Life, Work & Wonder

Tag: dailyprompt

  • 34 years later, email still uses most of my screen time

    WRITING PROMPT: What app uses most of your screen time, and do you feel bad about it?

    I was 24 — in 1992 — the first time I ever saw email.

    I was working as a teller at a local national bank branch, and one day they installed email on our branch’s shared computer. It was pretty mystical, really. Suddenly, you could go into a black dos based screen, type in someone’s email address, send them that email, and they’d receive it. We didn’t have to send a memo versus interoffice mail, or call the person on the phone, we could quickly type up something, hit send, know that they’d receive it instantly and when they could they could get back to us. It was pretty surreal, actually. Almost magical.

    Very few of us actually needed to send emails, but one day I thought it would be fun to email the CEO of our 50,000 employee company. So I searched and found his email address, then typed a polite email along the lines of, “Hi, I recently graduated college, I’m an employee at one of the bank’s branches, I really enjoy working here and I really love the email access we’ve been given.” I remember word spreading around my six colleagues and they gathered around and watched as I finished the email then hit “Send.” Whoosh.

    Maybe because my dad’s career was always fast tracked and at the time he was an executive at a Fortune 500 company, but I wasn’t intimidated at all by this endeavor. I was on employee at the company, he was in charge of the company, why wouldn’t he want to hear how much I appreciated working for the bank and the email he’d probably authorized? Still, people were amazed (or maybe stupefied) that I’d sent that off, and for the next few hours people would ask, “Did you get a response?”

    Then a response came in. He replied that he appreciated hearing from me, that he appreciated that I chose that bank as my first after-college job, and what were the long term ambitions for my career because maybe he could introduce me to that department? It was a minor celebration among all of us that I’d gotten an encouraging response.

    Except our Branch Manager From Hell didn’t see it that way. Not one bit. I was young at the time, so didn’t quite realize that there were some good bosses, a lot of less-than-stellar bosses, and a handful of spectacularly toxic bosses in this world. 34 years later, I can honestly say she was one of the latter. She was spectacularly bad on morale (for too many reasons to list here). And when word trickled through the branch that I’d received a response from the CEO, she marched up to the front of the branch and asked to speak with me. To make a long story short, she was irritated that I’d sent an email to the CEO. She felt like it reflected poorly on her branch because it showed that maybe we had too much time on our hands, that it was a misuse of company resources, that I’d gone around the chain of command (which wasn’t my intention), and that it was borderline insubordinate. I was instructed to delete the CEO’s email with no response, had a formal notice of unsatisfactory deposited in my HR Records, and was suspended from unsupervised computer usage for 30 days. This might seem like an extreme response, and it was; maybe her only justification was at the time email was still so new people were trying to figure it out and perhaps to her it was a little too much like witchcraft so reacted in kind?

    I learned something from that experience.

    I learned that most people are innately fearful of superiors who are many rungs up on the ladder, and that to be unafraid (confident) around them is actually a potential career booster. I learned that there are a million different unsuspecting ways to trigger a terrible leader. And that email was actually a pretty powerful and awesome real-time tool.

    Over the next 15 years I would use email extensively. To reach out to friends, negotiate contracts, and even to expand my network. I loved that email was instant, that I could put details in emails that most people will read, and just found it to be an amazing communication tool that was actually superior to phone call, meeting or (later) text.

    At a glance, I would say I use other applications more frequently than email. But if I drill down into it that’s not really true for me. I still spend an hour each morning scrolling through my email, reading through the day’s news (including great newsletters by the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, Morning Brew, Apple News and The Seattle Times). And I still use it to send and receive detailed responses from people I need to have detailed interactions with.

    So I remember that first time using email in 1992. And how magical it seemed to be. And 34 years later I can still say it’s the application I use most and I have no regrets about using it.

  • Travels By Michael Creighton

    PROMPT: One is one book that inspired you to travel

    I was never a Michael Creighton reader. Nothing against his writing, but his kinds of books just weren’t my highest priority in the finite amount of time I have in life.

    Until I discovered “Travels,” which some librarian in the Seattle Public Librarian system had decided to put out on a table as a recommended reading.

    How much I loved that book, with its short chapters documenting his travels one trip at a time. Of course, Creighton was a busy individual, what with being a best selling novelist, A-list director and a producer. And after each project he liked to unwind by traveling, usually to an off-the-trail non-touristy place that his travel agent would book for him.

    There were all kinds of travels he took, including scuba diving, venturing through the jungles of Southeast Asia, and my personal favorite of climbing Mount Kilamajoro. I thought these essays were interesting, efficient, honest and vulnerable, and also just captivating in the places they went.

    I will never be Michael Creighton. I’m not smart enough, driven enough, and organized enough to write best-selling commercial novels in my spare time. And I have no interest in being a movie producer or director. But how much fun it was to spend a few days dipping into the travels of his life, and I just love so much the unique way he chose to tell his story/memoir. And truth be told, it inspired me in my own way to travel a little bit off the beaten path when traveling and to not be afraid to try to blend in with the locals without worrying about the touristy-stuff. I’m on a five year break from these kinds of travels, but I expect that Larissa and I will pick it back up again in a different phase of our life.

  • I Miss File Clerks

    PROMPT: What technology do you miss and why?

    My first white collar job was at a mortgage company in 1986. I was an assistant to the Quality Control Manager, meaning my job was to organize and prepare loan files for her to audit to ensure the company was following proper loan procedures.

    Every day my boss would give me a list of four loan files she wanted to review, and my job was to get the files, make copies of those files, then organize them in the way she preferred so that she could efficiently review them.

    It was, in a word, a tedious job. I had to wear a tie, worked from 8:00am (not 8:05 but 8:00) to 5:00pm (not 4:55, but 5:00) with exactly a one hour lunch and two fifteen minute breaks, and the job itself was just drudgery. But there were two things I liked about the job: my manager, who was skilled and compassionate, and the file clerk.

    The file clerk was the best piece of technology I ever used in a role.

    When we needed a file, I simply filled out a brief quarter-page form in ink, walked it over to her desk, dropped it in her “in box,” and then when she had retrieved the file she dropped it on my desk with a “hello” and a smile. That was it.

    There was no searching. No trying to remember what the file was named. No use of any kind of editor to reorder the pages. I simply filled out the form, the file magically appeared on my desk, and then I could get to work by simply sifting through papers.

    My job back then was tedious. But so is the modern world. Trying to remember passwords, and application names, and file names. Have to search emails for links, and dual authentication, and trying to find things on a tiny screen. Back then, the file clerk did all of that for me. The hardest part of my job besides the drudgery was clearing out the occasional paper jams when I had to make copies. And never — not once — did I have to work overtime. No one I knew worked overtime. Partially because at 5pm the file clerk and all other clerks hit the road, and there was no one available to process any work that we completed anyway.

    So yes, my job was drudgery, but the convenience of the file clerk was amazing. We don’t live in a world of convenience. We live in a world where the inconvenience was just redistributed, and ultimately are required to work more hours.

    So when I’m asked what technology I miss most of all, that’s an easy one. I miss the file clerk. Patty, wherever you are 40 years later, I miss your skillset!

  • If I could live anywhere in the world, it would be in Seattle

    Writing Prompt: If I Could Live Anywhere In The World, Where Would It Be?

    With the exception of two years away in college and part of year lived in Oregon, I’ve lived my entire life — five decades and counting(!) — in Seattle. My parents too have lived their entire lives in Seattle. My mom’s mom? Lived her entire life in Seattle. My other three grandparents? Lived their entire adult lives in Seattle, too. Clearly, Seattle is in my blood and has been for generations. 

    The irony is, although I love Seattle, I also dislike Seattle. 

    I don’t love the over six months per year in drizzly gloom. I don’t love the dysfunction of our city government that has always been true for virtually my entire lifetime. And I wish that Seattle as a whole was more extroverted. 

    Still, five decades later, and despite the ability to arguably live anywhere in the US and maybe a lot of places in the world, I’ve always lived here. I doubt I’ll ever leave unless we relocate to California to be closer to Larissa’s family. 

    Why? 

    Because it’s where my roots are settled and it’s where my family is. Because I’ve learned in life that no matter what we think about our current situation it can always be worse, and all things being considered I’d rather deal with what I know rather than undertake the tremendous hassle of changing cities. But more than that, there must be something about the city I love. 

    I do love that we are close to mountains. And creeks. With bountiful water. And mostly mild temperatures. 

    I love that we are a metropolis with a healthy job market and lots of eating options that mostly don’t include large national restaurant chains. 

    I love that there are libraries and theaters and universities, and public transportation, and no shortage of things to do, all the while being very close to one of my favorite things to do in the world — embark on day hikes. 

    So clearly there is something I love about Seattle that is deep in my soul.

    So, if I could live anywhere in the world where would it be? The answer is obvious. It’s Seattle. Because we are what we do, and I CAN live anywhere and yet here I am. And because wherever we go there we are, and I believe that happiness should come from within and not from exterior forces, so why not try my best to be happy here, where my parents and sister are, where my kids are, where there is so much to like, and where I’m lived most of my life. 

    Maybe that’s the real answer. If I can’t be happy in a city with mountains, forests, salt water, bookstores, libraries, great restaurants, and the people I love, then changing my ZIP code probably isn’t going to solve much. Wherever I go, I’ll still be taking myself with me.

    So if I could live anywhere in the world? I’d choose Seattle. Not because it’s perfect—it certainly isn’t—but because it’s home. And after all these years, I think I’ve finally realized there’s a difference.

    #Seattle #Home #Place #Family #Happiness #Reflection #Life #Pacific Northwest #Identity #Contentment #WritingPrompt #Writing

  • The Secret To Life Is Being Happy Where We Are

    What’s a common misconception people have about happiness?

    I believe in my heart of hearts that life is a test.

    Something (God? Allah? Vishnu?) somewhere in the greater omniverse has dispatched us to this beautiful hell to see how we do.

    And one of those tests is, can we be happy on our own regardless of circumstances?

    The first month of when I volunteered for the Crisis Line was training. And I’m still amazed by this one person in training, who had a childhood from hell living in the projects and even watching his best friend get killed when they were 13, yet he had a positive outlook on life and was smiling.

    Here I was, thinking I’d had challenges because I’d been a late bloomer with extreme ADHD so was getting teased (for being small) and getting yelled at (for being distracted) and forever feeling frustrated because I had to work twice hard to prove myself to coaches because of my smaller size. Turns out, I had an amazing childhood with a boring neighborhood and parents who put food on the table every night and no violence other than the occasional school yard stuff. Who was I to be unhappy?? I don’t think I’ve complained about my childhood ever since meeting that person.

    Some people need stuff to be happy. A great car, a great house, more money. Other people need experiences to be happy. Great travels and great foodie experiences. And still others are just never happy at all.

    But for me, I believe the true test is if we can be happy where we are with what we have right here right now. No matter what. And by happy I guess for me I mean contentment and experiencing some moments of bliss.

    In my 20s and 30s I was rarely happy. I had something to prove, I had things to accomplish, I always felt like my life was falling short (especially when I was in my 20s working low paying jobs while other people my age were making millions playing sports). I took a huge step forward in my 40s. I’ve regressed a little bit in recent years but am working to get back to being happy and content at all times and in all places.

    To me, that is the definition of true happiness. Anything otherwise is just a misunderstanding of what actual happiness really is, and what life is really all about.

  • If I Had One Wish For A Single Skill, It Would Be Drawing/Sketching

    If you could instantly master any skill, what would it be and why?

    How much I admire people who can sketch or draw.

    My friend Jon growing up was an amazing sketcher. While we all talked, he was often sketching on scratch paper. Maybe it was a character he’d imagined, or the view outside the window, or a memory, but he was always sketching something to perfection and we always admired what he sketched.

    I also remember reading the autobiography of the great 1950s independent filmmaker Samuel Fuller. In his diaries he often sketched, and his notebook from his tour in Europe during World War II was filled with little drawings to document his days that really captured my interest and I thought really quickly expressed to me what his experiences were.

    How much I admired this.

    I’m not a drawer. I’m that person who can’t draw a stick figure well, and can’t even really draw a straight line, and was often teased in art class for the (lack thereof) quality of my work although being teased about that didn’t bother me since I couldn’t help it. Luckily I can write okay, but it takes “a thousand words” (wink wink) to cover a picture and it’s easier I think to listen and draw then it is to listen and write, which means a person can be a part of a conversation while drawing.

    I also admire those people who can sketch out the vision they’re trying to convey. Maybe plans for the garden. Or a particular door. Or a place that they visited. Me? I have to describe it in words which is harder to convey in every day life.

    I have many weaknesses but I’m a faster than average sprinter (not the fastest sprinter, just faster than the average weekend athlete). I can’t take credit for it, I was just made that way. And just like the average person can’t will or train themselves to sprint as fast as me, I know from experience that I can’t train or will myself to draw as well as the average person let alone to become a gifted drawer. How much I wish that I could train myself to sketch things well and to sketch them quickly.

    Anyway. That would be my wish. Everything else that I’m not good at I’ve made peace with. But I do wish I could draw well.

  • I’m A Rudderless Ship

    What gives you direction in life?

    I spent my 20s getting started in the workplace. Graduating college, then graduating graduate school, then looking for my first career job, meanwhile working working working and paying rent.

    I spent my 30s in hell. I worked worked worked to get ahead and worked worked worked to raise the kids while their mom (my ex) was off doing god-knows-what.

    I then spent my 40s (luckily) beating back idiopathic lung disease and starting a new life following the dissolution of my first marriage.

    Now here I am.

    My kids are grown. I’m burned out on the corporate world (real estate is hard work but isn’t the same all-encompassing soul sucker). I am happily re-married with a person who likes spending time for me so I no longer need to find outside meaning (talking to strangers, volunteering, etc.). I have some savings but not limitless amounts of money to travel the world 24×7. I would love to be a novelist but then again that won’t pay the bills and I’m a person who’d need to devote my full energies to it which isn’t possible right now.

    Which leaves me a little lost right now. I’m a rudderless ship.

    But you know what?

    That’s okay.

    Does a lion spend its days wondering what its direction is?

    Do all the people “resting” in the graveyard a mile from our home currently wish they’d had more direction in life?

    I doubt it.

    Our cats seem to have no direction in life, but also seem pretty content too. They seem to have a good life.

    So I’m rudderless right now. Directionless. But that’s okay. Life is life. Direction in life is just something we add to try to craft meaning into what is ultimately an ambiguous and tenuous existence in the omniverse.

    My chore is not to find meaning or direction. It’s to enjoy life (while being a good + accountable person) as much as I can while I’m here.

  • The Quietly Perfect Holiday: Is There Any Better Holiday Than Labor Day?

    What is your favorite holiday? Why is it your favorite?

    For much of my life, I’d have to list Thanksgiving or Christmas Eve as my favorite holidays. But in recent years I think my penchant for Labor Day has exceeded my historical love of Thanksgiving and Christmas.

    Labor Day is a guilt-free holiday that is placed in one of the most beautiful times of year in the Seattle area.

    So many of our holidays (Thanksgiving, President’s Day) fall in the gloom of Seattle’s rainy season. Or they (Christmas, July 4th) have expectations or are just plain loud and overbearing. Or they (Memorial Day, Martin Luther King Day) have some guilt associated with them. Or (New Year’s Eve) I’m just plain exhausted from the demands of the previous month.

    But Labor Day is different.

    Families and Friends don’t expect us on Labor Day. Budgets aren’t destroyed shopping for food and buying presents. It is a day to reward us for our hard work and not to remind us of someone else’s sacrifice. It’s quiet. And September is usually perfect weather in Seattle what with the continued sun and 70 degree days.

    Childhood and parenthood can taint Labor Day, since it usually commemorates the beginning of a long school year ahead. But my kids are older. And my own school experience was decades ago. So that particular emotional taint of Labor Day is over. In fact, for me, Labor Day has just become the perfect expectation-free holiday.

    There aren’t carols written or sung about Labor Day. Labor Day doesn’t usually conjure strong memories of past times and places. But it’s a special day nonetheless. And it has become in my older and wiser years my very favorite holiday of the year.

  • The First Thing That Comes To Mind Is A Swirl Of Things

    Jot down the first thing that comes to your mind.

    When I’m asked to jot down the first thing that comes to mind, it’s like someone has taken a million index cards of memories and spilled them onto the ground. There isn’t one — there’s literally an explosion of many. How to pick one?

    But from this collage of blurred images suddenly one emerges, but it’s not a vision as much as a sound: the sound of the creek that ran by the mission we visited yesterday while in Santa Fe.

    I love the sound of creeks. To me, it’s the sound of life. The voice of Mother Earth. The voice of god.

    And since that creek involved a sunny day on a travel day with my soul mate, and since it was just yesterday, it is the one index card whose corner was sticking out just enough from the million index cards of my memories that it’s the one that I picked first from the pile.

  • It Ain’t No ‘Call Me Ishmael’ (AKA The Opening Sentence Of My Autobiography)

    You’re writing your autobiography. What’s your opening sentence?

    In another life I was a teacher.

    And for some reason I thought it would be awesome for the kids to teach them, “Moby Dick.”

    Who does that? Who takes a 17 year old high school student, someone who has their ENTIRE life ahead of them, and says, “I’m going to teach you Moby Dick!”

    I did.

    Those poor kids.

    And to their credit they didn’t rebel. They didn’t mock me (at least not to my face) or refuse to read another word. Day after day they came to class, had a smile on their faces, rolled up their sleeves, and worked on their assignments.

    I remember the last day of the unit. I thanked them for being patient with me through the book. That it had been a long slog but that they’d stuck with it and I was grateful for that (because students WOULD rebel if they don’t buy in to a unit or a teacher). Then we watched the movie, the one with Patrick Stewart. When the opening line of the movie was “Call me Ishmael” the students cheered.

    That was one of the great moments of my teaching career. Because they had actually stayed with me during Moby Dick AND the powerful opening line to Moby Dick had actually stuck with them. Resonated (maybe) with them.

    “Call me Ishmael.”

    It’s such a great opening line. Simple. Direct. Even layered and symbolic (Ishmael also means “wanderer”).

    For me, that is the great opening line of any novel, one that can be aped or matched but never surpassed. And, for me, when the students cheered when that line was said in the movie was one of the great professional moments of my life.

    I’m asked, “What would be the opening sentence of your autobiography.”

    And to that I’d say, first, there is no sentence I could ever write that would match that book. And, second, I can’t say anyone would ever care about my autobiography since I’m just an ordinary person who has had mostly an ordinary life:

    • My dad was a banker who wore a tie, my mom was a CPA.
    • I went to public schools in a mid-size city.
    • I was mostly a B- student, I played sports but neither terribly good nor too terrible, I had some friends but no more than an average person.
    • I’ve had a middling career that was neither terribly good nor too terrible. I know for a fact I was pretty exceptional at strategic sales early in my career, but am very mediocre at it since 2011.
    • Now 50 I’m neither rich nor poor, and just like most 50 somethings am trying to figure out which side of the Hill Of Life I’m on (the up slope or down slope).

    In short, I’m pretty average in every way. And that’s just fine by me.

    So, I guess, my opening sentence(s) would be, “I’m pretty ordinary in every way. And that’s just fine by me.”