I'm Back!

I have much to tell you, my friends. It has been an interesting winter: I have lived through many harrowing adventures during the past 6 weeks. I have battled yetis, endured the wrath of Mother Nature on multiple occasions, and have wrestled with the twin demons of career questions and parenting challenges. Yes, folks, there have been some rough spots. But by applying perseverance, strength of will, and the mystical healing powers of chocolate, I have survived to tell these tales...which I will endeavor to do over the coming few blog installments.

Let us begin by setting the framework. Throughout November and December, our workgroup was repeatedly told that layoffs were a-comin'. They promised that about a quarter of our staff would be unemployed by Christmas. Then, in mid-December, the story changed to where three people would lose their jobs in January, and it could be any of us. And oh by the way, everybody in the group has to give up their holiday break to work overtime on various proposals.

For some reason I haven't quite figured out, departmental morale was fairly low during this period. Christmas cheer and joyful holiday shopping sprees were replaced by muted grumbling and repeated visits to Monster.com. I cancelled my planned vacation with my son, and instead drove 80 miles each day to work on a proposal that lasted until the end of January.

The good news is that the team members were great to work with, and the project itself was interesting. The bad news is that there were snowstorms that turned the commute into a terrifying ordeal, and overtime requirements that left me deprived of exercise and bereft of sleep. Because of the constancy of workload and the long drive, my days consisted of getting up, going to work, getting home, and going to bed; rinse and repeat. The weeks passed by fairly quickly...but I'm at the stage of my life where I actually prefer to savor the hours, instead of having them blow past me like Usain Bolt racing Orson Welles.

But never mind all that. The point is that I have returned to what I hope is a normal schedule, with normal commute times and normal opportunities for workouts. And I'm hoping to get back on a semi-regular blogging schedule. But this whole "work getting in the way of life" thing has got me thinking: I plan to take an informal survey to see what percentage of my friends feel that their careers are an essential part of their identity and fulfillment...and how many look at their employment merely as a source of income to pay for the things they really care about. In other words, is business a pleasure?

I'll report the results here in a future posting. For today, enjoy the weather, and have a great day!

Knees

I'm tempted to begin this blog by waxing rhapsodic about the marvelous machine that is the human body; the feet that routinely handle thousands of steps per day, the joints that allow and support such diversity of movement, and the heart that provides all the components with the energy to keep on tickin'. From baseball to breakdancing -- from calligraphy to kung fu...the human body is capable of astounding feats of power, grace, and artistry.

I won't wax, though...rhapsodic or otherwise. (I'm not even sure what that phrase means, unless of course you're talking about Ralph Machio making Mr. Miyagi's car shine like Telly Savalas's head.) But I do think it might be worth a moment or two of quiet reflection about some of the amazing things we've all seen humans do. Here's a short list of some of the most memorable:

• Jason Lezak in the Free Relay in the Beijing Olympics


• Bruce Lee in Enter the Dragon


• Kurt the Henchman in Dr. Thunderfinger is Forever


• Arthur Fonzarelli


• Chuck Norris

So yeah, it's obvious that the human body is a wonderful and amazing machine.

Except for mine, that is. When I walk down the street, I feel like I'm doing the John Travolta BeeGee strut, but impartial observers treat me as if I'm The Mummy dragging my bandaged and decomposing corpse down the street. I get comments like: "Dude, are you OK?" "Good lord, what did you do?", etc. One time, Franklin D. Azar even handed me a business card and said "Whoever did this to you, we'll make them pay!"

Sigh. Some people have theorized that participating in the sport of running is the cause of my irregular gait, the pain in my knees, and the sporadic gasps and curses that pass my lips as I attempt to ambulate from point A to point B. They say that if I just stuck to healthy sports like (swimming, skydiving, and alligator wrestling, etc), I'd be happier, stronger, and more likely to be able to stroll the mall without frightening small children and ruining peoples' appetites.

Hmm. This could be true. Maybe. But I rather doubt it.

Everybody's different, but I'm pretty sure all my knee problems are simply caused by working too much. You see, I'm a regular Donald O'Connor when I run frequently enough, but am in pain when I spend too much time at the office. Sitting at a desk all day long -- that's the problem.

So what's the solution? Well, I'm sure there are people within my workgroup who think that the right answer is to put me on the layoff list. If I had no job, I'd have plenty of time to train, and would therefore have healthy legs. They have a point. But without a job, I'd also be without the ability to pay for the essentials of life: food, Dr. Pepper, high-speed internet, running shoes, etc. (Note to self for future quality-of-life blog topic: "Is life without ice cream really worth living?")

Option number 2 would be to discipline myself to make sure I move more frequently, regardless of office workload. That's probably reasonable. As much as I'd love to have 7 days a week of total freedom, I'm quite sure I'd miss the perks of a paycheck. So, as long as I'm still in pre-retirement mode, I should commit to standing up and walking around frequently throughout the day.

Unless I'm working on a proposal, that is. Then I'll just stay at the desk all day, skip blogging, socialization, and exercise...and then complain about it to anyone who'll listen. Then, when I'm doing the Karloff shuffle down the road, I can truthfully answer onlookers' concerned queries by saying, "Why yes, as a matter of fact I did get hit by a bus, and then attacked by rabid pygmies. Thank you for asking!"

But as long as I'm engaged in normal work, I shall keep a photo of Chuck Norris on my desk, and strive to move around enough to keep all my joints lubricated and all the muscles loose. If I forget, please remind me, OK? Thanks, and have a great day!

Kodos and Kang

"Your giant intellects are no match for our puny weapons."

The quote above is from "The Simpsons", spoken by a slimy green alien who is threatening the Earth by wielding a large buggy whip...immediately after the humans made the mistake of eliminating all weapons and embracing world peace.

Yikes! It's a chilling cartoon reminder of the folly of disarmament. Regardless how peaceful the Rooskies, Al Quaedans, and Kim Jong Illians might eventually become, we will still need the capability to protect ourselves from Bug Eyed Monsters (BEMs) who might attack us in anger over "My Mother the Car" episodes that are just now reaching their antennas across the vastness of the galaxy.

Anyway, the slimy green aliens on the Simpsons are named "Kodos" and "Kang". I probably should've known this, but I just discovered the other day that both of those names were used for villains on the original Star Trek series.

The character on the left above is "Kodos the Executioner" -- a politician who, in a humanitarian attempt to alleviate suffering among his people, implemented policies that resulted in thousands of deaths and made him a figure to be loathed throughout history. (I'm not necessarily saying that such a scenario has any parallels with any government situations we're seeing today, but I think it's safe to say that many of Gene Roddenberry's insights have proven themselves over the years to be quite relevant to situations here on earth.) In the show, Kodos escapes the wrath of his people and spends the rest of his life as an actor. This, too, is not without its real-life analogs; after all we have had actors who've gone on to be politicians. Gary Coleman ran for Governor of California, and Clint Eastwood was the mayor of Carmel by the Sea for a while. (I think there were a couple of others, but I can't recall who they were right now. Wasn't Jack Benny the Secretary of the Treasury or something? I forget.)

The character on the right is Kang. His story isn't nearly as dramatic; all he does is get into a few swordfights with Enterprise personnel, and ends the episode laughing with his arm around Kirk's shoulders. Not exactly a villain who strikes terror into the hearts of humanity, is he?

So it turns out that the Simpsons aliens are named after some pretty benign bad guys. And I guess that's appropriate, because they really don't cause too much trouble for any of our yellow-skinned animated friends. Still, it's interesting to know the backstory, isn't it?

But I bet I know the question you're asking right now: "What the heck does any of this have to do with Salt Mines?"

Well, perhaps this picture will help explain that:

OK -- What do these 4 portraits have in common?

No, I'm not going to make you wait for the answer. We'll discuss it right now: Obviously, they're all Star Trek villains, just like Kodos and Kang. And just like Kodos and Kang, they all turn out to be misunderstood, and not really all that evil.

The first one (the one who sorta looks like Hillary Clinton) is commonly known as "the Salt Monster"...and just like that we have our Hutchinson connection, don't we? The poor lady has a serious nutritional jones for sodium chloride, but instead of asking the Enterprise's cafeteria lady to give her access to the spare Morton's canisters, she makes the unfortunate (and logistically much more difficult, one would think) decision to suck the salt out of a few redshirts before Kirk and crew put a stop to her rampage. If she'd have just gone up to the Cap'n and asked politely "Jim, ol' boy, do you know of any place a gal can stock up on salt?", he'd have said "Why of course, old grody hag...we'll just drop you off in the middle of Kansas, and you can slither around the mines to your heart's content." All would have been well.

Communication is the key.

The second photo shows "The Gamesters of Triskelion" who are a group of disembodied brains whose entire existence consists of wagering quatloos on the outcome of sporting competitions. Again, they're not really evil...just bored. I don't remember exactly how the episode ends, but I think Kirk hooks them up with a couple of Frogger arcade machines and they all live happily ever after.

The third picture is the Horta. She's a silicon-based life form who wants nothing more than to raise her kids and watch her silicon-based soap operas. But since she looks like a hemorrhaged rock and tends to secrete caustic acid all over the floor, the humans who come to the colony don't readily relate to her. Again, it's all a matter of being misunderstood -- Once Spock performs a mind meld that takes grammar inconsistencies out of the equation, they can all talk it over and decide to get along just fine.

And the final dude is the amazingly versatile Clint Howard. I believe I've sung his praises in this space on numerous occasions. Despite being saddled with the baggage of being Dopey Opie's little brother, Clint has managed to use his unique appearance to maintain a successful acting career throughout the last 5 decades. And if I remember correctly, his Star Trek episode is the one that gave us the most inconsistent two-line dialog sequence in the history of television: "It's 1500 kilometers away. It must be a mile wide!" That one cracks me up every time I hear it.

So there you have it. As always, it is my pleasure to show you the mysterious connections between my maladjusted mind, mostly misunderstood monsters, and midwestern mines. I shall try really hard, though, to write the next few blogs without any references to cartoons or space shows. Maybe I'll join my journalistic counterparts and spend the next 100,000 words talking about John Elway.

Or not. I guess we'll all just have to wait and see what pops up. In the meantime, enjoy the wonderful weather, and have a great day!

Salt Mines

As every sophisticated world traveler knows, the town of Hutchinson, KS, provides tourists with some unique and interesting venues for broadening one's horizons with educational exhibits and unique visitation opportunities. The city limits sign at the edge of town proudly proclaims Hutchinson as "The birthplace of Terry A. Heggy -- world-famous author and crusader against the twin evils of communism and rap music!", but the town also boasts the unlikely combination of the Underground Salt Museum and the Kansas Cosmosphere.

[Well, OK, I confess that I don't know the exact wording on the Hutch city limits sign; I haven't been there in years, if you must know the truth. But I'm sure it says something like that.

And by the way, can someone let me know if the meaning of the word "manufactures" has changed since the ad above was created? Or is this one of those "use an s to represent other letters" things, like the founding fathers did by using an "f" to represent an "s"? Or was it just that the good folks in the salt business have more important stuff to worry about than spelling? I don't know.]

I shall leave it to the scholars and philosophers to divine why a small town in central Kansas hosts one of the premier outer-space science museums in the world; there doesn't seem to be a logical connection for that one. But it's pretty obvious why they have an underground salt museum: There just happens to be a HUGE salt mine hidden beneath the fruited plains above.

And this brings us to the topic of today's blog. When I was growing up, I frequently heard the expression "Off to the salt mines" to indicate that one was beginning one's work day -- that is, embarking on the journey to one's place of employment. The phrase stuck in my head, and to this day I'll say "I'm off to the salt mines" whenever I feel the need to publicly announce my intentions to leave for work. And for some reason, the Monday after New Years seemed an especially appropriate day for that particular utterance.

The phrase seems to connote cruel, hard labor under unfavorable conditions: Sweaty, backbreaking work in the confined spaces of a harsh and smelly environment. It's dark, difficult to breathe, and the only break you get is the 15 minutes after the noon whistle when you gulp down a stale sandwich from your black lunchpail, quickly slurp lukewarm coffee from your battered gray thermos, and listen to your semi-literate buddy Leon talk about playing pool with one-tooth Gus over to Elmer's place on Friday night last.

So..."Off to the salt mines." It's an excellent phrase to use when driving 40 miles to Louisville to work on a proposal...which is exactly what I'm doing this week.

Anyway, hearing myself talk about salt mines made me wonder if this particular expression had come to me as an artifact of having lived in Kansas...or whether it was a phrase also used by people who lived in exotic, saltmine-free places like Ohio and Cuba. I do not know. Perhaps you can give me some feedback...

My other salt-related memory from youth was being puzzled by the motto tagline on Morton Salt containers. "When it rains, it pours." I just couldn't make the mental connection between a flavorful food additive and cloud-borne weather phenomena. Why should using salt cause massive rainfall? Was this particular grocery item the substance they used to "seed" clouds when more moisture was needed? And what's up with the goofy chick carrying an open container and salting the sidewalk? Is her inappropriate prancing and grinning supposed to be some sort of drug culture reference? These questions plagued me whenever it was my turn to refill the family's salt shakers.

My mom eventually told me that the slogan meant that this particular brand of table salt wouldn't clump up from humidity like other brands might, and hence would "pour" even if you lived in Seattle. I treated this revelation with some slight suspicion, since she was the same person who had also told me that hot water freezes faster, and that swimming after eating caused stomach cramps.

But Mom was right on this one -- a bit of research revealed that the Morton company added magnesium carbonate to their salt to keep it flowing. They have since updated to calcium silicate, but the point is that it's one more example of how applied chemical engineering can drastically improve the quality of a food product. So take that, you PETA morons!

Since there's no question that salt mined from the bowels of Kansas is the preferred type for any culinary use, I find myself curious to have recently seen so many items advertised as being coated with "Sea Salt". What's up with that? Not only is it happening to peanuts, but even Wendy's has jumped on the sea salt bandwagon. Their french fries are now adorned with a sea salt label...and they are delicious!

But why sea salt? Is there something about being extracted from among fish poop and kelp that makes the sodium chloride from the ocean somehow more desirable? Or is it just a ploy to make ignorant consumers think a product is somehow "new" and "improved"? Will this become a trend, I wonder? Will we soon see products advertising that their salt has been obtained by draining Utah puddles...or evaporating Ben Affleck's sweat? I sure hope not.

The bottom line is that I don't much care where my table seasonings originate...only that they enhance the taste of my meals. But if you are thinking about taking a vacation, I really think you should visit Hutchinson. If you go there, be sure to drop by my birthplace. And have a great day!

2011 Resolutions

Here are my resolutions for the coming year. I will:

• Refrain from singing "Surfin' Bird" during staff meetings.


• Check into bionic replacement parts for the honked-up ankle that makes me such a lousy runner. I don't need Steve Austin parts, or even John Travolta parts; I could probably get by with something along the lines of Leonard Nimoy or Brent Spiner.


• Write entertaining blogs without relying so heavily on obscure Star Trek references.


• Forgive the Irish for the abomination that is U2. (It's not fair to hold the entire country responsible...after all, nobody blames all Americans for Lady Gaga, do they?)


• Reconsider Spielberg's offer to play Indiana Jones in his upcoming remake of "Attack of the Killer Tomatoes".


• Continue my tireless crusade against the evils of communism, email spammers, and Cirque du Soleil.


• Play guitar more, complain less.


• Learn how to spell M. Night Shamalam, er, Shaymalian, er...whatever.


• Be a better swim coach...which means creating tougher workouts and designing harsher punishments for the slackers. I shall strive for 2011 to become known as "The Year of the 400 Butterfly".

So here we go. Let's charge headlong into it and make this a good one right from the start, OK? As always, I appreciate your support, and have a great day!

2010 Scorecard

Before I share this year's Resolutions, let's check back and see how I did in reaching the goals I set for 2010. We'll take them one at a time.

• Avoid sushi—Successful! I did not eat any uncooked fish the entire year.


• Talk like a pirate more often—Partially successful. I probably did utter a few more "Arr"s than the previous year, but it probably wasn't enough for anyone to notice. I was hoping for associated side effects, such as chests of gold treasure, swashbuckling adventures, and world travels...but such a mild increase in pirate talk didn't seem to influence my life in any noticeable seaward direction. Sigh.


• Go shopping for discounted Reese's eggs the day after Easter—Unsuccessful. I'm not sure what happened, but I plumb forgot to do this one. I'm sure I compensated with other chocolate treats, but it's just not the same.


• Try to get the phrase "I am not Herbert" back into the popular lexicon—No luck on this one, either. The problem is that the majority of people I deal with on a daily basis ARE Herbert.


• Get tickets to the final game of the World Series, and enjoy the Rockies' dominant victory performance—Hey, Tulo got injured. That's the only reason this one didn't work out.


• Do more yoga—This one I did. There were a few problems with the idea, though. The first problem is that I really suck at yoga. No balance. Poor kinesthetic sense. Too many bean burritos for dinner the night before class -- that sort of thing. The second problem was that 24-Hr Fitness changed the class schedule and put in some sort of disco workout nonsense in place of the Thursday yoga class. The bottom line is that after some serious analysis, I've decided that my morning workout time was more productively spent in activities other than yoga. I haven't given up the idea of gaining better balance and flexibility, but such efforts shall be done in the privacy of my own home.

So, was 2010 a success? Well, if my resolution ratings are the only indicator, I'd say..."moderately". But there were other good things about the year that don't show up on the short list above. Um...I can't think of what they all were at the moment, but I'm sure there were many.

But what about 2011? What should I resolve for this year? Hmm. I'll have to think about that. I'll let you know tomorrow. In the meantime, let's all resolve to have a great year!