Out of touch

My alarm clock has a very special feature near and dear to my heart: a snooze feature. Now, you may want to say "but... Ed... all alarm clocks have a snooze button".

Bah.

My alarm clock has a snooze button too. But my alarm also has a snooze feature. What is this feature? A thermal sensor on the front of the alarm clock determines when your hand is being waved in front of the clock and it uses this motion to activate the snooze feature. So, this morning, I hit the snooze "feature" several times without ever touching the alarm clock.

As I went through my day I found myself in the restroom at work. I noticed that the toilet would flush without me needing to depress a lever.

Going to the washstand I was able to put soap on my hands by magically holding them underneath an automatic soap dispenser.

I washed my hands under a faucet that automatically turned on water.

I then retrieved paper to dry my hands from a sensor-driven paper dispenser.

I can trigger alarms, throw switches, turn on lights, get soap and water and flush toilets for nothing more than a wave of the hand. Of course, sometimes the sensors don't pick up that first (or second, or third) wave, as was also the case today.

So, I am in front of a paper towel dispenser, trying to dry my hands on paper towels, waving like mad to make this machine acknowledge my presence. It was a fast wave. An ugly wave.The kind of wave an over-protective parent waves to their child when they board their first bus to school... running down the sidewalk after the bus... calling the kid's name...not looking where they are going... wax on... wax off... yeah, it was one of those waves. I doubt the Queen of England would get such handily dispensed paper towels with her far subtler wave.

Having air-dried my hand long before this machine dispensed adequate paper products I couldn't help but ponder the looming tsunami of sensors and how they were slowly pushing my out of touch with the things around me. Sorry, call me old-school, but I want my cause and effect to be more tactile. One day, I fear, my hands will evolve into more efficient sensor-triggering flippers.

At what point do we stop living life and start simply conducting it? How near is the time when my hands will move frantically up and down, left and right, orchestrating the motion of the automatons surrounding me?

At what level of abstraction do we just go numb?

Clearly, we are not at that point yet as I have waved my hands over the "generate interesting blog" sensor repeatedly and this is all that has spit out so far. So, I will nod in the general direction of the "save blog" sensor, blink at the monitor power button, and clap my hands until this chair carries me into bed.

---

As it is past midnight -- another late night! -- please make note of the scene that will play out in the morning: At 7am the alarm will go off and I will be somewhere buried deep under covers. A single t-shirted arm will stick out from underneath this pile and wave in wild arcs in what, I will hope, is the general vicinity of my alarm clock. Linda, who gets up before me, has observed days where my wild arm gyrations get no-where near the alarm clock. Many has been the morning where my clock's cresendoing buzzer induced a humorous escalation of arm flailing.

Apparently, twice, I have almost knocked out a cat.

-Ed

No doubt about it

It has been way too long since I've been able to blog. How come the more full and busy life becomes the less time we have to absorb it and communicate it?

Lately, I've been getting my writing fix at work with proposals and papers. It's a busy time and, at times, I feel like I get paid to read science fiction.

Finals are next week and, after that, I promise I'll be back to a more regular schedule. Deep apologies to those regular readers who have inquired about my absence.

I've already tried to figure out a new schedule for posting. It's 1:30am and I've got an early morning meeting tomorrow. yuck. Hopefully I can get into a groove and start posting from work at lunch. 8)

-Ed

Gimmie a Ticket for an Air-o-plane

Ain't got time to take a fast train... lonely days are gone, I'm a goin' home, my baby just-a sent me a letter.

Ok, that's a bit of a stretch but entirely true if by "baby" I mean conference and by letter I mean acceptance of an abstract submission.

You see, I sent out some abstracts to some conferences several months back and just found out that my abstracts were accepted at both conferences. Normally, this would be very exciting news! There is really only one thing that makes these acceptances kind-of a bummer:

The first conference, in San Jose, California, is one week before Linda is due to give birth.

The second conference, in Valencia, Spain, is one week after Linda is due to give birth.

Now, you try and tell a pregnant wife that you are going to plan to be on the left coast the week before the delivery date and will be in a different country the week after the delivery date. Go ahead... find your pregnant wife and tell her... I'll wait.... hmmm... ticktickticktick.... waitwaitwait... Back yet? Left eye swollen a little? Can't quite move that right arm? Now you catch my drift.

I think I can get co-workers to cover for me, no problemo. Nevertheless, it is amusing how the timing of things can often conspire. Personally, I'm no fan of travel so perhaps it was best that I had an excuse to not attend these events. 8)

-Ed

Death Becomes Us

By the age of 12 I had been to more funerals than -- I thought -- some others did in a lifetime. If Rucks funeral home gave frequent flyer miles I was sure, no doubt about it, that I had earned at least two complimentary cups of coffee and privileged seating in the beat-up barcaloungers in the family recovery room.

I grew up in a large Italian family and many of my aunts and uncles and extended relatives decided to leave this earth en masse -- over the course of a decade my family numbers were cut in half. There were times, I am sure, when my mother questioned whether to send my child's suit to the cleaners for fear of when it would be needed next.

I have been to funerals for people who have died very young. I've been to funerals for those who have died very old. I've been to funerals for those who have left us suddenly, and for those who had time to say goodbye. I've seen all emotions at funerals... shock, happiness, rage, fear, gentle saddness, and plain acceptance. I could write a Dr. Seuss book: Oh The Funerals I've Seen.



And every last one of these funerals has placed in me a single thought:

Ed, buddy ol' pal, you are gonna die and this world is gonna keep on rotating along without you.

It's a thought I keep with me constantly, much to the consternation of anyone who has ever spoken with me on the subject. I guarantee you it made me one heck of a troubled 12 year old.

But I have seen some small benefit from the lingering consciousness of my human condition: I try really hard. I approach things and think "how can I make my mark on this new thing". Some people, I'm sure, see this as arrogance or competition. It isn't, really. I just need to do everything I do as best as I can do it. Why?

Ed, buddy ol' pal, you are gonna die and this world is gonna keep on rotating along without you.

Does the constant morbidity help? I'm not sure... I know Halloween has become my favorite holiday, though. I also know that I don't mind so much when I fail at things anymore because I know I gave it my best. I also know that I fail at fewer things than I used to. And I also know that when our frail and human condition is paraded in front of my mind -- as was the case with the two funerals I attended last week -- I am no longer filled with the desperate, fearful urge to improve my life.

I know too many -- myself included -- who at some point were hit with a familial death that shook them to the very root of their being. We had all experienced the dread of "is it too late to change my ways". Perhaps like Scrooge... "Oh spirit of Christmas future, are these images of things that will be or of things that might be?"




In this vein my favorite movie scene was the ending of "Saving Private Ryan" when an elderly Ryan comes to visit Arlington National Cemetary and tearfully begs his wife to confirm that he had, indeed, led a good and worthwhile life. It is a universal quandry to see people go before you, younger or older, wiser or not, and to sit back and wonder: What cosmic humor leaves me standing to carry on contributions to the human race?

So how do we go on? How do we live lives of meaning? After 31 years, my best answer to that is perspective -- to know where we are in time and space and what new things we can put our mark on. What is the most effective perspective-giving tool in my emotional toolbox?

Ed, buddy ol' pal, you are gonna die and this world is gonna keep on rotating along without you.

Who knew Death was such a motiviational speaker? I've completely sidestepped faith in this blog entry as I don't like to talk about religion or politics in a public forum. Suffice it to say that I have enough to get me through my day and still have thoughts on these issues.

But putting faith aside for just a moment, there is something in death that spurs us forward, once the grief has gone: We become those who bear the responsibility of remembrance and the carriers of our familial legacies. We are reminded that we must live as much as we can while we can not just to honor those who cannot but because we realize, one day, that we also will not.

As such, and in only respectful ways, these deaths become us. I will consider myself lucky and happy if, when I take my turn, someone looks at me not there anymore and is shaken to their core to go out and live their lives as much as they can, while they can, for them and for the memory of me.

Until then, and as always...

Ed, buddy ol' pal, you are gonna die and this world is gonna keep on rotating along without you.

-Ed

Freeze Frame

A few days ago I pulled out *the cardboard box*. What is *the cardboard box*? No, it is not the box of unicorn figures I had when I was a kid (long story... you trying growing up with sisters sometime). It was *the cardboard box* of pictures or, as I like to call it, The Kodak Burial Ground. This is the place where photo-memories go to die and I was tired of it taking up space in my office. So, I began the process of categorizing these moments from my personal history.... pictures of me as a baby, as a toddler, highschool and college. Wedding pictures. Family pictures. Dog pictures. Cat pictures.

Over the next few days I'll be posting individual pictures and some wonderful stories that accompany them.

-Ed

My genes

Here's something you won't often hear me say:

Thank you, mom and dad, for such good genes.

You see, a few weeks ago, I went to the dentist. Now, clearly, that isn't something that is overly amazing.. we all go to the dentist regularly every 6 months, right? Right? Well... for me it had been a little longer than that. Well.. ok... for me it had been alot longer than that.

I hadn't been to the dentist in 8 years.

I know.. I know... eww.. gross. But I brush alot, I swear. So Linda and I decided it was time to bite the bullet (no pun intended) and head on over to the ol' dentist. Our local dentist has a motto -- We Cater to Cowards -- that describes us to a tee. In fact, I was so nervous going in that I thought their motto said "We Cower to Caterers" which, if you think about it, makes some small semblance of sense for a dentist.

So, laying back on the dental chair I had to inform the poor woman about to clean my teeth that my pearly whites had not received professional attention for a very long time. I apologized profusely. I would have rather sent this woman to Iraq than my oral cavity.

But, then came the surprises. No blood from the teeth cleaning! My gums were, so to speak, in the pink. There was some plaque build-up but nothing that a good half hour with the sonic-thingy couldn't take care of. Then, the dreaded X-ray results where, I was sure, my teeth could be compared to the surface of the moon -- well cratered.

And, Lo and Behold, no cavities showed up on the X-ray. A few surface pits that should be filled in at some point, but no real cavities. Wow. As I left the dentist pushed toothbrushes and floss in my hands, looked me in the eye, and said "you are the luckiest patient I've ever seen. Your teeth have an incredible resistence to cavities."

So, slightly cleaner of mouth, I drove home thinking something I had not thought in quite some time: Thanks for all the good teeth genes!

-Ed

The speed of sound

I have decided that I will, starting now, start travelling a little faster than the speed of sound. It is my hypothesis that, with such velocity, I should stay a little bit ahead of whatever news is trying to reach me. I'll be ignorant, for sure, but after the week I've had, I could use a little ignorance.

Yes, you guessed it, this is one of those self-centered laundry-list blog entries that I cut on so much. No insight, no entertainment, just a list of where on earth I've been in the past week.

Last Tuesday
I went to the dentist! Yay! teeth cleaning! Yay! Forgot to get a blog in about that before all heck broke loose.

Last Tuesday
Last Tuesday morning, the day after we found out about Mark and Paula, my sister-in-law's sister succumbed to pancreative cancer. I have had a somewhat ethereal bond with my sister-in-law as this was the same disease that took my father some years ago. This woman was able to fight off late-stage pancreatic cancer for almost 3 years and passed away peacefully in her home with her husband.

Last Thursday and Friday
The vieweings were last Thursday with the funeral Friday.

Last Friday
Deciding that I needed the good company of some friends (and seeing as it was the last day in March) the March poker night was last Friday. Thank you, again, all who came out. It was good to have some laughs -- they had been few and far between last week.


Last Friday
Of course, my 10 page paper which was due Saturday morning was not completed yet, as I had spent the week mourning. So, it was up until 3am after poker night to get it all done.

Last Friday
Someone I knew called me and told me they were getting confirmed and asked if I would attend the service. There was some scheduling thing which explained the short notice and I said I would try to be there.

Last Saturday
Up at 7am -- I slept in! I make a mad dash to get cleaned up, and off to school, 35 miles away. I stay in class from 8:30am until 9:30am. Hand in my 10 page paper. I'm dressed up in a suit.

Last Saturday
Head from class to confirmation #1, 40 miles away at 10:30. Make it with about 10 minutes to spare. Hang out. Good times. Congratulations! It was a terrific service, and I'm glad I went as it gave me some nice, positive energy for the rest of the day.

Last Saturday
Head from confirmation #1 to confirmation #2, also 40 miles away. I'm my niece's confirmation sponsor and had to be at the church by noon. This was the longest confirmation mass I had ever, ever attended. We finished at 3pm. Old people were fainting in the back of the church, no lie.

Last Saturday
After a 2 hour nap at my sister's house, it was off to my niece's school play: a 6pm dinner of salad, popcorn, and inedible chicken (it really was inedible, and I'll eat anything) followed by a two hour 8th grade performance of a play called "When in Rome".

Last Saturday
Home at 10:30pm. Bed. Sleep.

Last Sunday
I've another piece of furniture in the works, pictures forthcoming. It should be done this weekend.

Tuesday
Today is my sister's birthday.

Tuesday
We had a Dr's visit. Project Lentil is coming along nicely. Heartbeat is strong and we are on target. Linda is super excited because she is gaining no more than the recommended weight and still looks hot in most of her clothes. 8)

Wednesday (tomorrow)
We are off to LaPlata, MD for Paula and Christen's viewing with funeral to follow on Thursday.

Whew. Unfortunately, all of this stuff just saps emotional energy and that is precisely the kind of energy I need to blog.

So, here is the laundry list, the play-by-play, the had-to-do list. Is this possibly interesting to those not me? Probably not -- I'll make no delusion that my daily comings and going are followed by others. But it does, hopefully, explain the absence from my blog site.

Content is coming.


-Ed