Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa, Mea Maxima Culpa

I think I've mentioned it once before but on Thursday nights Tammy and I participate in a program at our church called Alpha. Last week, before the festivities began we were sitting in the library at the church about to ask God to bless the evening when Dan looks up at the picture of Jesus on the wall and notices that the eyes are looking down directly at me. He couldn't resist and said something like "Wes, Jesus has his eye on you".

Allow me to take a moment and explain. I spent most of my life not attending church. It wasn't until I moved out to the sticks and met Tammy that I began to go regularly. Dan is the pastor there and performed our wedding. Over the last 3 years I've grown more as a Christian and a person than at any time that I can remember. Much of that growth I attribute to Dan's teaching and friendship. Anyone who can step up to the pulpit wearing Converse minus the laces and use The Terminator in a sermon as a device to describe relentlessness is bound to catch my attention.

So, when Dan says "Jesus has his eye on you" my first thought wasn't that he was being cheeky and referring to the picture above my head.

He has that sense of humor though and we all had a good chuckle. The next day however I had couple of "3G double takes" when I received two text messages, both with the image above. The first entitled "I saw that" and the second "I heard that". If you look closely you can see the reflection of my friend Doug snapping the picture with The Holy Camera Phone capturing the image that will forever be my metaphor for iron sharpening iron. It's a joy to spend Sundays with a terrific group of chuckle heads.

So now, it is time for my confession. Hi, my name is Wes, and I'm a Road-Rage-a-Holic. I am constantly fighting the urge to wave at my fellow motorists minus 3 fingers and no thumb. I have Navy veteran friends who have winced after hearing me express my frustration at the lowered Honda Accord with the glass pack muffler that jammed itself in front of me. Bill, Tony, that's you, and no I don't know what a glass pack really is, but it's part of what makes those cars annoying I think.

Someone recently asked me "Who would want to read a commuting blog?" and my answer was I have no idea. I do know this; two things lately have kept the gamma rays from making me ruin my shoes, riding the bus and writing this blog. There is an extreme sense of helplessness when people do the things I rail about here. For me, it's like having my arms tied to my side while people whiz by counting coup.

Ok, ok, I'm not going to force someone off the road and beat them with French bread or anything. I'm sure that's the image that comes to mind when you see Road-Rage-a-Holic. That's what happens when the rage comes out of a person in a forceful way. Ultimately I have more of the Ox response, "My Doctor said I swallowed a lot of anger, along with a lot of pizza eheheh". Either way, I don't know any people who spend significant time in traffic that can sit back and say "Gee, gosh, these things happen". I think the bulk of us respond with either an inward and/or outward reaction to the frustration and anger.

Since I don't see physical altercations daily on the freeway I'm going to assume that most of us respond inwardly (mostly). I'm guessing that inattention accounts for some of these incidents but there are a fair number that are people who just don't feel that the rest of us are worth the time it would take to consider. Even harder to understand is the person who sees their behavior for what it is and revels in it. The last two are those that push me to the uglier parts of my rage.

Thankfully I have a support system comprised of family and friends who love me that keeps the pot from boiling over. It's a love that is so much more than the kind sung about on Casey Kasem's list. It's a verb, not a noun.

I'm better on the road than I used to be, really. Still though, I think that people who get caught doing silly things on the freeway should have to post their cell phone numbers on their rear bumpers. I might want to forward them a text message.

Don't drive angry! Drive weird!

Mr. Watson – Come here I want to see you.

 

As I was having my sandwich assembled at a Subway in Bellevue I noticed this sign. I'm used to seeing this kind of thing in the Doctor's office and the start of a movie, but this was a first. My initial thinking was that of all of the potential challenges faced by the employee at this store how is it that this was the one that made the signage cut? Why not "Try to make your decision before you get in line" or "Please be polite, I've been on my feet all day"? It wasn't long though before I was able to visualize the scenario that led to this decision. It's hard to divide your attention when talking on the phone. It just is.

I spent 5 years perfecting that skill. Working as a police dispatcher conjures up some images for you I'm sure. The 911 operator taking the call, "You say your cats up a tree and he's annoying the neighbors by singing opera while grooming? We'll send someone right away!" The other image you may have is of the radio operator "One adam twelve, one adam 12, see the man, fifth and maple, on a four seventy five violation". During my time in the hot seat we had to handle both tasks, 9-11 and the radio, as well as answer the business lines all at the same time. Dividing my attention between conversations became second nature.

Today of course this is commonly referred to as multitasking. My understanding of the origin of that term comes from the computer industry. Something that is said to be multitasking isn't doing 2 or more things at the same time (that would be multiprocessing) but is in fact dividing its attention between tasks in slices of time based on priority. Allow me to use a Thanksgiving dinner plate to illustrate. On my plate I have

• Turkey, roasted, a touch over cooked.
  
• Mashed potatoes, perfectly done
  
• Cranberry sauce, that congealed type that makes the shlugsh noise when it comes out of the can
  
• Green beans with bacon that has been simmering most of the day
  
• Fruit salad, my Mom's recipe.
  

Ok, assuming one doesn't go crazy mix master on a fine meal and stir all this up (ick!), we'll be eating one food at a time. Now, the older I get the less I can hold, so I like to assign priority to each item so that when I become "moaning full" I have my favorites consumed first. So it goes something like this. Taters, beans, turkey, cranberry, taters, smack myself for putting the fruit salad on the plate and scrape it into a bowl, taters, beans, taters, beans, turkey, cranberry. This repeats until the plate is empty or I have begun to moan audibly, squint and rub my belly. This is multitasking. Your priorities will likely be different than mine, but this should give you the idea.

Thankfully you won't ever get feedback from an item on your dinner plate complaining that you should have given it more priority over the other items. Another unlikely event would be that if you fail to pay attention to one dinner item it may be considered a social offense. Even less likely would be if you ignore your turkey too much you suddenly careen off an embankment causing property damage, injury or death. Umm, well, if any of these do happen during a holiday meal, and you survive, email me and tell me I'm wrong. We'll make sure one of us gets therapy.

The truth is few of us can multitask well between tasks that require concentration. Having a conversation on your cell phone while attempting to order a sandwich is one of them and as the sign above would indicate, it's inconsiderate of the person assembling your meal as well as the other customers in line. Behind the wheel of a car this practice elevates to somewhere starting at rude, traveling through foolish and onto deadly.

In a 2005 study by a University of Utah psychology professor cell phone distraction causes 2600 deaths and 330,000 injuries per year. As the professor puts it, "If you put a 20-year-old driver behind the wheel with a cell phone, their reaction times are the same as a 70-year-old driver who is not using a cell phone, It's like instantly aging a large number of drivers."

I'm glad to see that this study was done but only because it punches up this post. Isn't this really a no-brainer? If we take the time to consider it, doesn't the idea of dividing your attention between a phone call and driving your car scream "DANGER, DANGER WILL ROBINSON"? For me, I'm not a fan of talking on the phone any way, not really, and particularly on a cell phone. I'm the type of person that really needs the other 80 percent of the story that is non verbal. I get rather obsessed with understanding what people are saying and being understood. The telephone works well for disseminating information but for me it's no place to have a conversation.

To sum it up, when you are ordering your sandwich, be considerate. That person making your food works hard. They have an expectation on them to get through the line of customers in a timely manner with a smile and a genuine "thank you". If you are the only person in line, the person serving you has other duties to perform when they aren't making sandwiches and I bet they need to get to it. Oh, and if you are in your car hang up your phone. If I'm going to die young I want it to be from overstuffing myself while packing down my fruit salad not in a mangled mix of Chevrolet and Hyundai.

Don't drive angry! Drive weird!

PS – A 475 violation is of course "A misdemeanor citation for allowing your cat to sit in a tree and sing opera while grooming".

Smpaboak, smpaboak… Faiahhhr!!!

In preparation for today's commute I decided that proper planning dictated I ram my head into the edge of a wall hard enough to cause a wallboard burn. This is similar to a rug burn but with the wallboard texture used to apply the friction. The jury is still out on its effectiveness and I'll report back if it has positive impact.

One of my all time favorite comedy routines is Bill Cosby talking about his trip to the dentist. At one point in the bit he acts out the experience of trying to explain that there is smoke coming out of his mouth from the drill. Of course the problem is that his face is so numb that he can't pronounce the words. I've heard him do this bit more times than I can count and I still laugh out loud.

Driving down the road I'm always on the lookout for cars with their windows down. Whether I'm passing them or they are passing me one experience taught me to be weary until the danger has subsided. Some of you likely know where this is going but for those it's never happened to I'll tell my version of this story.

Some time ago I had a Cosby-esque experience on the freeway. Not with a dentist however, but another commuter. I was driving in the center lane and a midsized pick up began to pass me on my right. As his rear bumper became even with my grill the driver tossed a lit cigarette butt out the window. It's one of those moments that your memory records in slow motion. I'm doing 63, he's going 67, I see the projectile deploy from the other vehicle. It flips several times; smoke trailing while it stabilizes its flight profile. Spotting its target, my windshield, in my mind's eye I can hear the targeting sensor beep slowly at first but quickly cycle to one piercing steady tone. The single staged rocket motor kicks in and the Camel Filtered Guided Missile tracks for my car. I attempt to perform evasive maneuvers but I'm blocked at all sides so I deploy counter measures and begin to pray.

The lit cigarette hit my windshield and defying all the physics at play drops down into my engine compartment. Smoke starts to trail up into my view and I begin yelling "Smoke! Smoke! *expletive deleted* Fire! *expletive deleted* *expletive deleted*" I am forced to make an emergency stop on the freeway. So here's the tough part. Do I wait and hope that fire was simply my imagination or do I pop the hood and find out. When you have an engine compartment fire, opening the hood is probably the worst thing to do. You essentially feed the fire more air and make it angry. The best response is to step back and wait for the Firemen to show up and put it out. Either way, if there's a fire under there chances are your car is a goner.

It was my younger days and I wasn't terribly attached to common sense in any meaningful way and I popped the hood. Fortunately for me the offending item had lodged in a spot that wasn't terribly flammable and everything that was feeding my panic didn't come to pass. That being said let me assure you that my story isn't always the case. There have been plenty of motorists lose their cars to this problem.

I'll skip right by what makes smoking seem like a good idea, but what is it that makes discarding a lit cigarette out of the window seem like a good idea to people? I see this happen almost daily. Every summer the medians burn up, forest burn down, property is destroyed and lives are risked and lost. On the few occasions I've talked to people who do this their response freezes me to my knee caps. "I don't like filling up my ash tray". It's always some form of not wanting to pollute their space in some way. Yup, that's right, torch the rest of us, but hey at least their personal space is tidy and that's what really matters here.

I'm not much of an environmentalist. I think a good part of the ideals behind "the movement" are misguided at best and at worst an easy distraction that lets people ignore more serious problems (like hunger, disease and violence). When I lived in Renton I had a hippie van go by my house each day. In that neighborhood we only got a small bin for paper recycling and when that filled up I would take the mounds of trash that arrived in my mailbox each day and toss it in the covered garbage can. One day Cheech or Chong's wife brought the Nice Dreams mobile to a screeching halt and began to lecture me for tossing paper into the landfills. I had two questions for her before I walked away. "Have you considered protesting about the unsolicited garbage the Postal Service is allowed to deliver to us? Wouldn't it be better to stop the garbage from being printed and shipped instead?" That of course might actually necessitate my neighbor to get involved in a way that required them to invest more than the 20 seconds a day she spent yelling at people like me. In fact, it might actually mean they had to really get involved.

Ok, that aside I am a believer in being a good steward of the land and people who litter make me furious. People who throw objects on fire drive me biting-my-shoulder-barking-bat-weasel nuts. I know the fines have been increased, and I know policemen who gladly write tickets for the offenses. Yet we still have roads covered in trash and smokers who think the world is their ashtray. Here's a thought, perhaps we can add a little activity related penance to those fines. How about all the ecology clubs and people doing community service who pick up trash from the freeways collect up their findings. Then we take people found littering come by and for say two weeks fill their car with the fruits of their labor and drive around with it? Too much? Eh, well, I guess there's a reason I'm not drawn to working in the justice system huh?

Don't drive angry! Drive weird!

A playing card in your spokes

Wow, what a terrifically crisp morning. I'm not much of an outdoorsy guy for that I have to defer to my friend Jason, but I must say when you inhale that cold air, even with the diesel fumes in it, you sure do feel alive!

We were treated to some amazing views of Mount Rainier this morning. Tammy grabbed a bunch of shots. If you just can't get enough camera phone pictures of our commute, all the images we take end up on our Flickr site. There are a bunch there of the mountain this morning.
Growing up we weren't a family that had resources. My Mother could tell stories about living out of a broken down car next to the river and making soup for my 4 older brothers out of water and wishes. More than once my brother Terry and I spent the afternoon pretending that a plastic bread sack with a rock in it was a spaceship to the moon. With the rock inside and the end tied shut you can whip that sack around fast enough to get some pretty good hang time.

I can remember my first bicycle (well, it's the first bike I can remember). It was given to me. At the time I thought of it as a gift, but looking back on it I'm pretty sure if I declined its next destination would have been the dump. It was a smaller rusted boy's bike that had a seat post and a jagged edge where the seat had broken off. I loved it. Conventional wisdom would dictate that I not ride it until a new seat could be obtained, but I've never been one for conventional wisdom. I was Evil Knievel and I still have a couple of scars in some unmentionable spots.

We did get a seat eventually and like any young man I enjoyed the fun and freedom it afforded. The real excitement began though when we rounded up some playing cards and safety pins that turned our bicycles into roaring street eating road machines. We'd clip that card on the strut so that the card extended into the spokes and made a sharp flapping noise as you road. That, my friends, was cool.

I know I'm taking a huge risk here and I fully expect the rotten vegetables to come flying. The bicycle is a sacred form of transportation here in the Puget Sound. I know, it's big everywhere, but here it's sacred. The bicyclist is the highest form of commuter. We spend millions of dollars every year to insure that their needs are met on our roadways. Even more than that, I work in the self proclaimed Bicycle Capitol of the Northwest, Redmond. People here are fanatical.

This picture shows the Pedal Dynamics Bike Shop. This shop is part of the Overlake Transit Center. How many bus stations have that as an onsite service?

If I haven't convinced you of the risk I'm taking, so be it, here goes. If you are riding you bicycle make a decision, you are either a vehicle or a fast moving pedestrian. If you are a vehicle, then you should behave like one. That means stopping at stoplights and stop signs. No, you don't get to weave in and out of the cars when traffic is backed up; you get to wait like the rest of us. If you have a special bike lane, terrific! Enjoy that tax payer provided benefit, but please have respect for the money spent and obey the rules of the road.
On a side note, allow me to point out that the roads and all parts on them are fully funded by your fellow citizens. No, the government isn't some special agency that somehow generates wealth and resources for us to consume, it's a cooperative pooling of money. Have a look at your paycheck sometime, that FICA thing is the key to my point.

So anyway, if you don't care to adhere to the rules of the road and would prefer to have the special consideration afforded pedestrians, I'm ok with that. Ride your bike on the sidewalk. Yes, I know that's not recommended, and yes I know that there's good reason for not doing this, and YES I know it can be hazardous for the people walking there. So, if you make this choice to ride your bike on the sidewalk, here are some things to consider: You can't do this in such a way that is rude or endangers the people walking there, which is why choice one, stay on the road like a vehicle, is the better choice. However, should you choose to ride on the sidewalk, guess what? You have to act like a pedestrian. That means, when the "don't walk" sign is lit, for you it should be understood to mean "don't ride".

I know you look cool in your sleek fitting bicycle getup. Yes, the color yellow is very fashionable in a Lance Armstrong sorta way. The aerodynamics of your helmet is very impressive and you are in enviable physical shape. Guess what? None of that makes you special enough to ignore the rules of the road or to be immune from having to show your fellow commuter common respect. Please stop zipping in and out between the cars and scaring the crap out of the rest of us. Please stop blowing through stop signs and stoplights as if oncoming traffic will somehow bend around you like light around Harry Potters cloak (no, not a fan, but I saw the scene and I'm betting most of you have too so it illustrates my point).

If you ride your bike as part of your commute, I am really glad for you and impressed by the effort. All I'm saying is this, if you want to feel special while doing it, try some playing cards and a safety pin.

Don't drive angry! Drive weird!