Eulogy for a Dear Friend

My favorite section of the newsletter (the part where we get the most participation and voices- the part where you can actually learn something about the people in this company) is Al’s column, "What did you Learn This Week?" I was going to answer the question this week with a lesson my brother in law told me. We were talking about his father who a couple of years back suffered a mild heart attack. "Part of his heart is dead," my brother in law said. I learned you could live without part of your heart. I chose not to use that answer however. I’ve noticed my answers usually are on a completely different plane than everybody else. I’m not really in the ozone, just act like it sometimes.

The universal lesson I do relearn every week is that the nature of most people is they want things/life to be as easy as possible. In the past, people were told they should believe in the absolute benefits of technology. Technology would make life easier, more efficient and more pleasurable. So we put a man on the moon, and invented remote controls (clickers) so we didn’t have to leave our chairs.

People also used to believe that pop culture icons had some messiah-like abilities, that if you listened to the words, the message, you could be saved. Well, I don’t see anyone playing their CD’s backwards or at different speeds trying to find clues to the greater puzzle.

Recently, a kindergarten teacher stopped into the store to look for children’s records. "Can barley keep ‘em still to listen," she said referring to her restless students. Should we blame the shortening of our collective attention spans on technology or on MTV? Or could it be we are no different these days than those in the past?

I’ve noticed a pattern with people I converse with every day on the phone. Each is looking for someone to solve their problems for them. They don’t realize that information can be used towards figuring a possible direction, but rarely will that be enough to completely satisfy their situation. It usually takes a little more work than that.

The curse of being quiet, bespectacled (and Asian?) is that people assume you know more than you do. They assume your depth is greater than it actually is. I couldn’t convince a former associate I was "but a simple country boy"; she thought I was just trying to be secretive, enigmatic and distant. But there is no reason to try and read between the lines. There’s nothing there.

It’s an easy trap to fall into. I once rode my bike up the hill, pedaling as hard as I could, using all 21 speeds and the only message relayed by the great guru I tried to reach, is that life is what you try and make out of it. You can spend all your time whining about that which has beaten (and kept) you down but it won’t get you anywhere. And often you will miss out on opportunities you’ll later regret you didn’t see, or didn’t appreciate, at the time.