20 years ago today

Certain memories from the elementary school years stick with you. Mine include practicing earthquake safety, the teacher who pointed at students with her crooked index finger, peanut butter and banana sandwiches that had a hint of Polo aftershave taste when my dad made them, and the Challenger explosion.

I was in third grade when the Challenger went down. Two third grade classrooms separated by a folding wall suddenly became one during our reading period. Fifty students huddled around the same television set as two concerned teachers tried to explain what was happening on the screen. It was a lot for a third grader to digest and it was all the adults talked about for weeks.

Twenty years have flown by and I keep reading about concerns over the NASA space program. It’s unsafe, it’s expensive, it’s this and that. My two cents: it’s a program that should be pursued with understanding by non-scientific folks (me included) that we don’t have all the kinks of space travel figured out yet but the more we continue improving on past experience and future ideas, the less accidents and more leaps we’ll make. A visit to a space center will open your eyes like it did mine; utterly amazing.

The driving force

There are mornings where I’m faced with two choices as I slide behind the wheel of the car: a) stay on track and head directly to work without passing "go" and collecting $200 or b) continue along the congested freeway until I find the appropriate anywhere-but-there exit. If decent public transportation was available along my route, I would not feel compelled to create such options for myself. However, seeing as that’s not an option, I officially declare a case of I’m-in-a-rut due to the overwhelming temptation of option b in recent weeks.

This week, however, has been the granddaddy of anywhere-but-there fantasies. After four years at a fairly decent gig, I see the need for change in my immediate future. I’ve considered leaving for several months but I found the driving force to set me into high gear on the job hunt: new management.

A classic CEO move has been discovered this week and idyllic masks have been removed. It’s the move where the new boss comes in promising unity, continued growth and the almighty open door policy. In hindsight, I realize my gut instinct of something isn’t right here while hoping I was wrong was…well, right. Fast forward three months and all I hear are complaints about the disappearing CEO. Essentially, the open door has slammed shut. Key people are being left out of important decision-making meetings, the CEO has formed the class system of new communication channels and too many people, my department and self included, are left in the dark. When the lights go out the scrambling of blame, low morale and bitterness can be heard in the far corners as someone tries to find the missing light switch. If this were a play I would curtsy and exit stage-left.

I will refrain from exiting until I find a new opportunity but there is no point staying in an unrewarding work environment. Time to grab the bull by the horns and make a change. Like moving, change is scary until you’ve actually gone through it. It’s time again to look forward to heading to work in the morning.

Observation tower

This is one view from the 360 degree observation tower at the de Young Museum Sunday in Golden Gate Park. The morning was slightly overcast but it cleared in the early afternoon.

(For whatever reason, the side of the observation tower in this photo is not visible.)

Enjoy the ride

This past week was tough. It’s one thing to say goodbye to a grandparent who has lived a long life, it’s a whole other ball of wax to say goodbye to a relative who had several good years left.

A death in the family is a reminder that life is short and we’re not as invincible as we thought. We don’t choose when things end but we do choose how to enjoy the ride, make the most of experiences and savor the memories.

If you’re depressed, get help. If you’re unhappy, make changes. Do whatever you can to avoid looking back on your rocker with a coulda, woulda, shoulda attitude. Sit on the rocker with stories from a life well lived, including the ups and downs, to share instead.

My uncle wasn't on his rocker when he passed but he sure had a great ride.

My uncle, the cool one

The call came a few hours ago. It’s the call from a loved one when you instantly know by tone of voice that something is wrong.

“He’s gone, isn’t he?” I asked my dad. My mom couldn’t make it to the phone because her brother, my uncle, just passed away. She was set to leave Wednesday to spend time with him in Sweden. Without another thought, I walked over to my coworker and friend and received the hug I desperately needed.

Having family spread out across continents can be difficult but no matter how far apart we are, we manage to stay in touch and make every effort to see each other when possible.

I spent most summers growing up in Sweden and each family member has left a unique impression on me through the years. My uncle was the cool one. He was this quiet, calm, stubborn gentleman who would unexpectedly make the most hilarious observation about any topic with a straight face. He thought before he spoke and his words were never sugar-coated. The family motto translated in English is the tone is raw but heartfelt. I was scared of him when I was younger because I wasn’t sure how to read his quietness, but we bonded the summer I spent a week sailing with him and my cousin Lotta. The three of us had a fantastic time circling various Swedish and Danish islands, stopping and renting bikes for a few hours and finding good places to bask in our surroundings.

As I grew older, our time together during summer and the occasional winter was always better than the last visit. My uncle would drop by with breakfast buns fresh from the bakery or I would be invited to my uncle and aunt’s home for delicious homemade meals. We would sing snaps visor, drinking songs, during gatherings and I have saved all the letters I received as my uncle preferred to keep his computer, a gift from my cousins, in the attic rather than succumb to the age of technology.

Because my uncle had Leukemia for years, I wasn’t prepared for his health to take a turn for the worst this quickly. With the news steadily declining in recent weeks, I learned to finally accept it. My cousins managed to shift work schedules to be there for my uncle and aunt as he passed away and that speaks volumes about how important they are to each other. I wanted to be there but my mom assured me that it was best that only the immediate family was there. Part of me is grateful that my last image of my uncle is the one from my 2004 visit, pictured here, enjoying drinks and crayfish into the long summer night.

I love him, miss him and will remember him.

I didn't mean it... I swear

Oh, how quickly some will change their tune when $50 million is on the line.

Pat Robertson, (extreme) television evangelist, publicly remarked last Thursday that Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon’s recent stroke was caused because he was “dividing God’s land.” That’s a very twisted statement and sadly (too) many listen to Robertson, a man who apparently means what he says…that is, until yesterday.

Robertson wrote a letter to Sharon’s son apologizing for "remarks which I can now view in retrospect as inappropriate and insensitive in light of a national grief experienced because of your father's illness." I think I just lost my appetite.

Robertson apologized because Israel threatened to exclude him, and those who shared his thoughts on Sharon's stroke, from a proposed $50 million religious heritage site in Israel.

I bet $50 million (in Monopoly money) that Robertson wouldn’t bother apologizing if money wasn't on the line.

I can't comprehend that people actually believe the jerk.

But officer...

I cannot believe a pregnant Arizona woman tried to claim that her unborn baby legally qualified her access to the carpool lane.

The carpool lane of a freeway is reserved for two or more people riding in the same vehicle. Its purpose is to encourage more carpooling and less traffic by providing the two-or-more folks, generally all of driving age, the benefit of using this less-congested lane to and from work during peak traffic hours (unless you live in Los Angeles where carpool lanes are enforced 24/7).

It amazes me how creative people can be with their excuses. We already have signs and warnings on everything we purchase or do because of the potential legal ramifications generally created by people who know how to work the system, so to speak (like suing for hot coffee... of course coffee is hot). It sounds like we now need to clarify freeway signs and add another one alongside Slow Traffic Keep Right and Carpool Lane 3 a.m.-9 a.m. to read Carpool Lane for Two or More People Age 5 and Over.

Common sense is disappearing fast and it might be time to start a conservation foundation in order to save it.

You can't have it both ways

Lately I’ve seen, heard, and read a lot of coverage about day-laborers. Some stories have covered the opposition toward day-labor work sites built with tax-payer dollars while others have interviewed day-laborers.

In a nutshell for those unfamiliar with the term day-laborer, a day-laborer is typically someone who finds a central location to be picked up for work that is usually only on a daily basis and revolves around construction, fruit picking or yard work; sometimes you’re lucky to get work for the day, sometimes you’re not. Most day-laborers are illegal immigrants who are in the U.S. to find work to help support their families in a different country or earn a better living for themselves because the wages offered in their country are too low.

The article here revolves around tax-payer dollars being used to build a day-laborer center, a place where day-laborers can stay out of the streets while seeking work. Many people are upset by this because of the illegal immigration aspect but I can’t help but share a question I have:

Is there anything different about outsourcing production to cheaper places like China and Taiwan versus hiring illegal immigrants to provide cheap labor here in the U.S.?

Not really. Bottom line is large companies and small local companies are all trying to make a profit while cutting costs in other areas. So basically, you can’t have it both ways. You either pay a regular workforce normal wages and lose some profit or you hire someone willing to be paid less for a day or until the job is finished.

I admire the strength of day-laborers for enduring the unknown day-to-day job status to better themselves. I also admire those who help them and hope that others can take a look at more pressing issues surrounding labor rather than the laborer themselves. As long as someone is willing to hire them, day-laborers are willing to do the work.