Each day is like an empty sidewalk waiting to be traveled. Where are you going to go today?
Fun and Games Dept
One Day At A Time.
Last year Netflix rebooted the Norman Lear 1970s sitcom “One Day At A Time”. I’ve watched a couple of episodes and while updated for the 21st century, the vibe is pretty faithful to the original.
Back in January Netflix announced that season two was on its way with this clever promo: a remake of the original’s season two opening credits. I really like the attention to detail!
A Year In A Week.
During my team meeting today I mentioned that it was Wednesday but it definitely felt like Friday. With all the news and the Olympics and Mother Nature whipping her hair back and forth like something sounds like a Nay Nay, this week has felt like a solid year. And it’s only Wednesday.
I’ve blocked Trump from appearing in my Twitter feed, so all I know is that he needs crib notes to remember to be compassionate. Other than that I don’t know what that idiot is doing. I did see that the House representative from our old stomping grounds made some idiotic comments but that woman is a psycho anyway so I’m not surprised. She likes to grandstand because she has absolutely no idea as to what she’s doing, what she’s suppose to be doing, or how she got elected in the first place. I hope the people of NY22 smarten up in November and elect her out of office because she’s a blathering idiot. And no, I won’t dignify her asinine comments by mentioning them here.
I’m energized by the students speaking out about the Parkland High School shooting. It looks like Gen-Z may pick up the mantel where Gen-X and the Millenials have completed failed. More power to them.
Wing.
I posted this on Facebook earlier today.
When I introduce myself to other pilots I tend to say, “I’m a third-generation Private Pilot. With the last name ‘Wing’, you kind of have to be.” Some will say, “oh, you’re a pilot like your Dad.” All of this is true, and while my Dad and I never flew together with me in the left seat, I’m sure he would approve of my aviator abilities.
On one hand, we are very similar pilots: Like him, I like smaller airports, I like seeing things fairly low and slow and I share his appreciation of the older GA aircraft that populate the skies. But in other ways we are somewhat opposite in our approach: I think the new technology is cool, I like low-wing (he did not), I like talking to ATC (he avoided towered airports) and while he wanted to build airplanes (and ended up building or rebuilding three of them), I have absolutely no talent nor interest in doing so. I want to continue my aviation path to CFI and maybe beyond, he was happy flying VFR in an open cockpit.
The one thing that is definitely common amongst all three generations of us Wing pilots: we have a big smile from beginning to end of each flight. In the photo of me standing next to the Archer III I’m wearing my Dad’s flight jacket. I wear it once in a while. It makes my smile even a little bit bigger. And I count my blessings for having a spouse that loves to fly with me.
Transit.
One of the things I love about living in a large city is the availability of public transit. Earl and I live well within reach of one of the CTA “L” lines, specifically the Brown Line. We can be downtown in less than a half hour. We can be at Jamie and Chris’ house in Albany Park in less than 20 minutes. However, it does take us over an hour to get to O’Hare by train, as we have to go to the Loop, transfer to the Blue Line, and then ride all the way out to O’Hare. That part hasn’t ever really made sense to me.
When we decided to move to Chicago I declared it was my intention to use public transit or walk as much as possible. I’d take the train, take a bus, or enjoy the walk anywhere my feet would take me. If the train doesn’t go where we want to go, I always suggest Lyft before driving. I like to save the driving for places outside of the city, like when I go to Chicago Executive Airport to fly or something.
Everyone else in the family is more apt to drive.
It’s not that I don’t like driving; I love driving, even in the city. It’s just that it seems so un-city like to drive everywhere, especially to places where public transit is a very valid option. I’d rather deal with a drunk on the train than city in traffic on the Kennedy for an hour just to go three miles.
I think public transit is the wave of the future. Making a city realistically easy to navigate via train, bus, or as a pedestrian seems to be the way to go. And this is coming from a guy who’s dreamed of designing roads all his life.
Walk.
Since a regular day involves working nine to ten hours in the home office, there are some days where I need to get out and be around people. I walk the neighborhood every day in the name of exercise, but I can get only so far during my 20 minute walks. After supper tonight I suggested to Earl that we go for a walk downtown. So we hopped on the train.
We decided to walk the Magnificent Mile. It was a beautiful night to walk; it’s seasonably comfortable and the energy of this beautiful city energized me to get me through the end of the week.
We took a brief stop over the river to grab a couple of shots. If you know where this is taken, the camera is strategically placed to leave out one garish “landmark” that was added to the downtown area in the past couple of years.
Chip Off The Old Block.
My father had the habit of saying “Jumpin’ Mice”. Other than that he rarely cussed, which is something that I really admired about my dad. I can probably count the number of times my father dropped foul language on one hand.
I’m trying really hard to get out of the habit of swearing but “Jumpin’ Mice” has solidified itself in my lexicon. That’s not an awful thing.
Dressed.
There’s a popular misconception that people working from home are lounging around in their pajamas, feet propped up on a cat, with Sally Jesse Rafael blaring on the television playing Solitaire on their over-powered company laptop. They answer an email or two just to look productive. They then join a conference call on a sketchy VoIP connection, asking repeatedly if they’re on mute or not and then proclaiming that they have a hard stop at a random time that ends in 2.
As a full-time telecommuter I can safely say this is not how it works. At least in the circles in which I travel.
When it’s time to start my workday, I am up, showered, dressed and ready to tackle my career responsibilities at the beginning of the workday. Admittedly, it takes a good amount of discipline to maintain this structure on the darkest of winter days, but the rewards of telecommuting force me to stay focused. I don’t want to lose this gig because of bad work practices. That would be such a petty reason to lose a job.
The key to productive, at least for me, is being properly dressed and more importantly, not working barefoot. Back in my 20s I would work barefoot in the office. I worked at a radio station at the time; the office was in the basement of the owner’s house and I would pad around from studio to workstation in my bare feet like some hippy wannabe. That worked for my 20s, it does not work for a man at the very end of his 40s. I write lots of code, I lead a team of seven, and I am often part of video conference calls, after all, they’re all the rage now. I need to look my best but more importantly, I need to feel like I look my best to be productive. It’s the leader to a great state of mind.
Now, having Virtual Office IL1.02 (my official designation) has its perks. Earl makes me breakfast and lunch 95% of the time. My schedule allows me a little bit of flexibility; I am able to work my most productive hours of the day. I know I need to get my meetings out of the way in the morning because I write better code in the afternoon. I’ve worked from the car on more than one occasion as Earl and I have made our way back east for the holidays or something. Conversely, when I solve a coding problem in my dreams, I can get up, fire up the computer, and write the winning code and then sleep a few extra minutes the following morning. Personally I am most productive working from home. I don’t need the socialization of an office environment. I actually find it very distracting, though when I have worked in the office those around me mean well.
Ideally I want to do a little more of the Digital Nomad thing during the summer months but work replaced my beautiful MacBook Pro with a Dell Ultrabook with a horrible screen resolution (1366×768). I don’t mind Windows 10, but the screen resolution is like trying to write code on an Etch-A-Sketch. This can be frustrating. I hope to have that rectified before the nice weather rolls around.
They say we need to dress for success; dress for the position you want, not the position you have. Working in my PJs would run contrary to this. I might even slip on a tie before the end of the week.
It feels good to look good.
Snow.
The forecast says we’ve received the last of the snow that was predicted for Chicagoland this weekend. The skies are starting to clear a little bit. Forecasters are saying we’ll see temperatures above freezing in a day or two.
This photo was taken yesterday morning after the plows made their first pass early in the morning. The wall runs along the embankment of the nearby METRA tracks.
Another 6 to 8 inches fell last night. Folks are cleaning out again today. With three separate bands of snow passing through since Friday, some folks waited until today to start cleaning off their cars.
The heavily traveled streets have all been cleared by the city, but the side streets haven’t really been cleared yet. There’s a lot of street with just the tracks of multiple cars passing through.
Some folks have cleared out their traditional parking spot on the street, and in the tradition of Chicagoans, they call “dibs” after cleaning out their area. Dibs are marked with lawn furniture, shovels, children, and in the case, blue tubs.
One never takes a spot that someone has called dibs on. In some parts of the city that might result with a brick on your front seat or something. Don’t take the spot when someone calls dibs.
I’ve been enjoying walking around the surrounding neighborhoods. As people clean their sidewalks, shovel out their cars, or sweep their stoop, they seem pleasant enough. A lot of people have still wished me a good afternoon. That’s nice.
I have to admit that while winter is not my favorite season by any stretch of the imagination (it comes in at number three on the survey), the snow this winter isn’t really bothering me. It’s not a lot, at least by the standards set by my hometown (eastern Lake Ontario snowbelt) and more importantly, Earl and I have a condo and our Jeeps are parked in a heated parking garage.
I don’t mind snow, I just don’t like shoveling and plowing out driveways that are a couple of hundred feet long.
We are approaching mid-February. Spring is not a horrible amount of time away. We’ll be loving the sun soon enough.
In the meantime, say hello to a neighbor.
