The Master Within

Another of Malcolm Gladwell's (see post #1) postulates is that the time required for complete mastery of a subject or task is about 10,000 hours. Think about it. Think of a master. Tiger Woods, David Beckham, Michael Jordan. Those are easy. They are celebrities, celebrated for the mastery of their art. Who else? Yo Yo Ma, Louis Armstrong, and any number of "virtuoso" performers, musicians, actors, singers. How did they become masters? According to Malcolm, practice, practice, practice. While it's true that there has to be some degree of inate talent, some basic ability, the thing that sets the masters apart from the rest of us is that they did what they do for thousands upon thousands of hours.

While at the glass factory (see previous post), I observed the workers pulling molten glass from the furnaces, shaping it into a square that was pressed into a sheet, then cutting the sheet into a pane. Each step required the glass to be within a narrow temperature range, so as the glass cooled, timing was everything. I'm not sure whether to describe it as a ballet or a human machine - each component working together perfectly. They had mastered their jobs and it was a beautiful thing. It occurred to me that this is what it once meant to be a master carpenter, for example, or a master mason. Unfortunately, I think mastery of a skill - unless it has entertainment value - isn't celebrated or even recognized as it once was and that's a shame.

On the other hand, if time and practice are the main ingredients in proficiency, then we are all masters of something. What are you a master of?

Ostriches R Us

For years I sat in an office at work with a street-level view of the back of some industrial-looking business. I always sort of wondered what they did there. The only clues were an enormous propane tank and the occasional sound of breaking glass. Turns out it's this place: http://www.bullseyeglass.com/

The boss invited a few of us to go on a tour. OMG, what a cool place. He (boss guy) is taking glass-fusing classes there and I think I might too. They only do art glass and business is booming. "Where did this come from?" I wondered. "How long have you been here?" I asked. "Since 1974," said our guide. Boy am I a dork.

I guess the moral to this story is... well, I don't know that the moral is. I should just pull my head out occasionally and take a look around. :o)

The Beauty of Democracy

I don't think anyone will be surprised when I say I didn't care much for George Bush. To me, the primary job of the President is to communicate; to bring Americans together, to uplift us, to persuade us, to remind us of our responsibilities, to tell us what's going on, and to sometimes give us the bad news. In this respect, G.W. was just abysmal. Some say he's a good man who just doesn't speak well, and that may be true. But to me, an inarticulate President is by definition a failure. In this respect, I even think Ronald Reagan was a pretty good president. Though I don't agree with a lot of what he did and said, he was a strong leader and an excellent communicator. I'm an unrepentant (Bill) Clintonite. He was a lot of things, some good and some bad, but damn he gave good speech. Hillary is probably more qualified to be President than Barack Obama, and is certainly more qualified than Bill was in 1992, but she doesn't make me want to stand up and say "Amen!" the way Bill did - or Barack does.

Anyway, the beauty part... The beautiful part is that all these people (well, except for Reagan 'cause he's dead, k?) can stand together on the same dais in support of our newly elected President and our country. George H. W. Bush lost to Bill Clinton and they are now good friends. Al Gore lost to... ok, let's skip that one. Biden lost to Clinton, who lost to Obama, but they will both be part of his administration. No one did a last-minute power grab and refused to step down. There was no military coup, no riots (at least not this time), nor shots fired. Partisan hacks mostly held their tongues. Like clockwork, at the appointed time, on the appointed day, power passed peacefully from the President we chose before to the one we chose this time. This is what America is all about - that we can have real and important differences and still live with each other. That we know that what unites us is a lot stronger than what divides us.

The older I get, the more significant this stuff is. Watching the machinery of democracy in action today was awesome and humbling, and gives me hope for humanity.

On a lighter note, I got to thinking about my sister's comments on the commie-propaganda-style Obama posters. That style has been popular lately for all kinds of things, but it's odd that no one seemed to put it together that the wrong message might be sent. Then again, maybe that was the message. Anyway, here are some semi-amusing knockoffs...

New Year Blues

Seems like this happens every year. After Thanksgiving, things slow down a bit at work as we become more cautious about breaking things during the year's biggest sales period. Then Christmas comes along with a few days off, food, naps, family visits, comfort and joy, etc., culminating in New Year's Eve - the big fireworks finale to close out the year.
All of this makes January 2nd my least favorite day of the year. The day of the post-holiday hangover. The day reality hits the fan. The day all hell breaks loose. The day life suddenly lurches back into gear. In this part of the country the weather is at its most dismal - dark, wet, and cold going to work; dark, wet, and cold going home. No real light - just various stages of twilight that pass for morning, noon, and night. The fog might burn off by mid-afternoon; just in time for it to start getting dark(er). And all the work we put off over the holidays is suddenly past due and top priority, meaning super-long days and sleep deprivation. And there's not a holiday in sight until Memorial Day. Ugh..