on your contribution. Me for starters, if you wish. I'll shoot straight with you.

2. Or, maybe you're right: You're not contributing very much! Dang, that stings. Get off the wheel barrow and get yourself on a powered parachute! If you need ideas, again, ask me. I know of about 18 powered parachutes that could use a tire.

Click here to download:

Not_used_for_long_but_importan.zip (715 KB)

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August 12, 2009

New Word Wednesday: Bear Shaving

Bear shaving

(Thanks to Seth Godin)

Let's define "bear shaving" as the efforts we go to do deal with the symptoms of a problem instead of addressing the cause of the problem. A rare Japanese PSA (now long lost to the copyright gods) showed a girl shaving a bear so it could deal with global warming (here's a lesser one)...

Example: putting a sophisticated queue management system into the Department of Motor Vehicles so that people waiting in line feel like it's less of a mob. This is bear shaving. The productive approach would be to redefine what actually happens in that building so the line itself disappears.

Example: iPhones come locked so they can't be used with other carriers, so people spend hours and plenty of money to 'unlock' them. That's bear shaving. Better to figure out an easy way to pay AT&T their tribute so they can be truly unlocked...

Example: You have emotional issues associated with eating. You shave the bear by getting bariatric surgery instead of dealing with the issue that caused the problem in the first place.

Example: You have a leaky roof and you shave the bear by buying buckets.

Step one to eliminating bear shaving: call it when you see it.

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August 11, 2009

Sampling the local brew with my father in law

***Alert: If you find the sight of small glasses of beer offensive, please don't read this post. Alert***

Anticipating a highlight of our time in Pueblo, Ann and I took the mom and dad in law to the

Shamrock Brewing Company last night to enjoy their yummy root beer. We were saddened to hear our waitress say they were out of root beer and didn't know when they would have it again. I asked someone else on the way out who told me the next batch (they brew their own) should be ready by Wednesday. So maybe we'll return.

In the meantime we ordered iced tea for the women and the little glass beer sampler for the men. (If you're into stuff like this, from left to right: Blond lager, Pale Ale, Irish Red, Shamrock Porter, a nice Belgian White, and a weird, seasonal Dunkel Weiss. The Pale, the White, and the Porter were my favorites.)

The tea was fine, but the beer only served to confirm that my father in law is a Bud man. Enjoy the visual evidence below.

Click here to download:

Sampling_the_local_brew_with_m.zip (109 KB)

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August 3, 2009

Certain Ages Ask Certain Questions

Don't you love it when you read something and say, "Wow. I really needed to know that." This happened to me a couple of days ago while I was reading my friend Marti's blog. She quoted a book she's reading by Gordon MacDonald called A Resilient Life. It was perhaps a tangent in the book, but he mentioned how different questions consume our minds during different stages of our lives. This line of thought has the potential to strongly shape the way I speak to various groups of people. In fact, I told Marti I wished she'd posted it before I recently spent a week talking to college students! They were kind and all, but I wondered from time to time if I was answering questions they weren't asking.

These next several lines will only take three minutes to read, but could have huge impact for you. If you want the fuller blog post, complete with Marti's nice prose and insightful commentary, go here: Telling Secrets. For the questions only, read on:

Twenties

People in their twenties are asking questions like these:

What kind of person am I becoming? What will I do with my life? What is it I really want? Where can I find people who will welcome me as I am? Can I love, and am I lovable?

"Twenty-somethings are becoming aware that they can no longer get away with irresponsible or unsocial behavior. Life patterns, habits, and personality quirks need adjustment if one is to get along. So the question, what parts of me and my life need correction? arises.

Thirties

As people move into their thirties, the questions may shift:

"Since there is usually an expansion of responsibility and no expansion of time, thirty-somethings find themselves asking the question, How do I prioritize the demands being made on my life?

Loneliness can start to be a significant issue, especially for men. Gone are the opportunities to simply hang out with one's friends for hours on end.

"Old friends have drifted away; often, new acquaintances simply do not have the time to build the satisfying relationships that were part of the younger years.
"The spiritual questions no longer center on the ideals of youth but on the realities of a life that is tough and unforgiving.
"Thirty-somethings find themselves asking, why am I not a better person?"

Forties

For many, entering their forties means entering dangerous, uncharted waters:

"The complexities of life further accelerate, and - this is worrisome - we begin to recognize that we can no longer fob off our flaws and failures as youthfulness and inexperience."

Many at this age feel trapped, and may fight disappointment in themselves and the ways their lives have turned out. This is a good time in one's life to take a sabbatical, stripping down one's lives to the bare bones and evaluating one's life journey, perhaps plotting a new course for the second half.

Similarly, those in their fifties, sixties, and seventies see different questions rise to the surface:

Fifties

Why is time moving so fast? How do I deal with my failures and successes? Who are these young people who want to replace me? What do I do with my doubts and fears? Will we have enough money if problems come?

Sixties

When do I stop doing the things that have always defined me? Why do I feel ignored by a large part of the young population? Do I have enough time to do all the things I've dreamed about? Who will be around me when I die? Which one of us will go first? Are the things I've always believed in capable of taking me to the end? What have I done that will outlive me?

Seventies and Eighties

Does anyone realize or even care who I once was? Is my story important to anyone? How much of my life can I still control? Is there anything I can still contribute?

Conclusion

"I was struck with how little we know about each other across the generations. And how important it is to understand what questions form the larger pictures of another's life. This is the pathway to resilience: knowing what's up ahead, what we are likely to face, where the possibilities and obstacles lie."

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July 29, 2009

New Word Wednesday: Cornstraphobia

Cornstrophobia: a morbid fear of being enclosed in a cornfield, rather than confined space.

We begin to begin to experience this feeling as the corn crops grow tall on each side of our narrow country road. Life in rural Indiana is not for the faint of heart!

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July 28, 2009

Analogue Tuesday

Here at the Bennett house, we crunch a lot of electrons through various electronic devices: numerous computers, ipods, video game systems and what not. Looking around earlier and seeing nearly every member of the family poised over a screen of some sort, I thought it might be a good idea to take a little break. Since I spend a lot of time on the computer as part of my job (rationalization alert!), I thought the break should not be huge. We set aside this evening from 6-9pm to be electronically free. I can hear you saying, "Whoa, setting the bar pretty high, are you brother? Maybe you should ease into this." You're probably right.

Actually, it went well, aided by the fact that 4/7ths of us took a one hour drive to drop off our flock of roosters to be butchered. Oddly enough (I want to say "ironically," but think that's not the correct usage of the word.), an Amish family is doing this work for us. Thinking they'd be less than impressed, I didn't mention that we were fasting electronics for the evening. I just thanked them for doing a nasty deed for a decent price. Ann admired the flowers to one young lady. They were stunning.

http://www.glo4life.com/shop_podding.htm

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July 25, 2009

Hornet Slayer for Hire. . .

I recently rang the little cast iron dinner bell on my Mom's patio. (It's the sort of thing I wanted to do as a kid, but usually wasn't allowed to. And now generally don't allow my kids to do. Whatever is up with that.) When I pulled the cord and gave the clapper a couple of good dings, several wasps flew out of the bell. I squealed and ran! But I came back with Mom's Dead at Twenty Feet Wasp, Hornet and Hummingbird Killer. Mom doesn't mess around.

A quick blast dispatched the bell wasps and I thought, "This is fun. I wonder if there are anymore somewhere." I walked around the end of the house to look under the gable where wasps lived in my youth. Vacant. Dang. As I turned to look elsewhere, I found myself looking dead into a hornets' nest, eye level, five feet away. You guessed it: I squealed and ran.

Mom thought coming back after dark would be a good idea and I concurred. This gave me a chance to google "how to kill hornets without getting stung to death." My search turned up nothing superior to emptying the can of DaTFWH&HK on the nest, so I adopted that as my plan.

I pulled up at 11.30 pm and tried to leave my car door open. Sadly, I'd parked on just enough slope that it kept falling closed on it's own. Escape route A, slightly compromised.

I was sleepy and figured the hornets were too, so I wasn't too worried. Plus I had DaTFWH&HK, a threat I guessed they hadn't been trained to respond to.

I shown my flashlight on the little nest porthole and began to fire at will. I feel sorry for the first little hornet, the one who was tasked with, "Go find out that the noise and smell is, Dwayne." He came to the edge of the hole, looked a little ticked off, and promptly fell gracelessly to the ground. Many others followed him, then they eventually stopped. Good thing as my can of DaTFWH&HK ran out about the same time.

The only real drama came when a moth, attracted to my flashlight, brushed my arm. I squealed, but held my ground.

The hornets needed to die, but with all respect, they'd built a fascinating house in an amazingly short amount of time. The basketball sized nest went from nothing to huge in under two weeks. Our contractor, who I'm guessing has a brain bigger than all those hornets put together, took about six months to finish our addition and the roof still leaks!

Click here to download:

Hornet_Slayer_for_Hire._._..zip (44 KB)

Click here to download:

0Hornet_Slayer_for_Hire._._..zip (47 KB)

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July 22, 2009

New Word Wednesday: Writer's crap

Writer's Crap: 'Derived from 'writer's cramp', writer's crap reffers to a stage when one is only capeable of writing utter crap.

'That story was horrible, i think she's got a bad case of writer's crap.

Thanks to the Urban Dictionary for giving words to an ailment from which I frequently suffer!

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July 16, 2009

Oh be careful little thumbs where you text. . .

Here's a note of humorous warning from my friend Matt at www.thedigitaltrekker.com/

TRAVIS, N.Y. (WABC) — A teenager is recovering after falling several feet into an open manhole. She was texting and walking when it happened. “I fell in a hole,” Alexa Longueira said. The Travis resident laughs about it now, but when the accident happened, it was a shock. She was walking along Victory Boulevard about to read a text message on her girlfriend’s cell phone when the sidewalk was suddenly gone. “Like, there was no warning about a big, open hole,” she said. It was a big, open manhole. Alexa tumbled six feet underground and landed in four inches of raw sewage. “A manhole. My kid falls down a manhole,” Kim Longueira, said. In a word, Alexa’s mother says it was horrible. “She was smelly,” she said. Alexa also had cuts across her arms and down her back. They know it could have been worse if the sewer had been full or if Alexa had hit her head. Workers on the scene told kim they had left the manhole unattended in order to get cones to mark it off. “DEP is conducting a full investigation of what happened during a manhole incident on Victory Blvd. where workers were flushing a high-pressure sewer on Wednesday evening. We regret that this happened and wish the young woman a speedy recovery,” said DEP spokesperson Mercedes Padilla.