Hopelessly Human

The single worst part of being a department manager is when you have to let someone go. I did everything in my power to prevent it, find other options, make things work. The idea of taking away someone's livelihood is repulsive to me. For better or worse, you change a person's life. Yesterday was one of those days where I changed a life. If there is any upside to this story, it was a service I had to let go, not an individual. They have other customers; the impact will be small, not catastrophic. Like most situations, it was not about a specific incident, but rather a series of incidents which indicated it was time to part ways. And as painful as it was for the person who represented the service (who happened to be the owner), I hope it turns out to make them (and their company) better in the long run. It had to happen, but that doesn't make it easier for anyone. I am one of those individuals who have raised guilt to an art form, so this will burden me for a while. Still, I would rather feel something than be without accountability and consequently guilt. Emotions are what connect us with other people; they show how we react to the world. There are no "ups" to enjoy without having "downs". There is no growth without discomfort or pain. Growing pains of the emotional sort may be a natural course of events, but it doesn't make them any easier to accept.

Don't Sleep In The Subway

I drove Bryan, our daughter's boyfriend, to SEA-TAC yesterday. He was on the way to WI to visit his mom. We were about five minutes outside of Bellingham when I realized he was asleep. Immediately I was transported back in time to family vacations, driving across the western US to various destinations, and eyeball TV.

That's right. Western America was speeding by and I was sleeping.

Much like a baby, I was lulled to sleep by the car's movement. The roadway motions, inactivity and what I'm sure to me was an unchanging landscape would lull me a trance-like state and eventually sleep. When Laura was a baby and was especially hard to get to sleep, we would bundle her up, put her in the car seat and take a ride. A short ride around the neighborhood and she was out like a light.

It's not like I grew out if it, either. When I was commuting back and forth between Medford, OR and Santa Rosa, CA with a group, my turn as a passenger meant never seeing Mount Shasta, as even with a full night's sleep I was nodding off like a baby before long.

In one of my favorite Peanuts cartoons, Linus asked Charlie Brown what security was. Charlie Brown said it was falling asleep in the backseat of the car, being carried inside by your parents and waking up the next morning in your bed without remembering how you got there.

For some it is the rhythms of the sea, the subtle movement of the ship as it rides the waves that will hasten a trip to the Land of Nod. Others like the rocking movement of the train and the constant clacking of the rails. For me, tires rumbling over empty lanes and the slight sway of a car on the highway invokes the memories of years past and countless trips to dreamland.

Tonight We Fly

I was fortunate enough to be at a taping of "West Coast Live" several years ago when they visited Ashland, OR. My hand shot up like a kid in class who finally knew an answer when host Sedge Thomson asked for audience volunteers to come onstage and play the Biospherical Digital-Optical Aquaphone, a special effect that opens each and every show. My task was to operate a secret device that evokes the sound of water. I was sworn to secrecy, so all I can say is it took both hands to work this instrument.

It has been said radio shows like WCL, A Prairie Home Companion and The Vinyl Cafe are, in some ways, relics of better times, invoking images of front porches, warm evenings, kids on bicycles, parades, flags flying, visiting with relatives after church, hanging out at the drugstore.

If that is truly the case, then tonight we get a front row seat for a look at the past. The Vinyl Cafe is on tour and is stopping in Bellingham at the Western Washington University Performing Arts Centre tonight (Saturday, October 16th, 2010). Canada's answer to Garrison Keillor, Stuart McLean is a beloved storyteller. I am one of the 1 million listeners who tune in weekly for whatever awaits us: eclectic music, The Story Exchange, the trials and tribulations of Dave (the owner of the world’s smallest record store…where the motto is “We May Not be Big But We are Small”), his wife Morley and his children Stephanie and Sam.

The familiar voice of the narrator flows effortlessly as the story is told, with pauses and inflections we have come to expect and love. As the audience, we sit by, thoroughly involved in the telling. In the best radio tradition, a listener's imagination fills in all the blanks. Prose and masterful narration help us develop those spaces in between. And I get to see it happen live. I am one lucky person.

Good Company

In the film Julie and Julia, both heroines reach for pieces of cooking equipment again and again. Like them, everyone who cooks has a favorite piece of cooking equipment that is a joy to use and is indispensable for making nearly every meal. It is their go-to item: their gem of a Henckle knife, the timeless KitchenAid mixer, a Le Creuset dutch oven. They are the pieces you really can't do without, that stand the test of time and never find themselves in the back of the cabinet with madeleine pans, the chocolate fountain and the Magic Bullet.

For me, the answer is simple: a black speckled covered oval roasting pan.

Yes, this is one of those sold in every grocery and big box store across the land. It is generic and nondescript. Mine is too small for a turkey or a large ham but great for a chicken, various cuts of beef, vegetables or what have you. Granite Wear has been making these black porcelain-on-steel roasters, specked with white flecks, since 1871.

What makes it special? It was a bridal shower gift from my mother. Not to Cindy, but to me. I'm not proud of it, but I remember feeling left out of the pre-wedding festivities and said something off-handedly to my mother about it. The next time I saw her she handed me a wrapped box and explained it was my bridal shower present. I opened the box and inside was the roaster. She had one in her kitchen, as did both my grandmothers and most of America. Now I had one, connecting me to my past and future.

Over time, many things have come and gone in our various kitchens. Twenty-five years later the roaster remains, housing my memories where they take up little or no space and speak to me in tastes and smells.

Not On The Test

Unwelcome and controversial are among the many descriptors for standardized tests. For those in school, these tests can be very high stakes, linking important consequences to the results - promotion, graduation, scholarship money, etc.

Tests are used to help make decisions. Results can help individuals choose a good school, decide whether or not to move a child to the next grade, determine if a school is helping students learn all they can. For these and other reasons, testing and its results remain major education issues, despite their prevalence to spark more questions and controversy than any other topic in education.

Can tests really tell us about what students actually know? There are limits to what we can derive from test scores. Are they a fair, straight-forward measure of education, or do we overestimate what tests can tell us?

By the modern miracle of technology, this is posting just as I am being handed a test of my academic aptitude and understanding on various aspects of Quality Management. Will it be a reliable measure of my overall intelligence? Hard to know for sure, at least until the test results come back in three weeks.

It has been quite some time since I have felt that dread caused by my awareness that my future is not determined but must be freely chosen. The big question is: will I choose correctly?