Sunday, March 6, 2011
The Impossible Has Happened!
Every once in a while it's time to bring out a copy of my favorite inning in baseball history.
For Real
If you can't take this sport seriously, then what can you? Especially when you freeze-frame the 29th second and take it all in - the former ear-munching boxer and ex-convict punching the air, the wrestler crumpling a half-second before the non-blow arrives, the midget in the rain slicker looking on.
Incomprehensible Shouting Named Official U.S. Language
Congratulations to the political talk shows not only for embracing the new language, but their foresight in being years ahead of the curve.
Title Wave
Nice to see Kasey Reaber, member of my alma mater Driscoll's last-ever girls' basketball team (which happened to win the state championship as well), win another state championship this year. In the old days it would have been uncouth to enjoy her success as a member of conference rival Montini, but any link to the program that Dad helped build a decade ago is a fond one. The year after Driscoll closed, Montini absorbed a good part of the Driscoll student body and has proceeded to win the last two state championships, which sort of makes it feel as if Dad's old program has won three in a row.
Wording Up
After being brought to the Japanese restaurant Hayashi by Scott and Lisa last night (which I'd describe as a high-end steakhouse since we paid about $50 for two), it was time to look up some new words.
Hayashi: In Japanese music, any of various combinations of flute and percussion instruments. In no and kabuki drama, the hayashi normally consists of a flute plus the hourglass-shaped hand drum (ko-tsuzumi) held on the right shoulder, the larger o-tsuzumi held on the left hip, and the taiko stick-struck barrel drum set on a stand on the floor. Folk hayashi often combine a bamboo flute (shino-bue, or take-bue) with stick-beaten drums and a small hand gong (kane, or atari-gane), struck inside its rim with a bone hammer.
Hibachi: When a bubbly Japanese guy in a colorful chef's outfit goofs around with food on a grill by juggling eggs, rice, and spatulas; smacking implements on the grill and singing, doing flashy tricks like igniting columns of fire spewing from onion volcanoes, and cooking a tasty meal.
Hayashi: In Japanese music, any of various combinations of flute and percussion instruments. In no and kabuki drama, the hayashi normally consists of a flute plus the hourglass-shaped hand drum (ko-tsuzumi) held on the right shoulder, the larger o-tsuzumi held on the left hip, and the taiko stick-struck barrel drum set on a stand on the floor. Folk hayashi often combine a bamboo flute (shino-bue, or take-bue) with stick-beaten drums and a small hand gong (kane, or atari-gane), struck inside its rim with a bone hammer.
Hibachi: When a bubbly Japanese guy in a colorful chef's outfit goofs around with food on a grill by juggling eggs, rice, and spatulas; smacking implements on the grill and singing, doing flashy tricks like igniting columns of fire spewing from onion volcanoes, and cooking a tasty meal.
Quick Trip
"If you want to make sure that you're never in charge or that you won't be in charge for much longer, then act like you deserve to be in charge."
This week I sat in a meeting on a complicated topic at the office. A group of people were there looking for education about a new product coming out, so that they could in turn train other employees. A fellow actuary was in the room too who's a decade younger than me, is the central actuary on the project, and is a relative latecomer to the tax topic that I was the subject matter expert on.
When the agenda reached the tax topic, my co-worker launched ahead and discussed it. I merely had to sit there and nod agreement occasionally. I could have forged into the conversation with colorful facts, but as the senior actuary in the room I found pleasure in watching others command the situation. Is there some beauty to witnessing a team so independently capable that the management in the room doesn't need to say a word? I think so.
This week I sat in a meeting on a complicated topic at the office. A group of people were there looking for education about a new product coming out, so that they could in turn train other employees. A fellow actuary was in the room too who's a decade younger than me, is the central actuary on the project, and is a relative latecomer to the tax topic that I was the subject matter expert on.
When the agenda reached the tax topic, my co-worker launched ahead and discussed it. I merely had to sit there and nod agreement occasionally. I could have forged into the conversation with colorful facts, but as the senior actuary in the room I found pleasure in watching others command the situation. Is there some beauty to witnessing a team so independently capable that the management in the room doesn't need to say a word? I think so.
The Great Healer
It's terrific what time will do to heal things, as long as we're patient enough to wait for it.
Within a week of buying the pristine white laptop computer, I left it sitting on a magazine and it absorbed a bunch of measles-like black spots all around the Mac logo. I scrubbed the area with all manner of scouring pads and solutions to no effect. Today, a year later, those spots are gone.
Same goes for the bouts of itching skin that develop when athletes walk around locker rooms. With a bit of drying powder and the benefit of a week or so, things return to normal as if nothing ever happened.
If I'd shaved off the spots with a sander, or cut into the skin, there'd be a scar defacing what could have been. And when relationships are inflamed, what I don't say can be as or more important than what I do say. In time, whether with a good night's sleep or just by keeping a smile on the face, things that seem intolerable today can vanish painlessly into the distant past.
Within a week of buying the pristine white laptop computer, I left it sitting on a magazine and it absorbed a bunch of measles-like black spots all around the Mac logo. I scrubbed the area with all manner of scouring pads and solutions to no effect. Today, a year later, those spots are gone.
Same goes for the bouts of itching skin that develop when athletes walk around locker rooms. With a bit of drying powder and the benefit of a week or so, things return to normal as if nothing ever happened.
If I'd shaved off the spots with a sander, or cut into the skin, there'd be a scar defacing what could have been. And when relationships are inflamed, what I don't say can be as or more important than what I do say. In time, whether with a good night's sleep or just by keeping a smile on the face, things that seem intolerable today can vanish painlessly into the distant past.
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