The Expedition

We gathered a very few miles from the state line early Friday morning, the day after Thanksgiving, for our traditional hunt for the perfect Christmas tree. It was uneventful until we got home and prepared to unload the tree, which had been lashed to the luggage rack.

Focused on grabbing my gloves from the back of the car, I leaned forward on the last stride.

Noticing that the raised hatch was bending the top of the tree, he began to close it.

Physics set in, and then biology (or was it physiology?) Two objects cannot occupy the same space at the same time. Head wounds bleed.

I stop, suddenly, then stagger backward, several slow steps. Later, he can't stop laughing as he imitates my slow, crouching, backward stagger. Neither can I.

I feel my head. A shallow groove in the skin, the image of a trench. No puncture, no slice. A formed depression, and it's wet. Yep, my fingers are bright red.

After the bleeding has slowed to an ooze, they take turns looking at the wound as I help part my hair around it. I don't think you need stitches, she says. That's good news, because just the thought of that hurts. You could use a butterfly bandage, he says, and I start laughing again. Would it stick to all the hair? Or require a shave?

Laughter is great medicine; the healing begins.

All fall down

Now this is seasonal. But, didn't we just do this? Was it really a year ago that we were raking up leaves and hauling them out to the curb for pickup?

The dogs don't like it one bit. All their drop zones have disappeared, and they don't seem to like even walking through the growing cover of damp leaves - can't say that I blame them on that score. So for these several weeks they have been leaving little packages in unexpected places, often and predictably discovered by attracting an unsuspecting sole. Thus the evening scrape-and-scrub routine reaches its peak pretty much in sync with the height of the leaves' migration earthward.

If I were John Updike, I would write a poem about this microseasonal phenomenon. But, alas, you can guess the rest. So we lean into the mundane, comfortable annual rites of autumn, trudging - carefully - into longer nights and toward the promise of new leaves next spring.

Enforcement?

There were half a dozen police hanging around on the platforms at the train station this morning. At first I thought they were selling raffle tickets. But no - it was all about not crossing the tracks when the alarm was sounding. ($250 fine - hmmm...)

But then when the 6:13 pulled in this evening, where had they all gone? Where were they when scads of us hurried off to our cars, even before the train had closed its doors and pulled away. Ding ding ding ding ding...

Another case of situation ethics, I suppose.

Looking into the sun

Our science teachers told us not to do it. But a hundred of us gather, again, and wait, quietly talking, laughing, watching. God is the timekeeper, as always, and the moments pass steadily, slowly.



A little barefoot girl, perhaps four years old, wanders back and forth to the water's edge, across fist-sized stones worn smooth by wind and water. 50 years from now her feet will remember the feel of smooth rocks and wood chips under the blazing red sky reflected in the quiet water.



Serene, intense, brief...



As the sky slowly darkens, the breeze falls off. The flag hangs limp as a gull flies away.



A small pair of pink crocs left under the bench where her parents sit. How much will she remember? How deeply will this sink into her inner being? 50 years later, and then what?

Going to a virtual conference

Well, I signed up for an online event. It's a virtual conference, complete with keynote address and exhibit hall. And look -- I already picked up a souvenir!



It turns out there are some great technologies out there that work pretty well. The main thing is to figure out what they're good for, and then use them, I guess.

But for now, back to the show...

More briefness

It's an interesting challenge to cut your resume down to 140 characters as suggested by twtjobs.com. What are my fundamentals, at least work-wise? A cool experience.

At first I thought their embedment script didn't work when I pasted it in here. Fortunately, I knew there was a URL that worked, so as the twtapp developers suggest, see my Twitter Resume!

But then I discover it does work, so here you go:

Being brief

It has been interesting, I'll say that. At first it felt like a spacewalk gone bad - I had let go of the rope (actually the rope had been yanked out of my hands) and was drifting off into space... Then I realized I had a whole lot of company, which is a slight comfort but not a solution. But I digress.

So, what I learned today is this: creative people are continually working things over and cool, goofy little tools and toys continue to pop up. Keep your eyes open and you'll see them, and with a little reflection may even be able to put them to good use. Or, at least, to use.

For example, a poll done through a Twitter application. It's unbelievably easy to set up, the price is right (free, that is), and it seems to work. Here, take a look. In fact, I'd appreciate it if you would vote!




And there are simple diversions, too. I stumbled across the "Gears of Doom" and made it to level 12. A friend claims to have reached level 20. I'll believe it when I get there. Give it a try, but allow a good 20 minutes or more in case you get hooked.

So now it's back to work for me. Meanwhile, have some fun!

A new reality

It's odd to be on the outside looking in, but here I am. No more 1500+ emails to attend to, no more deadlines (for the moment), no more wondering how to reconcile this and that and come up with the definitive article on a subject we've been through time and again. And no more readers, for the moment. That may be the hardest part.

It is odd -- a bit like the old play "Six Characters In Search of an Author," except this time it's an author in search of an audience.

Tomorrow everyone will be back to work, and the burden on those who remain will be even greater than it was before. That's not a pretty thought. And yet, I can no longer begin to help solve it.

The latest issue arrived just before I departed, and it's mighty thin. No wonder that they're cutting back. Sad, but... Meanwhile, I'm looking ahead, at diverging roads.

New in Vegas

Although things were pretty dead in Vegas when I showed up for "work week" on the Artistry Demos this year, the city came to life over the weekend. And although a bit less crowded this year, throughout the week it was the good old Vegas we've come to know and love.

As always, there were a few surprises. Walking along the strip one evening I had a disorienting moment or two as I followed a bobbing, illuminated mini-billboard down the sidewalk. It turns out some of those folks who wear the day-glow yellow "girls! girls! girls!" tee shirts and slap the little playing cards before they try to hand you one have a new attention-getting device. Many of them now are sporting backpacks that support and power an illuminated two-foot-wide by four-foot-high image (generally showing the same subject matter as the cards). They do get your attention! Viewed from the front, only a one-foot section above the head is lit up, but even that is an eyecatcher.

I didn't think I could inconspiciously snap a photo of those particular examples, but I did get a shot of the same device promoting monorail rides.

One other new thing I came across this year was the iPod vending machine near the elevator bank on the Hilton's first floor. It just seems a little odd to be swiping a credit card and spending $200 or more in a vending machine, but who am I to judge? It was interesting, to say the least. On closer inspection, a lot of the offerings were accessories - cases, earphones, and so on - but the full-size, full-power, full-price items were there, too. There's nothing quite like Las Vegas!