Sand and snow, work and relaxation

. One promise I’d made to myself when I returned from Kauai was to treat myself to mental vacations whenever I found myself getting overtired from work. Even though I can’t be on the beach physically, I can put images into my head, let my imagination roam, surround myself with ‘islandy’ things, to remind myself what relaxation feels like.

. That’s kind of where I find myself tonight, for whatever reason, I feel more tired than I should be. Traffic the last couple of days has been lighter than normal, the thanksgiving chaos has subsided, and... I’m mentally down for the count.

. In the meantime, I’m going to be grinding through some of Imperfect hope as well, so I need to get myself in a creative mindset. Kauai and D’oril are in the obvious ways, very different, for those who don’t know, D"oril is a cold place, think British Columbia or the Kenai Peninsula of Alaska. However, there are many deep similarities, for one, I can put my mind in either place and find a relaxation, both could easily feel like home. Kauai, the beach with a mai tai, listening to the waves. D’oril, the fireplace blazing with crackling pine, a thick fur rug and a scotch, watching the snow fall outside the cabin.

. Since I’ll be writing about the cold place tonight, I’m going to exercise my creativity with a game of opposites. Before I go north, then here is a setting/description of a tropical beach/island, a story fragment from an idea gelling about an island culture far to the south of D’oril.

—

. Pu’anu leaned heavily on his spear as the wave crashed against his thighs and threatened to knock him down again. Even while the foam boiled about his tanned and strongly muscled legs, he leaned forward and cast his spear into the retreating surf, this time with success. The ray flopped and struggled as the tall islander pulled it in. Another breaker crashed against the shore and pushed his catch behind him, Pu’anu used the momentum of the water to work his way back up the beach even as he reeled in the ray.

. To the west, the sun sat heavily on the horizon, stretched wide and flat like a jellyball settling on a platter. Pink and red wisps of cloud stretched across the sky, reaching from the sun toward the village on the hillside behind Pu’anu like the wispy fins of a veilfish. The calm sky lent an odd feeling to the evening, for the surf was strong, angry, as if it were trying to devour the shoreline with each thunderous crash. Pu’anu struggled against the last pull of wave, then broke free to the dry sand, untouched by the pre-storm waves. He crouched to grasp the other ray he’d caught by the gills, tossed his shoulder length blond hair back over his shoulder and worked the headband back around his forehead. The lean islander began an unhurried walk back to the village.

. Pu’anu’s thoughts were far away, not on the catch he brought to his family for dinner, nor on the sounds of the island’s forest that began barely a spears throw from the waters edge. Instead, his sapphire blue eyes watched the horizon, timing the waves that broke upon the reef’s edge outside lagoon. Tomorrow he would break that barrier, sailing alone as he began his quest, his family’s duty and honor for generations past and now his sacred task. Pu’anu would travel the vast ocean in search of a new beacon to light the island’s tower, a new spirit light to guide the mariners of the islands home from their far travels.

Adventures in handymanland...

Over the last two weeks, I've had a full plate of "things to get done before the world shows up for thanksgiving", some of them involving power tools. Understand, I know which end of a drill to aim at the wall, or which finger, when struck with a hammer, brings the most colorful phrases to mind, but most of what I do comes from reading a book on it, and then trying it, albeit slowly. Thus, I get it done, usually two or three times longer than I originally estimate. I always caution Irma, "Don't look at the mess until I'm done cleaning up", and probably spend half my time climbing up and down a ladder (if one is involved), or up and down the stairs getting "one more tool", or running to the hardware store to get something "I didn't have when I started, and probably should have been obvious that I needed, but didn't think about until I pulled that other thingy off..."

Adventures. One of the projects this week involved, as it turned out, undoing a problem created last year. See, last year before thanksgiving, we remodelled our kitchen and guest bathroom, most of the work was done by professionals. However, I replaced a mirror and installed a new vanity light fixture in the bathroom. It's not hard, (well, except the generic builder installed mirror was glued to the wall, and took the better part of 2 hours to remove from the wall in pieces, very very carefully). The new light fixture went in easily, drill 2 holes for the mounting anchors, attach the wiring (black to black, white to white, green to green, don't touch the power switch whatever you do...). Screw the fixture in, install bulbs, voila, new bathroom (and a fine bathroom it is!). Everything was fine. Or so we thought.....

A few months later, in a seemingly unrelated issue, water stains started appearing in the basement bathroom ceiling (my remodelling project of 2 years past). It started very small, but by this last summer, was obvious something bad was happening on the other side of that drywall (wet-wall?). In september, I finally had a spare few moments, and cut a hole in the ceiling to find the problem.

Weird. Plumbing above the ceiling looks fine, no wet spots. Yes, there were hot and cold supply lines running from the water heater to the basement laundry room, but they weren't leaking. Drain line from upstairs, dry. Except, water was coming from somewhere. A bucket placed under the hold caught a tablespoon of water by the next day. Hmmmm.

Over the next few days, investigation revealed that water dripped from the elbow of the drain pipe, only when hot water from the master bedroom shower was run for more than one minute. Further investigation showed a possible crack in the pipe, might it be expanding with the hot water? But patching the crack solved nothing. The water was coming from upstairs.

The investigation continued. I traced the drain pipe upstairs, at first I thought it ran through the ex-laundry closet on the main floor where I built/installed some pantry shelves last year, perhaps I'd run a screw into the pipe? No, the pipe ran through the bathroom wall. Mirror mounting screws were carefully placed into wall studs, so... The light fixture.

To make a long story short, one mounting screw was driven right into the drain pipe from the second floor, leaking a tablespoon or so of water a day from showers. So, cut a hole in the wall, fix the pipe. Now I've got 2 big (well, one football sized, and one doormat sized) holes in bathrooms to patch, and 4 days till the world shows up to eat our turkey.

I finished it. Even textured the ceiling patch in the basement. A little touch up paint, and... No one will know that, It was all my fault in the first place.... ;-)

What does it all mean? I got to thinking, I"ve done a lot of varied projects around the house, from plumbing to electrical to drywall to construction. We garden, paint, landscape, do tree surgery, pick apples. Is this what it means to be a jack of all trades? I compare this to what a typical character in my stories might have to do. If he's a farmer, he's doing all that (well, no electrical, but so much more.) Cooperage, minor blacksmithy, tool repair. etc etc etc. Tending to the tack for the draft horses. Wagon repair. Hmm, guess I'm not so jack of all tradey after all. I've got a lot of more specialized knowledge, and maybe more than most peoples general knowledge, but... What I don't know, I can get from a book. My fictional character probably has never seen a handyman book. If he doesn't know how to do it, he's stuck.

It's something to think about, and remember as I'm writing.

Anyway, next time, I'm hoping to post a bit of fiction. We'll see what my muse drags out of me over the next couple of days.....

Clear skies, Jim.

Kauai Lighthouse

On the eastern coast of Kauai is the Kilauea lighthouse, set on a clifftop protruding into the Pacific ocean. When we were there this last time, strong winds came from offshore, and the albatross and other sea birds were soaring up the cliff face, circling out to sea, then diving down in search of food. Far below, the waves smashed the cliff face. It was, to say the least, exhilarating. The photo above is looking south, along the coastline from the base of the lighthouse.

I think this image is one I've kept in mind for another of my writing projects, Light house, Light home. Its isolation from civilization (a long, winding road leads to the peninsula upon which it sits) brings an image that fits a story very well. I'm still mulling over the plot of course, it's one of those projects that won't go away, I keep coming up with enhancements and ideas. Ghost singer is an off shoot of this project, a way of developing one possible character in a prequel.

So, from this picture, I suspect I'll soon post the proverbial thousands words that it is worth. Stay tuned.....

TTFN,

Jim

Description

I have found that descriptions are all too often a cliche, especially when I begin working on a project. The bar is smoky, the shadowy figure lurks in the corner, He shook in his boots like a wet puppy dog. I do notice, however, that as I get into a project, my descriptive voice tends to reject the cliches more easily. This is a thing I need to practice.

My secondary project, Ghost Singer, arose in part from a descriptive exercise where I decided to describe a singer's voice 10 ways. It was actually one of 2 similar exercises, another one I spent time listening to one singer for a while, then trying to convert the feel of the voice to words on a page. This exercise however, was a series of metaphors and similes. Two in particular struck me as story worthy. See if you can find your own story in these descriptions...

1. His voice was like a fleece lined denim jacket flecked with lint, old and ratty, but full of warmth.
2. Her song rang through the convent courtyard, birds took to wing as the echoes startled them from their slumber.
3. He sang off key, like an old pickle, just a bit too sour.
4. She began so gently and melodiously that the forest stilled its own leaves so as to be able to hear each note as if it were the only one.
5. He rang the bell, then matched the tone with an ascending sequence of clear notes, held long past the point of breathlessness.
6. She held her hand over her mouth and sang quietly, afraid to be heard, even though her notes were balanced.
7. He finished with a bellow, the roar of an ox driven to pull a too heavy cart.
8. She held her note, wavering, siren like, until the last echo of the pipe organ drifted into the night, then collapsed her voice in a rasping gasp for air.
9. He raised his voice in a tinny falsetto, shrieking his words against the clatter of the bar. A single drunk raised one eyebrow in irritation at the harshness of the note.

10. Her dulcet tones echoed through the graveyard, wide and soft and bright, such that even the wraiths of the night came forth to listen in awe, through the song each ghostly spirit remembered a time before the pain and despair of their existance. When the song ended, they held the joy for a heartbeat, then the anger returned stronger with jealousy.

Numbers 4 and 10 interested me the most, and after working on them more, became the root of a character description, a protagonist whose voice could still a forest, or calm the walking dead. From there, I needed a plot, a source of the power of her voice, and a setting. So, Inn of the Stumbling Friar, are you ready for the ungrateful dead that rise from the past to haunt you?

Clear skies,
Jim

Moral Responsibility versus Organizational Needs.

There's a scary title. It's a scary subject.

First, a legal disclaimer. The following opinion is mine. Under no circumstances should you take my words as anything other than an opinion. There is no attempt, or desire to undermine public confidence in the US Air Traffic Control System, it is the safest in the world. I am going to discuss elements of a briefing that, however, I found morally difficult to swallow. Keep in mind, I'm a INFP, and so when I become upset on a values level, I tend to simmer, and eventually break out the lance and charge the windmill. That's what healer-guardians do...

Having said that, Let me back up the tale a bit. A while back, there was an aircraft accident involving a Lifeguard flight that was flying VFR through mountainous terrain during a mid shift. To make the long story short, it crashed, killing both pilots. The reasons for the crash have yet to be officially determined by the NTSB, and that really isn't the subject of my rant, anyway.

We had a preliminary briefing on the accident last week. In it, management outlined the basics of the crash, and explained which rules the controller appeared to have violated (none caused the crash, rather they were procedural things that liability lawyers love to pick at) The gist of their briefing was that we should be careful, follow the rules, because if you don't, the liability lawyers will get us. (DD, help me out if I missed an important point)

Then we got a counter-point from the union side, the controller involved explained how the NTSB investigation went. He wasn't arguing that he didn't do things wrong, or cut corners. Rather, it seemed to me that his whole point was that, the interviews were scary and inconvenient to him, taking 5 hours of his day, and as such, he'll never put himself in that situation again.

Time and again, we've heard the scare stories, "Screw up, and some attorney will sue your pants off." I asked around, in the 20+ years I've been at Denver center, there have been only 2 or 3 cases where controllers have had to testify in a accident lawsuit, and in none of these cases, were the controllers facing any financial penalty, or career termination. However, they've had the inconvenience of being grilled by an attorney who was trying to fix blame in such a way that someone will get a lot of money, or the FAA won't have to pay.

Now, I"m all for avoiding inconvenience. And I really don't want to get involved in an NTSB investigation, I've been involved in a fatal accident, and I felt horrible, even though there was nothing I'd done, or could do. But, the sense I got from the controller's statement was that, he'd been trying to help a vfr pilot, the pilot screwed up, the controller cut some corners and now he's inconvenienced. It seemed he was saying, "THEREFORE, I SHALL NEVER HELP A VFR PILOT OUT IN MARGINAL CONDITIONS AGAIN, AND NEITHER SHOULD YOU, CAUSE YOU"LL BE INCONVENIENCED."

I heard the statement (paraphrased, but basically correct). I looked around the room and saw far too many people nodding in agreement. I wanted to scream.

Here's where I disagree. I've helped VFR pilots in similar situations (no radar coverage, marginaly vfr conditions, confusing situation) In at least one instance, I'm convinced my actions (in advising the vfr pilot to stay on my frequency, even though I couldn't see where he was, so I could feed him weather info and eventually talk him into returning to Goodland Kansas, and when he decided he was lost, vector him toward the airport after using rules to figure out where he really was) probably saved lives for that very evening there were two vfr plane crashes due to icing in the area into which my vfr was flying. Had I told him, "Can't see you, leave me alone", he could very well have been the third accident that night.

Now, I'm not advocating putting myself (and hence, the FAA) in an impossible situation, either. Follow the rules, tell the pilot about the dangers ahead, do everything you can think of to help him, but don't abandon him because it's inconvenient for you if he crashes. Sure, inconvenient, but he'll be dead. that's real inconvenience.

That's where the title of this post comes in. When I helped the VFR pilot years ago, my supervisor put it in for an award. But when QA listened to the tapes, they found 3 instances where I'd omitted the word 'suggested' (out of 7 times) when suggesting a heading for the lost VFR pilot. Because of it, they couldn't submit the "save", because the lawyers will pick it apart. Then, I was taken aside by an area manager and told though I'd done a fairly good job, in essence I'd put the agency at risk for being sued, had the pilot actually crashed while following one of my 'suggested' headings. The exact quote was, "sometimes, you have to balance the needs of the organization against the needs of the pilot". In other words, 'don't inconvenience us by helping too much when the rules don't allow it."

Gaah! DOn't help, cause we might get sued! Gaah! Gaah!

My moral responsibility is to help pilots stay out of trouble. My moral responsibility will always trump the fear of inconvenience to myself. I don't like it that there are many controller who don't feel this way, but... Those of us who do will always try.

Anyway. It's a rant. And again, it's an opinion.

TTFN,
JIm

Da Weekend

An interesting week it has been. If you're paying attention to the work in progress tally on the left, you've noted I've added content to Imperfect Hope. Grinding away. I even let my inner critic loose (okay, it escaped, and it took me a couple of hours to put it back in it's cage) on the first few scenes and did some minor revision work. In the meantime, a new project jumped out at me, tentatively titled Ghost Singer. It will take place at the Inn of the Stumbling Friar, and may include some old friends from D'oril, as well as new ones. For now, it's in outline planning stage, and feels like it will be a short story.

SO why am I allowing myself to work on multiple projects? In some ways, I feel I have to. I focus on one project (Imperfect Hope), but often ideas pop up that wouldn't fit in that tale, but carry enough power and interest to require a home for itself. It's my own imperfect hope that I will continue to focus 80% of my energy on Imperfect Hope, the rest split between writing exercise, this blog, and other story ideas that are clamoring to get out of my skull (stop shouting, you'll all get your chance at daylight!)

In the meantime, two other issues raised their heads and hissed at me this week. One, I keep going back to those personality tests, and got to wondering about alter ego's. More specifically, I thought about how most of us in the IFGS play one particular character. My observation had been in the past that what you play tends to be an exaggeration of your own personality, this seems borne out by those PC's and their 'persons' that I know well enough to recognize a little of where they may fit in Myers-Briggs. But... I know that an outsider can't truly label someone in the M-B scheme, some areas I just can't extrapolate. So, an idea has come up.

I'm going to load onto the blog a link to the anonymous MB test, and ask my readers (reader?) to take the test. Then if you're an IFGS'er, then take it a second time, from the point of view of your main character. I'm most curious to see if there is a difference. If you're not an IFGS'er, don't worry. Perhaps you might try answering the questions from the point of view of how you want other people see you, or if you were a heroic-type character. Or just take it the one time.

Then, I'll have 2 polls on the blog. First poll, you can anonymously post your MB rating, then you will have a chance to reenter the data (again, anonymously) for your character if it is different. If you don't mind me knowing your MB data, feel free to email me and tell me about your rating, your character, and what the differences are, in your opinion. I'm really interested in how you might be altering your base personality in order to create (tadaa!) what you consider to be a hero (or heroine).

If I get some data, I'll post again on some of my opinion on characters, personality, and heroism. If I don't, I'll haunt you in your sleep until you respond, or move to New Jersey...

The other issue this week will earn it's own lengthy post tomorrow or Tuesday. I know I"ve promised myself I'd not rant about work here, but this time, I have to. In a nutshell, there was a all-hands briefing I attended on Friday that raised an issue about personal responsibility versus organizational responsibility. I was stunned at the response of some of the people I work with. So, I'll rant tomorrow. Be ready to wear dark sunglasses when you read.....

For now, clear skies
Jim