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It is hard to navigate in a fog
I was pretty sick for a couple of days this past week. I don’t like to be sick and I’m fortunate it doesn’t happen very often. I came home after a long day on Thursday and in the middle of the night I woke up realizing someone had shoved a brick into my stomack while I slept.
I spent the rest of the night sitting either in a chair or else where but sitting none the less. It was after breakfast the next morning I realized this wasn’t going away after a few hours. My head hurt like they must have shoved the brick through my nose. Either that or there was a second brick that was slowly expanding in my head. Maybe that’s it.
The Brick Dissolved
That brick slowly dissolved and entered my blood stream causing massive shutdown of my muscles and joints. Drugs were used to control the pain life on the couch was about all the movement I could get out of the rest of my body.
A little white pill donated (I had no idea what was in it) put me to sleep on the couch for the second night. (We don’ t have a couch as such. It is a series of recliners joined together with a couple of cup and remote holders between a few of them.) Which makes sleeping on this concoction of chairs and humps difficult.
But at 4 am I awoke and all the bricks and particles were gone from my system. A little tired from the experience and glad it was over in 36 hours and not 4 days as I had feared.
Something happened though I hadn’t counted on. The whole 36 hour experience served as some kind of internal reboot. Like I have to do with my Blackberry. It gets to acting strange and suddenly locks up. I pull the battery while it is turned on and after about 5 minutes it resets everything and functions great after a reboot.
One of the things I enjoy doing and might even go so far as to say am passionate about is writing. But lately, there has been a glitch in the software. I was out of words or thoughts weren’t coming together in any way. I wanted to write, I needed to write, but nothing was being written.
A Glitch in My Software
There was a glitch somewhere. It appears I’ve undergone a power on reboot. The end result some thing has been reset and I’m writing again.
Maybe there is a good reason why we get sick. I always thought sickness was a bane. And we do everything we can to take drugs and keep on pushing and pushing harder to keep going. Like me trying to get one more tweet and one more email responded to with the berry when I know the smart thing to do is just pull the battery and let it reboot. But I don’t want to take the time. I have too much to do, till I have no choice and it stops working all together.
I know that it wasn’t a pleasant experience being sick, but I will never look at the experience the same way again. I’ll take it as my signal that a reboot is in process and will shut down to let it happen as quickly as possible and maybe, just maybe I’ll find there was a software upgrade that took place during the reboot or at least I’ll be functioning again.
It really feels good not to be sick.
Dad & Me with Paul Buyan in Braynard MN
That’s how I feel most days. But it isn’t as bad as it might sound. As long as Dad is still around I’m still the son of one living. I remember when all my grandparents on both sides of my family were alive. A diverse group. All unique in their own ways. All providing something at various times in my life. My Dad’s dad was someone I never had many moments with one on one. There was one; only one. I was 10 and sitting on a pile of dirt made from the addition being added to our house.
Grandpa Smith was there visiting and for some reason he came over where I was and talked. I was amazed. He never talked to me, or for that matter he never talked much to any of the grandkids. So I never felt like it was something to do with me, but a part of his character and nature; he just didn’t talk to kids. But this time he talked to me, I guess because I was the only one around. I don’t remember how the conversation started or how it finished but I do remember us talking about history. Do you find that funny, that the first and only conversation between a grandfather and grandson would be about history? He remembered his grandfather talking about the War when he was growing up. The Civil War, yes, the Civil War. There was this instant connection between someone I knew and what I thought was ancient history. He talked about the first automobile and seeing the first airplane. Seeing a motion picture for the first time and what it was like to live through the turn of a century, the 20th century. My grandfather was born before 1900. My dad was born in 1922, he grew up during the Great Depression. So did my mom, so did everyone during those years.
Grandpa Smith was the first person I ever saw who had died. He went back to the earth many many years ago. But I was young and it didn’t seem to have much of an effect. Except in my young mind I thought; “there is only one generation between me and . . .” As aunts and uncles have passed away over the years the thought would pop up for a second or so. Then last year Mom died, and suddenly the thought was larger and lingered longer than ever before.
Dad In Golf Cart
Dad has had a couple hard years, but he isn’t only older than dirt he is a lot tougher. He’s a Depression Kid, he survived and fought in World War II. He is my champion, my hero, my shield. And when he had returned to the earth, I’ll be the last generation, or the next one how ever you want to see it. In a way I guess it is a role I’ve been preparing for all my life. My Dad has been the role model for this position in history for a very long time. I’m not ready to take that position just yet.
I wonder if my Grand kids think I’m older than dirt. I know one thing, in a few years I’ll tell them about the time I sat on a pile of dirt and talked to my Grandfather about his grandfather who lived during the Civil War. That should get either blank stares or looks or wonderment and maybe embed a generational memory for when they are the Last or the Next generation.
Tags: older than dirt, the Civil War
The Coupon
Not everyone thinks the same way. I know what you’re thinking, STOP IT.
In my pursuit of life observations I had one thrust upon me this past week. Ok, it wasn’t so much thrust as it was observed by me as a witness to a teller at McDonald’s struggling with a hole punch.
My first thought was “Bad coupon Design” who thought this thing up that put the location for the whole punches where a hole punch couldn’t reach it.
It wasn’t until a couple of days later while thinking about this post in the shower, Yeah, I think in the shower, it has caused many a nick of the razor and I have to make a note not to think so much and pay attention to the sharp object in my hand. Geez, yes I shave in the shower, no I don’t use shaving cream, it is for economy. I’ll explain later.
It was during that moment of pain it struck me, this wasn’t so much a case of bad design as a designer making an assumption about those using the coupons.
The designer assumed consumers would use the free one at the top first. This would expose the punches for the coupon above and below.
But what if the consumer (this would be me) started at the bottom and got the first card punched all the way and used it for the free one. This now removed left the top one and the one in the middle. This caused the issue with the hole punch.
It was my intention to use the last two coupons are “Free” coffee. This way I paid for 4 drank the 5th free, paid for 4 more and drank 5th and 6th free.
If the designer had put the coffee cups at the bottom making the middle coupon identical to the middle coupon it wouldn’t matter how the consumer used the coupons. The hole punch could reach all locations. The way it is if the consumer doesn’t tear off and use the top coupon there is no way for a standard hole punch to be able to reach all locations on the middle card.
And the Point ?
Think about it!
Tags: Marketing Design, McCafe Coupon
