know-how

So I just read the blog by an older, skinnier, and shorter version of me (read blog here) about the difficulties of working on something you are not particularly qualified to work on.  The attempt to do these things usually always come down to money ("usually always" is one of my favorite phrases).

This sentence begins the third paragraph of this blog.  The second paragraph is the one that used to exist until I realized there are legal ramifications of giving details of working on things you are not particulary qualified to work on (see this blog for more on this topic).

So, I'm just writing to share pretty much nothing about my life, which is that I am the guy that everyone thinks knows how to do everything because I do so many different things.  I tend to question those complimenting me on this, because to me everyone can do most everything if they put their mind to it, and I just tend to try. 

I tend to think of the professionals as those with "know-how".  They know what they are doing.  I'm just the one who reads about things, asks questions whenever possible, or falls asleep at night imaging different scenarios or angles, all in the attempt of solving a problem and fixing something.

But then, in the process of writing this blog, I look up the definition of "know-how", not to know what it means, but to see if it is a hyphenated word or not.  The first definition is what I expected: "The knowledge and skill required to do something correctly."  But below that was an "informal" definition, which was: ingenuity, aptitude, or skill".  I guess I do have "know-how", because what I think what I use to get things done is ingenuity.  I think skill is what I develop in the process of doing it.

With that said, I must say that I'm developing many more skills than I actually desire to have.  Patience is one of them, though patience and procrastination usually go hand in hand.  And as for the blog written by the older, skinnier, and shorter version of me (notice I didn't say "smarter"), all I've got to say is, I've been there and done that many times.  I've dropped all the things you can drop and ran into all the obstacles you can run into.  I have several new tools from my last attempt to fix a car, I once damaged my headlights just trying to change the bulb (I even had to buy a special tool to change the tail lights on one of my vehicles), and occasionally I've had to commit the cardinal sin of taking my vehicle to those with more know-how.

I may have more than you and someone else may have more than us, but this blog is just my attempt to welcome you to the club that many act as if I occupy alone - the club of know-how.

Big Mouth

I'm one of those people who can be extremely quiet in certain circumstances or shy away from people, just wanting to leave as soon as possible.  I'm also one of those people who sometimes get talking and feel like I need an intervention in order to stop.  I once worked at a large grocery and retail chain and an older woman complimented me on being soft spoken.  She said that it was a rare trait.  I took pride in that compliment.  But, there are also those who think of me as a big mouth, who doesn't know when to stop talking.  I guess I'm a little of both, but unfortunately, after a certain recent event, I think those on the 'big mouth' side of things may be vindicated in their belief.

I went to my periodontist to be diagnosed for TMJ because of a hearing problem I've been having, and they're asking me a lot of questions and taking measurements and such, and they asked me to open my mouth as big as I can.  Then they took measurements.  The dentist said "52", and the assistant said "52?", and the dentist repeated, "52!".  Then they both said that is the biggest measurement they had ever taken.  I'm not sure what the units of measurement were, but I'm not sure it matters.  All I know is that it is has just been scientifically proven that I have a very big mouth.  Now I'm just holding out hope that big mouths can be soft spoken too!

My Shadow

The other day I was outside working on my car when my wife pulled in the driveway and my son ran from the car and past me into the house.  It wasn't long before he came back out and brought out some toys and tried to play with me while I leaned over the engine with both hands squeezed between the exhaust manifold and the thermostat.  I had to explain to him that I couldn't play because my hands were busy working on the car.  So, he asked if he could get in the car, and he played in the car while I worked on it.

It was the same week when I was looking up something on the internet and he brought his toys into the room to play with me, and cleverly turned a 9 foot long piece of plastic (the remains of a piece of Pergo floor trim), and attempted to feed it to me as if it were a gigantic spaghetti noodle that I had to slurp up.  I cooperated this time, sliding the pretend spaghetti along the side of my mouth as I slurped for nearly two minutes, and ended it with gasp for air and a stomach ache.  He wanted this act to be repeated several more times until he took his turn.

And so yesterday I thought I saw a moment to spend alone as I went to my bedroom for a moment as he watched a cartoon on TV, and I turned on the news and tried to have a quick bite to eat.  Then he ran into the room and exclaimed the usual, "I took your spot!" and suddenly didn't care about cartoons anymore.

There have been times when he just follows me from room to room to see if I will ever stop walking from room to room.  If I stop, he'd find a game to play, or perhaps just jump on top of me and call that a game.  If I keep going, he'll just call that a game and keep following.

I've tried going in my bedroom and locking the door, but that just leads to banging on the door, which leads to begging, and then rolling on the floor crying, and a complete emotional breakdown by the child on the other side, which means the door must open, which means he will immediately stop crying and come in.

"This is the problem", as my shadow likes to say.  But I know it's also very much not a problem.  If I ever lost the shadow I'd have to spend any free time I'd earn trying to figure out where it went.  I guess the worse problem would be not having a shadow.  I'd feel like a part of me were missing.  But even worse, this shadow chooses to do what I do and to be where I am.  It is not a part of me, but I feel the separation as it sleeps in the next room.  And when I wake in the morning I will wonder where it is until it finds me once again.

He is my shadow, and when he isn't, I become his.

I'm a Non-Fiction Kind of Guy

Why don't I blog more often?  I've always got something to write about.  But unlike Mark Zuckerberg, I think of things like whether I would offend someone.  I also think of things like getting sued, losing my job, or just regretting what I put online for years to come.  And it seems that everything going on in my life is one of those things that I just can't share without the consequences smacking me in the face.

If only I could write fiction!  If only I could make up stories from scratch!  I probably could just change a few names and places so that no-one would know.  But this blog is read by so few, anyone reading it would likely know me and see through my clever alterations.  But if I could write those completely original works of fiction, I could blog all day long.

I guess I need to get to the point where blogging isn't just a rant about life.  Maybe then I could create a work of art and just enjoy sharing it with the world.

When that day comes, I'll post something, and all two of this blog's readers can make comments about what a great writer I am.  And I'll post more and I'll have at least one post per month, and maybe even two or three per month, and everyone will eagerly await my next super-entertaining and non-fact-containing blog post.

Until then, I guess this is all we've got.

I went and saw Michael W. Smith and Amy Grant in concert the other night.  Amy Grant was the "warm-up" act, which kind of surprised me.  Everyone stayed seated for the entire time she performed, which seemed kind of unusual to me.  I thought that maybe it was just a very conservative glued to their seats kind of crowd.  I didn't want to get up unless at least a few people around me did, and that never happened.

Eventually Michael W. Smith came out and played piano for some of the songs they wrote together.  The crowd liked that pretty good.  Then it was time for his concert, and every started clapping and rose to their feet, and I realized everyone was there to see him.  After a worship song or two, I overheard a man behind me say, "now that's a Christian song".

Amy Grant sang a lot of her early songs that were very biblical.  There were songs about not compromising your faith and values, and songs about how the simple godly life a Christian leads can be more important in God's eyes than "Hallelujahs".  And later more songs about God's word guiding our steps, and songs about looking forward to heaven in light of the evil in the world.  I honestly think the comment about finally hearing a Christian song was a snapshot into the minds of a lot of people glued to their seats that night, and it reminded me of how judgmental Christians can be.  I know of another person who refused to go to the concert because of not liking Amy Grant (anymore).  And yet, Michael W. Smith admitted to using Cocaine before signing his first record deal, and he seems to be acceptable to all the Amy Grant haters.  Her ex-husband remarried and divorced, and has been arrested for DUI in recent years, but I guess he's just off of everyone's radar.

I guess I have just started feeling bad for her.  She is very cognizant of her mistakes, pointing out that she and Michael W. Smith had between them been married 3 times.  She talks a lot about not knowing where life was going to take her, and similar comments about her life, and her past.  She seems to me to be someone that not only has had to deal with the reality that is true of all of us - that she is a sinner, but she also seems to be someone that has had a lot of pointing fingers remind her of it for many years, without really knowing any of the detailed circumstances of her life.

That doesn't keep people from their hatred, though.  I told my wife that night that since there's a "Friends of Amy" fan club, I bet there's an "Enemies of Amy" site also.  Well, maybe not by that name, but I did find sites claiming she was flashing the "Satanic Salute".  Others that said she "worships Satan".  Others that said that because of her divorce she can never represent the Christian community in any way.  It just goes on and on.

I'm guessing the people in the audience didn't know of her Satanic ties, otherwise they probably would have been more critical of Michael W. Smith for cavorting with her.  Whatever level of dissatisfaction they had with her, evidently silence was the perfect way to express it.  For me, the silence was deafening, a little stifling, and very strange.  For Amy Grant, it was probably just another day.

Vacation

I don't feel very qualified to write about vacations, because though I've found places I'm very happy with, it always seems like the people I know have been to many more places, but if you've never been there, you probably will have trouble believing your eyes when you first see Western Michigan.  Our locale of choice has been Ludington, Michigan for a few years now.  It's the kind of place that makes you wish you had a better camera.

These pictures were taken with a 5 year old $99.00 camera with a small lens and hardly any zoom.  Imagine how much better it would look in person...

I'm not going to Ludington this year, though I think I'll probably miss it.  I'm going to take a road trip to some places that I've been told are even more scenic.  There are a ton of places to visit, but if you've never been to Michigan's West Coast, Ludington is a great place to start.

The End of the World

I checked out the weather forecast.
It appears the world is ending soon.
4 to 6 inches of rain may happen in our area.
Damaging winds, hail, and tornadoes all likely.

I guess the tornadoes are more of a certainty than the 4 to 6 inches.
I'm not sure of the importance of grammer in meteorology.

I should have gotten one of those emergency weather radios that turn on when there's emergency weather,
but it's hard enough to sleep during a storm without some stupid radio waking you up every 15 minutes.

Have you ever tried to take cover and discovered your home wasn't built for taking cover?
Hopefully it was built for winds, hail, and tornadoes ... and maybe 4 to 6 inches of rain.


We have a hallway we go to so that we can get away from the adjoining rooms full of windows that will surely break into hundreds of pieces and fly down the hallway we go to.

I like going to the movies during storms.  It's probably safer than staying in the house, and if the power goes out I stand a good chance of getting a refund.  Now that's what I call a deal!

I have three minutes to finish this blog.  I need to get sleep to prepare for the big day tomorrow, you know, because of the storm and all, and the ensuing end of the world.

I'm down to one minute.

Chaos

The word "chaos" probably means something a little different to different people.  For me, it signifies stress and disorder - all the crazy out of control aspects of life.  Things I would change if I could, but I seemingly cannot.  I guess if I got down to it, with few exceptions I would say that life is chaotic.  Life is chaos.

On the other hand, I have been known to see chaos as something to long for - at least more consistently.  Sometimes so many things happen when I least expect it, I figure at least if the same things would keep happening, I'd find some comfort in the predictability of chaos.

I guess it's a variation on "if you can't beat them, join them".  If I can't eliminate the chaos, I'll try to manage it.  I'll try to normalize it, accept it, and call it by a different name... "life".  But even under a different name, it still has the same effect on me.

I have a specific memory of being on a Bass Fishing Boat on an inland lake in Michigan.  It was summertime on a quiet clear day near the shoreline.  Though we could quietly move with the trolling motor, the lily pads would keep us from drifting.  I saw a frog jump from pad to pad, and on the edge of the shore, about 20 feet or so from me was a deer drinking from the water.  For me, that was the most peaceful moment I can remember.  I've often thought of getting a boat, and this memory is the biggest reason why.  I know I'd be content with a 16 or 17 foot Bass Tracker from Pro Bass Shops, because that is the boat that made this memory possible.

That moment, however long it was, was not chaos, but peace.  And though life does offer a bit of peace from time to time, I think heaven stands in opposition to our current circumstance primarily because of this difference.  The chaos of life, or the difficulty of it, or the pain in it are all contrasted with the peace offered by heaven.  Some people think of Jesus' title, "The Prince of Peace", in terms of pacifism and ending war.  But for me, it's calming the sea, quieting my mind, and taking the burden of controlling life out of my hands and into his own.

Like that day on the lake, I need to focus on Jesus and his words, "I am going to prepare a place for you."  He is more than one fleeting day in the past, overwhelmed by the years surrounding it.  He is my future, and in that future, the chaos is gone.

Baby Steps

I remember the time when my son didn't walk or crawl.  He rolled.  He was the best roller I ever saw.  He made an art of it.  It always seemed like he looked across the room and set his mind on getting somewhere, planned out his strategy, and started his maneuvers.

With determination on his face, he would roll to a piece of furniture, use his feet to spin till he faced the proper direction, begin rolling again till making it to his next predetermined position, make the necessary adjustments and efficiently proceed to whatever he had set his mind on.

It's interesting how this compares to adults who have difficulty getting where they want to go in life.  We call it baby steps when we make short steps of progress, but when I think of my son, it seems he turned the phrase around.  He merely rolled, yet his determination and achievement were more the end than the beginning.

I know that part of accomplishment involves moving beyond our childhood, but I think another part of it is retaining our childhood.  Sometimes achieving a goal has more to do with remembering what we've left behind than where we are going.  Though it may seem a foreign and distant place, the other side of the horizon may be where we began.