∴ What if the light at the end of the tunnel is the headlamp of an oncoming train?
Well, at least there's something different here. This is not the first event to occur in the past 5 months.
How 'bout you? Huh; guess I'll have to move this to a real blog platform so you can comment.
My daughter Cheyenne is 26 today. I haven't seen her since she was 20.
I'm having fun with cinematography at an amateur level. Jerry Kennedy is great in front of a camera.
Playing with Animoto. I'm addicted.
Nothing like a family emergency to shift your priorities. Much has happened, of which I may someday write. For now, here's an experiment using Amazon's S3 storage services and some free tools to stream a video I made and processed myself instead of depending on YouTube, which ain't my first choice (that was Google video, which has gone away; yet another reason to never depend on anyone but myself. Wait; I didn't say that out loud, did I?)
Rick Cooper, the Attraction Marketing Expert and all 'round nice guy, introduces his presentation on 'Using Twitter for Business' to the local meeting of the NCAE on 27 April 2009. The entire presentation may eventually become available.
Today. It's today, for sure. After Sue takes her shower, we'll pack up some clothes and go bring her home.
Two weeks today. Seems like forever, and then it seems like nothing at all.
Gonna be a lot of 'thank you' cards going out. Every single day I'm thankful for the worldwide network of friends supporting my family and I.
Thank you. From Sue, Joel, Fiona, Rachelle, and even James—thank you all.
Not today.
The surgeon spent the whole day in an emergency surgery and didn't want to start work on Sue's abdominal staples at 4:30 p.m. We don't blame him. So, tomorrow, he'll remove them and send her home.
She had a regular solid lunch and dinner, so she' have one more night in hospital after she's back on a regular diet, minimal pain meds, more or less like she'll be at home. Better than coming home too early, like last time.
Tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow.
This morning they removed a nasty drain tube from Sue's side. There was no pain. She was pleased, to say the least (last time they removed one of these drains, three years ago, they had to go around to the other patients and reassure them that a grisly murder had not just taken place; the screams seemed to unsettle them.)
The surgeon's schedule is messed up because he was at the hospital all night, but he's hoping to come back this afternoon, remove the staples (ouch!) from her incision, and send her home.
Today.
In the meantime, he wants her to eat a regular lunch, not the mushy soft liquid diet she's been on. She's had minimal pain, no nausea, very little negative anything, for three days.
Maybe, today's the day.
It's not official 'til we hear it from the surgeon, but yesterday after they sent a camera down to look around in Sue's stomach, the nurse mentioned that the notes on the computer said that it was gastritis, an inflammation of the stomach's lining, almost certainly caused by the abscess they've drained.
If that's the case, there's no need for another surgery, and Sue could be home by the weekend. Of course, we've been through this before so I'm not going to get my hopes up intil I see the whites of her eyes.
Did you know that the sentence 'the quick blonde foxy office administrator jumped over the crazy guy who loves her' uses every letter of the English alphabet?
Huzzah and HOOrah! They removed the nasogastric tube earlier today, and when I left the hospital, Sue was enjoying a hearty meal of vegetable broth, black tea, apple juice, and jello—the first food she's had in eight days.
Every one of the medical personnel who see her incision comment on how very good it looks; no swelling, bruising, anything unpleasant.
Things seem to be moving forward nicely, and Sue is in a very positive frame of mind.
Thank you all for your support; the meals, the phone calls and visits, the cards, balloons, and stuffed animals—thank you.
Inch by inch . . .
Baby steps:
Baby steps.
FAWM kept me busy during February. A seminar, too.
Friday night, things got much much busier when I rushed Sue to the emergency room.
Immediately after a business lunch Friday she started feeling nauseous. Since we'd shared a bowl of soup and a sandwich and had exactly the same herbal tea, food wasn't the first suspect. By 4:00 she started throwing up, and instead of making her feel better, like when she has a flu, she got worse.
The Kaiser ER is six minutes from our house. It's completely new and slightly overstaffed, so from the time we left home to the time she was in a room with pain medication in her veins while they ran blood tests was under an hour.
Our biggest concern—strike that. Our giant enormous overwhelming concern was that it was a recurrence of the pancreatitis which almost killed her three years ago (there's a PDF Sue wrote about it at her website. It turned out that it was only indirectly related; an abscess had formed and hidden out for three years before it woke up and did the recent damage. But so far, there's no indication we're going to see a recurrence of that nightmare.
Sue's in good spirits. They're controlling the pain of the operation, helping her get up and take short walks already, and generally taking excellent care of her. She's alert and ready to do something; a big change from last time, when she literally lay there, almost motionless, for the first three months. She didn't have the mental strength to read the simplest things (if you know Sue, you know she reads at least a book a week, so Sue not reading is like most folks not breathing.) This time, it's different; it's better.
I'll keep you posted.
Musician and musical entrepreneur Charlie Cheney is doing an online radio show and for some reason decided he should talk to me a lot. We'll be foisting this nonsense on an unsuspecting world every Monday evening for the foreseeable future. Check Charlie's BlogTalkRadio page for the schedule, time, archives, and all that blather. And call in! Call and actually talk to us during the show! Your very own voice will appear right here in these podcasts! You'll be as famous as I am!
Maybe that doesn't mean as much as it could, huh?
Since I hate noises automatically starting on web pages, you'll have to click the 'Play' button below to listen.
When: Saturday, October 4, 2008 7–9 pm
Where: It's A Grind Coffee House
7451 Foothills Blvd., Ste. 190, Roseville, California
Refreshments will be available for purchase
Music: Live music by the Bill Walker Trio
Book Info: An autographed copy of the 214–page hard cover book with illustrations by the author will be available for purchase for only $25 ($14.95 off the cover price.) You can order additional copies at this special price at the book release party.
The purpose of The Commonsense Entrepreneur is to provide a self–analysis checklist for entrepreneurs. When it comes to the skills we use (or would like to use) to make a living, many of us are self-taught. Often this leaves holes in our education. Some we're aware of, others, we're not. This book will help ferret out the latter and allow them to be filled in before they cause problems.
You can download a flyer (PDF) with all the details.
Into the Sunset. Incredibly difficult to get through the story and the song; maybe I'll start telling the story, but not singing the song.
My father was born 300 years too late to be a pirate and about 50 years too late to be a cowboy in the old west. He's been gone almost 25 years and I still hear his voice in my head every day of my life. Sometimes it sounds like this.
there was a time, not long ago when a man's word was his bond if you shook on the deal it was signed and sealed but those days are gone seems these days you can't trust anyone to do what they said they would the world has moved on; good old days are gone and I'm afraid they're gone for good I wanna ride into the sunset like a cowboy in the the old west I got no use for what's goin' on here and I think it'd be for the best there was a time not long ago when a man really owned his stuff what he built with his hands; his home and his land even when times got tough seems these days it's all just on loan from a fellow down at the bank but if we can't pay and he takes it away he says we've only ourselves to thank I wanna ride into the sunset like a cowboy in the the old west I got no use for what's goin' on here and I think it'd be for the best there was a time when young folks cared to hear what an old man said they showed concern for the lessons he'd learned from the kind of life that he led seems these days they don't care what he knows or if he's got something to say they couldn't care less, and I have to confess that I'd rather just ride away I wanna ride into the sunset like a cowboy in the the old west I got no use for what's goin' on here and I think it'd be for the best I got no use for what's goin' on here and I think it'd be for the best
Have I earned your trust?
I'd sincerely appreciate five minutes of your time to complete this anonymous survey.
That is all.
It's Cold Out There, performed May 2nd at Kyle and Beth Stephens' home. Our warmup song.
Rocket Surgery, performed May 2nd at Kyle and Beth Stephens' home. He's not a stalker.
Look My Way, performed May 2nd at Kyle and Beth Stephens' home. This is not country.
Like the Sea, performed May 2nd at Kyle and Beth Stephens' home. Listen to that echo.
The Hillside, performed May 2nd at Kyle and Beth Stephens' home. Love those harmonies.
I'm not sure if it's a reflection of who I am, or just where I am today, but in the past year I've read more business books which have affected me emotionally than I've read fiction.
The Dream Manager is a parable, a story which teaches a point or moral. The point in this case is that a business manager can achieve their own dreams, both business and personal, but helping those who work for them achieve their own dreams. It's a practical application of the Golden Rule, doing for others what we'd like done for ourselves.
It will be easy for business folks to dismiss this book as fluffy and unrealistic. Five years from now, those who do will continue to struggle, and those who actually have dreams and pursue them will be happier and more successful.
I intend to be one of them.
February, the longest month of my life, was followed by March, the shortest month of my life.
I've added a link to all the new music, and my book 49 Commonsense Business Observations is available from my website (or you can get it from me directly and save the shipping cost.
I've set a goal of July 1st to have the new book done, but the bulk of the work will be finished by the end of May so I'll be able to start on my third book, a collaboration on musical entrepreneurship.
It's over. February turned out to be the longest month of my life, I think.
Eighteen new songs, order my new book, and still ate and slept occasionally.
All them new songs and the book will be here some time soon.
Please put your seat trays up and raise your seats to their upright position: it's time, once again, for over 1,000 lunatics to gather at FAWM and try to write 14 songs in 28 days. Well, being a leap year and all, we'll each try to add a collaboration, making it 14.5 songs in 29 days.
Won't be around much during February, since it's also shaping up to be the biggest business month of the past nine.
Read all about the February Album Writing Month at the website, and spread the word, if you so desire, with this here PDF with a bit of pertinent information.
Even if you ignore the marketing parts and focus on Seth Godin's thoughts on curiosity, you'll know more about me when he's done than you probably do now.
A film by Nic Askew
48 tomorrow. That's a good number; not quite a power of two, but divisible by 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 8, 12, 16, 24, and 48.
The 21st would have been Mom and Dad's 50th wedding anniversary. I look at gents like Chuck, who's 73, and think that Dad would have been a year older than he is.
Then, Wednesday, four years of marriage. 1/12th of my life. It's been good.
The songs are still coming, as fast as I can get them out. I'm rapidly reaching the point where I don't care how they get recorded. I just do it, and eventually, I'll have the skills I need to do what I want without waiting on anyone else.
Which may have become the theme of my life. Except for the fact that I couldn't live one minute without Best Beloved, which may be why she figures so prominently in my music.
Despite the struggles and frustration, I love my life and I'll be glad to see a lot of years past 48.
Every day, I try to practice my piano chords, a few bass lines, and some guitar chords. I decided that tiny little incremental steps would be better than a) pretending I would someday take lessons or otherwise invest a lot of time to get up to speed quickly and b) never doing it.
The odd thing is that I've reached a tipping point. My guitar playing improved exponentially over a few days. When I added diminished and suspended chords to my piano practice, it took two days to get comfortable, instead of the weeks it took for both majors and minors. (Check out Duane's free online/email piano lessons. Excellent resource.)
It's had a direct affect on my songwriting, being able to play chords on the guitar. Two completely new songs in a week, and completed music for some lyrics I wrote 18 months ago. The first new song is the first time I've totally given in to my country roots. It came out sounding a lot like Alan Jackson, which makes pretty much no sense at all. Maybe I'll even post demos here.
Practice may or may not make perfect, but it sure makes better.
I wish I could overcome this obsessive need to be doing something useful. I have a really hard time doing something that doesn't feel like I'm creating a useful end result. I'm not very good at frittering.
There's always going to be something else to do. Always another project, another tweak to an existing project, another dream to chase.
I even feel like my recreation has to be focused. Yet, somehow, I still don't feel like a workaholic. But I think about my CommonsenseEntrepreneur tasks more than almost anything else. I'm always considering how this or that fits in with my writing, speaking, etc.
And then, I have trouble sleeping; feel tense and anxious; stop enjoying it all.
Where's the joy in that?
It's right here:
In their book First, Break All the Rules Marcus Cunnigham and Curt Coffman, while discussing the thinking pathways we form in our heads (four-lane highways versus overgrown hiking trails) and various forms of talents (our repeated, natural abilities and actions) say this on page 91:
Similarly, some people have a four-lane highway for constant achievement, a striving talent we call achiever. They may not have to win, but they do feel a burning need to achieve something tangible every single day. And these kind of people mean "every single day." For them, every day—workday, weekend, vacation—every day starts at zero. They have to rack up some numbers by the end of the day in order to feel good about themselves. This burning flame may dwindle as evening comes, but the next morning it rekindles itself, spurring its host to look for new items to cross off his list. These people are the fabled "self-starters."
I'll settle for being 'fabled.'
I'm back up to 277, after, at least once in the past six months, getting below 270.
Bears are supposed to fatten up for the winter. I'm not a bear. I don't think I'm a bear, at least.
Been watching The Amazing Mrs. Pritchard on PBS. I think I'm caught up in the 'regular person breaks into closed circle and changes the world while changing themselves' story, and how I can make it my own. Stories capture me.
Lately everything seems to end up being about business; how it fits with The Commonsense Entrepreneur, or how I can make another dollar today. It's not about money, it's about balancing my obligations with my dreams. When has that ever been easy?
Well, at least under the current Life Regime, it's possible.
Here I am doing my best to assert my individuality, accepting myself as I am and assuming the rest of the world, personal and professional, will do the same.
So why am I all excited that seven years ago some guy I've never heard of came up with the term "Generation Jones" for those of us who know full well we're not Boomers, and sure aren't GenXers?
Almost as befuddling: why am I pleased with the label "Generation Jones" ?
Finally saw the Monkees/Jack Nicholson movie Head last night.
It is bizarre.
Other than the obvious self-referential mocking of the insincerity of the media, it has no plot or point. It does have two Carole King songs, one Harry Nilsson song, two written by Peter Tork, and one by Mike Nesmith.
In one fascinating scene, after Davy Jones sings Daddy's Song by Harry Nilsson, Davy and Toni Basil do a dance routine all dressed in white, against a black background—and the same routine dressed in black, against a white background. Scenes from each are cut together to make a single dance, sometimes flashing back and forth so fast it's like a strobe effect. It is very cool, and uses no special effects whatsoever.
Most people won't 'get' Head either because they wanna know what it 'means' or because it's just plain bizarre.
Fine with me; most people don't 'get' me either, and often for the same reasons.
It's one of those gloomy days where a fireplace makes the difference between 'bleh' and 'oh, isn't this nice?'
The Little One slept until 11:00, and sounds like she has corks in her nose. Mommy didn't sleep well, and it seems like everyone is a little off today.
In what could be a really bad coincidential precedent, as the Little One was standing on the couch yelling at the TV commercial about a dollhouse "I want that! I want that!" (only the second time she's ever done that, the first being about a week ago, also about a dollhouse) there was a knock at the door, and Mommy announced "That's it now!"
Some friends had a dollhouse and a bag of dolls they just didn't have room for, so they'd made arrangements to drop it off today.
I wonder what'll happen next time she stands up on the couch yelling "I want that!" and there's no knock on the door.
The Little One coughed until she threw up last night. Big sister brought her in to mommy, who, sadly, put her in the shower and washed her hair.
Only a three-year-old would prefer vomit-hair to a 2 a.m. shower.
In other news, Best Beloved (a.k.a. 'mommy') and I seem to be on an emotional upswing. Business plan shaping up, old friends getting in touch, and, oh look; a little time caring for the concerns of others. Amazing how therapeutic it is putting aside your own problems for a bit and really focusing on someone else. It also feels good when, in one case, they unselfishly helped you when you really needed it, before they even knew you well, just because it was the right thing to do.
It's easy to love principled people.
It never occurred to me that people might actually make a living doing public speaking.
Some research somewhere says that the two things people fear most today are death and public speaking, and not always in that order.
Since I love public speaking and I'm good at it, I should find a way to market myself. I just need to stop writing like this is a business journal; it's supposed to be my place to vent. Maybe I'll never be comfortable posting what I really feel in a public place (well, not again) no matter how unread I think it is.
The supplemental job search began today. Must be not too demanding mentally or physically, flexible schedule, and close to home, because I'd rather starve than commute.
At least right now.
Forrest, the youngest of my first batch, turned 18 two days ago. It's been four and a half years since I've seen any of them; it's becoming frustrating.
In other frustration news, this .NET project is really getting on my nerves. I'm fairly sure the only reason to learn .NET is because Microsoft is forcing classic ASP into obsolescence. For a hand-coder like me there just aren't enough benefits. Connecting to a database, laying out tables of data, creating forms: all the 'cool' .NET tools are great for simple applications, especially if you just want to use the GUI to design them. But when you have to relearn everything you know about coding and syntax, and then have to customize everything the GUI creates, it's turning out to be more work than if I'd just done it the old way.
It's maddening trying to find the balance between charging the client for my time and being fair about the learning curve. How much of this time is my fault? How much is pure learning, not billable to the client? How much is caused by their insistence on how the work gets done?
While I'm trying to transition the business from pure web development to business analysis and consulting, it's hard finding the balance between what I want to do and what I have to do to pay the bills.
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