Category Archives: General

Hell

I spent the day in Joplin, Missouri digging through the ruins of my friend’s home.

My friend, best man from my wedding and occasional canoeing buddy, English teacher Jeff Page, lived at 2301 Pennsylvania in Joplin. His home was completely destroyed by an F5 tornado on Sunday, May 22.

Jeff managed to survive the storm by standing in a doorway between the front room and his kitchen. It was an older home, one with the kind of wood that creeked elegantly as you went up the stairs, and likewise, had some decent wood throughout the home. He had a crawlspace, but the storm was on him so fast, he didn’t have time to get to it.

Somehow, he survived.

He showed me the hole he crawled out of after his home collapsed on him. He managed to escape with only a sprained ankle and 20 cuts, although he hasn’t found his cat, Cranberry. Jeff told me, “The only thing I am really upset about is losing the cat!”

This is the hole my friend, Jeff, crawled out of to get to safety after his house collapsed around him.

Our mission today was simple: Do whatever we could to recover anything of value Jeff wanted to keep. We recovered only a few handfuls of items. Some of that wasn’t in great shape after having been rained on for a few days after the storm. I was pretty proud of my ability to find a few coins he was interested in finding, but I wish we could have recovered more.

The front of the house destroyed by the tornado.

A quick sidenote: Interestingly enough, Jeff’s car wouldn’t start – no click, no turn, nothing. I’ve heard there are other similar stories after the storm. I found this curious: Can tornadoes emit an electromagnetic pulse?

No matter what’s shown in the media, you’ve already realized it doesn’t compare to seeing it in person. The air was thick. The smell of gasoline and oil wafted around us as we worked. The drone of chainsaws echoed around the  remains of the splinters that used to be called a neighborhood.

There were about 10 of us total throughout the day, working from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Our efforts were stymied by the huge mass of wood, shingles and other materials that was seemingly unmovable. The rest will likely end up in a landfill, burned, or whatever they do in times like these. At the end of the day, we can say we did our best, recovered a few things and all of us celebrated the survival of our friend through the storm.

"In prosperity your friends know you. In adversity, you know your friends." — Unknown

As we left, my wife and I traveled east through Joplin to survey more of the damage. I can describe it best as hell. At several points I realized I wasn’t sure where I was while I was driving. Recognizable landmarks were gone. Street signs were nonexistent. I grew up very close to Joplin and have been down these streets many, many times. That bit of “home” for me doesn’t exist anymore. It’s dead.

I really don’t know the people of Joplin move forward. There’s so much to clean up. Rebuilding will take years. The grief of getting over the loss of loved ones will take a lifetime.

Kiss your loved ones. Do things that matter. Don’t waste your life. Be prepared for the storms.

They will come.

Update (11/08/2011): On November 7, 2011, Jeff was reunited with his cat, Cranberry, who ended up making it through the storm after all and was found by an animal rescuer.

Rear-ended

“I’m sorry we’re late,” my wife says as she begins unloading our daughters from our van. “We were rear-ended.”

Seeing they were OK, I examined the bumper. There wasn’t any noticeable damage and she assured me she had the driver’s information.

“He said he was sorry,” she continued. “He said he got distracted looking at a girl.”

I chuckled.

“I understand,” I said with a smile.

So remember, guys, gals and phones can distract – please keep your eyes on the road.

Staring down the barrel

I overheard my co-worker on the phone a couple of days ago talking to her dad.

Money is running tight, his wife has been sick on and off again and his social security and retirement isn’t quite going far enough. Oh sure, he saved for retirement. He invested and did the right things and they don’t live in an extravagant house.

His investments took a hit after 9/11 and housing crash and with food and energy prices going up, he’s back on the job hunt. He’s 71 years old.

It’s stories like him and that of my childhood neighbor that make me think we’re living in a fantasy land of doom. For those of us “lucky” enough to be able to invest, if we think our 401(k)s/mutual funds/insert corrupt investment tool here is going to be enough to care for us when we’re older then we might be fooling ourselves.

For those who can’t afford any of that retirement planning, you might be better off (if the lack of health care doesn’t do you in first).

Quite honestly, I don’t want all that when I’m older. I want it now while I can still pull up my pants without needing help and can walk two blocks and still remember who I am.

I’m in a weird place right now. Beliefs are being challenged. Black is white, up is down, passivity has turned to rage.

I’m OK with all of that. At least I’m not complacent.

Stranger in a strange land

March Madness has started.

I’ve never liked basketball. I don’t hate it; I admire those who can play it because I acknowledge it’s a game of skill and endurance.

But it’s not my thing. Living in Lawrence,  Kansas, that makes me an odd duck.

Really, I’m OK with that.

This post is not about Charlie Sheen*

Technology can be a real drag sometimes.

*But touches on similar self-infatuations.

Saturday evening I was in Kansas City and took a wrong turn that took me over the bridge into North Kansas City.

After driving for what seemed like hours (but was only a few minutes) I found a place to turn around. But before I headed back over the bridge I stopped to the side of the road to whip out my iPhone and confirm which way I needed to go. My gut was right, but it was nice to have the confirmation. I hopped back on the road, went over the bridge and then connected to I-70 and returned to Lawrence.

Whew! It’s a good thing I had this modern wonder of technology and didn’t have to drag out that archaic map from the glove box.

Well, that’s something I’ve been thinking about for some time now. I’m around a free Wi-Fi connection both at work and at home, covering about 90 to 95 percent of my day. Those other times I’m on the road or in a dead spot in a building that causes the iPhone to automatically switch over to AT&T’s wireless network that I am a subscriber of.

What I’ve really been wondering is, do I need to be this connected?

Don’t get me wrong. I’m a HUGE fan of this wonderful internet of ours. Heck, it puts food on my table, clothes on my back and so on. But I’m becoming less convinced being connected all the time is a must have.

My data plan is unlimited (grandfathered in from a day when AT&T wasn’t as greedy) at $30 per month and I pay $5 more for 200 text messages. Of course, that’s on top of my phone plan – which I very rarely use – in addition to similar fees we pay for my wife who also has an iPhone. All told, it’s around $140 a month for two iPhones each with voice, data and SMS features.

Is it really worth it?

Yes, it’s nice not to have to carry around a phone and a iPod – which I’d be lost without during the day – but for as little as I use my phone, I could get a pay-as-you-go plan, turn the volume up loud and stick the sucker in my backpack should someone need to call me. I could even take the money I’m saving and get a phone number through Skype and still come out way ahead.

It’s not about the cost, but it is about waste. I’m starting to feel I’m wasting money on something pretty frivolous: the convenience of communication. Can I keep justifying this?

Lastly, I’m really getting annoyed with society’s (self included here) growing infatuation with touchable machines. My parents, sister, brother-in-law and nephew came up last weekend for a visit. They all (save my nephew) have an iPhone. Of course, we reached a point where the phones came out and the playing began. Pictures! Games! Movies! Apps! It’s so amazing!

Is this technology making people less amazing?

I’m actually missing my RAZR now.

What have I become?

Missing the mark

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about the Five things to achieve in 2011.

Number five on that list was Finish some personal projects. Mostly, when I say projects I mean websites. I have a large number of ideas that get accumulated in my Action Method subscription and a good chunk of them are web-related.

In the last week, I’ve seen two similar ideas launch. It’s not that I don’t want competition – I’m a big fan of it, actually. But what really sticks in my craw is that I didn’t get either of them done this year. Welcome to the world of me: full of ideas, half-full on the skills to make them happen, empty on execution.

In the last six months I’ve spent an enormous amount of time working on projects for other people. It’s not like I don’t like helping others out – be it for money or pro bono – but it’s taken away from the limited time I have to work on things for me.

At the beginning of 2010 I had similar plans. I had an aggressive strategy mapped out for launching three homemade projects, but only got one of them out the door. I might be a little too hard on myself. We did buy a house in May, and I managed to launch the Free Kids Meals and Deals! website, too. But because I was busy doing additional web work, I didn’t get to spend that time making the things I want to make.

I’ve definitely missed the mark on the things I wanted to achieve in 2010 and I’m a little bummed about it.

When the chips are down

“You got to know when to hold ’em/Know when to fold ’em/Know when to walk away/And know when to run”

Kenny Rogers, The Gambler

When I moved to Lawrence in early 2000, I was working in the newspaper industry as a reporter and page designer. Part of my job was to post things to the newspapers’ websites and over time, I got to thinking “I wonder how all this works.”

Curiosity was piqued.

After a few terrible attempts to get started learning about the web, I enrolled in what I call Borders University. I went to my local Borders bookstore, picked out an HTML book and got busy reading. I would take my lunch breaks and sit in my car reading my little HTML book, then I came home and worked in the evening on exercises and code from its pages. I picked up another book and did the same.

And then I got a call from an old friend who needed a website. “OK,” I said. “I’ll give it a shot.”

He was running for a seat in the Kansas senate and I built a website for him.

He didn’t win.

But the experience was enough to pick up another side gig and then another. I was excited. I really enjoyed learning about the web and how to create stuff for it. Hoping to explore the web in my full-time job, I angled to do more web work than simply posting content online. I had moved around to different news companies in the area and my then gig was pagination editor. It wasn’t too shabby. I enjoyed laying out pages for a daily newspaper and even had people kind-of-sort-of report to me.

They wanted me to keep doing that.

I wasn’t interested.

After fishing around for awhile, sure I’d never find anything with my level of experience (practically zero), I found a place in Kansas City that was willing to take a chance on me.

And that was that.

One of the most important books I read at that time was Do What You Are by Paul D. Tieger. It confirmed what I had already suspected: I was in the wrong field.

That was in 2004. I’ve been working professional on the web ever since.

It’s terribly cliché, but when the chips are down, perhaps that’s life telling you it’s time to change course. Maybe it’s time to figure out what you need to do to be happy. Maybe it’s time to figure out who you need to work with – or for – to find more meaning in what you do with your time.

It’s tough to say. Results may vary.

It’s worth taking a look, though.

Are you killing time or is time killing you?

In the spring of this year I was in my parents’ backyard when I suddenly smelled cigar smoke wafting over the fence.

I knew that smell meant Mr. Miller was out on his porch again. Mr. Miller and his wife had, for most of my life, been the next-door neighbor. About equally as long – 25 or 30 years, I don’t know – he would head out to his porch in the evening to smoke his cigar.

These days he gets to smoke a few more.

“Hello” I called out. “How’s retirement treating you?”

“Not very well,” he said.

A little taken back by his answer, I probed some more. Things hadn’t been going well since he had recently retired. He was having a few health problems. A scary thing happened the week before when he temporarily lost his eyesight. Yeah, one day he was out with his wife and then he couldn’t see. He told me that everything was really dark and blurry. It got better, but not without giving him quite a jolt.

Me too.

There were countless times I’d see Mr. Miller leaving for work and returning later in the day. He commuted as far as my dad does so there was nothing really that striking about his work.

What got to me that day was this: Mr. Miller put in his hard time, working faithfully for a company for decades, commuting the whole time and then finally got to retire. Now he has all the time in the world to do whatever he wants.

But, he can’t. With failing health, his most capable physical years were spent working. This event has impacted several decisions I’ve made this year such as buying a home, supporting my wife as she started her business and learning to ride a motorcycle.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not suggesting we all quit our jobs and go unbridled crazy. There’s a difference between risk and calculated risk.

I’m a big fan of calculated risk. Isn’t there something you’ve always wanted to do?

  • Weren’t you going to start that business and give it a go?
  • Was there someplace you’ve wanted to go or something to learn?
  • Do you need to resolve a friendship or forgive a family member?
  • Weren’t you going to have that one book read (or written) by now?
  • Didn’t you always want to get a pet?

Whatever it is – start making plans, now, for how you’re going to make it happen and follow those steps to make it reality.

Because one day you’re going to realize you’ve let time kill you slowly, or you’ve owned it.

So, which is it? Are you killing time or is time killing you?

10 things I hate

  1. Doing housework.
  2. Cold weather.
  3. Working before 4 p.m.
  4. Trying to have an adult conversation only to be interrupted by my children (still love them to pieces).
  5. Debt.
  6. Self-righteousness.
  7. Black or white thinking (there seems to be lots of grey in this world).
  8. Waking up before 10 a.m.
  9. Movie ticket prices.
  10. Ironing.

And you? (I once knew a person that hated that phase.)