A Day in the Life of Chaos

The beautiful and intelligent Sanna Marin Former Prime minister of Finland There is a curious thing that happens as we age, the old become young and the young become older.  I know this seems odd, please allow me to explain.  When we are young we look up to those we understand.  Those that seem within reach.  Often they are young athletes or celebrities.  They are the idols that we hold and we admire their talent, ability and perhaps wisdom.  Suddenly, one day not so late in our lives a curious thing happens, our age surpasses them.  One day we turn on the television and that sports idol is suddenly younger then us.  With each passing day they look more and more like children. The aged warmonger and bringer of death  Vladimir Putin (Wikipedia) As we progress through life we look at those older than us as the sources of wisdom and guidance.  They are the echos of thought and life experience that we trust.  We look to them for advice and in the world around us, seek their steady hand t

There is an odd feeling of finality as you wait out the final days of your sentence.   Like a prisoner waiting for parole your life becomes gentler as you experience increasing work release. You have long seen what’s on the other side yet for 33 years it seemed so close but yet so far.   In a few short days I will be liberated but it comes with a calliope of associated feelings, some sweet, some sour.   Work in many ways is like a relationship.  It becomes a major part of your life and is the foundation of your routine.  Everything is scheduled around its needs and a significant part of your day consists of meeting the associated obligations.  Since I was a young man most of what I do, even in my personal life is governed by my job.  Like asking permission from a parent, supervisors exercise a god like authority evaluating, considering and permitting many facets of life.  In the case of the self-employed their lives are equally restricted by the needs of their businesses.  In the re

There are moments when society colludes to make you feel old.   It happens in an amalgamation of statements, occurrences and overt acts.   Those that commit the injustice really don’t even know that they are doing it, it just happens.   I am sure when I was younger I did the same.   The Atlantic magazine recently published a story about a couple attempting to live without WiFi, internet and cellular telephones.  They permitted the use of a land line.   The New York Times published an article about the anomaly of a quiet zone in West Virginia where because of proximity to a radio telescope, there is no cellular service and the consequential impact this has on life. I seem to recall some TV show where people had to live as they did in the 1800s.  Honestly I don’t understand this concept, if they wanted that they should have just gone and filmed the Amish.  Incidentally I don’t think the show lasted that long.  I suppose it was just not that exciting. The point is that from the perspec

In a way this posting is a form of “mea culpa.”  It is an act of contrition for a time of my life that when I look back, I feel sorry and ignorant.  I was a product of the society around me and in that I became what it wanted me to become.  As a man who tries his best to think logically and independently I am ashamed that I surrendered myself in the manner I did. I was the product of Alaska in the late 1960s and 1970s.  It was almost a frontier but not quite.  Alaskan’s proudly called it the “Last Frontier.”  Roads were still often dirty and dusty.  Nothing was manicured and most was created out of necessity as opposed to methodically planned.  Those that lived in the state were divided between a small subset of long term hardy Alaskans that arrived during World War II or an even smaller set that came before.  They were truly the hardy mountain man types.  The ones that had lines of seasons written in their faces like the rings of a tree.  My family was of a new class.  It was a group

Day Light Savings Time is horrible on so many levels.   Most of the world doesn’t copy us in our bi-annual American tradition.   Every year the news stories tell us our politicians are trying to end it yet it never comes to pass.   It is a relic of trying to save energy during a World War.   The spring forward, fall back torture continues year after year forcing us to change clocks and deal with interrupted circadian rhythms.   It means I drive home in the dark.   In Alaska growing up it was worse.   In the dark of winter you only had 6 hours of daylight and changing the clocks meant decreasing the daylight window on both ends.   As a child I lived in dark.   I went to school in the dark.   I came home in the dark.   I might catch a glimpse of the sun through a school window if I was lucky.   Summers were the only respite when we lived on the excess light.   These past few years have revealed what is likely the most diabolically evil reality of daylight savings that has proved to be

Today a couple of my coworkers with ages close to half mine asked me what I would do retired.  Do I have a hobby?  Like do I like to build models or something? One suggested submarines; I don’t know why.  I immediately thought about an odd coworker I once had who would build WW2 models in his house while his equally odd children were homeschooled.  I always imagined him hunched over with one of those extendable magnifying glasses putting the final touches on an SS officer standing beside his Panzer tank.   My visions then led me to the Illinois Nazi in the Movie “The Blues Brothers” who in one scene is sitting at a desk painting a ceramic eagle.  I didn’t really know how to answer the question. I really don’t have any hobbies.  I wish I did, but they take so much space and I don’t even know what interests me.   I told him maybe I would become a re-enactor.   I was joking but honestly it seems like it would be fun in a guy sort of way.  On second thought, maybe I don’t want to go sit i