Yesterday, I took a quick, one-day (interview) trip to San Francisco. This involved driving up to the Eugene airport in the morning and then boarding one of United Airline’s small Canadair jets. (And doing the reverse process in the evening, of course.) As I was waiting in the terminal before the trip down, I was doing what I usually do at such times: scoping out the other people in the seating area, wondering why they’re all going where I’m going, and musing about who I’ll be sitting next to (or near) during the flight.
As I was engaged in this speculation, I observed an undeniably-obese woman walking, very slowly, with more of a waddle actually, in my direction. Now, such a sighting is not all that unusual these days, what with our national “obesity epidemic,” but the thing that really attracted my attention was that this individual was coughing with an intensity that I can only describe, with any degree of accuracy at all, as a “death rattle.” It was very deep and pretty scary. As she sat down, fairly close to me, I immediately got up and relocated to a point far-away. Not in my breathing space you don’t, I thought.
Shortly after I moved, I noticed at least three other people get up and use the same avoidance tactic. Let me tell you, this person was having some serious issues, and it was no big secret to anyone even remotely in her vicinity.
It wasn’t long after I had resituated myself, though, that I noticed she had activated a nebulizer, right there in the waiting area, and was attempting to inhale all the medicated steam she could get. Periodically, however, she was forced to remove the mouthpiece portion to engage in yet another coughing jag. Yes, serious, serious stuff going on here.
Just my luck, I thought, that she’ll end up in the seat next to me. (Which would be particularly ironic since I had, at check-in, changed my seat assignment to one at the front of the plane.) Really, I wondered, what would I do if that happened? Would I just sit there, as I had during one trip last spring, when I found myself on a cross-country flight seated next to a woman who reported to me she was very ill and had a temperature of 102? Tell me, what is there to do in these situations where you’re basically trapped and at the mercy of someone who doesn’t have the sense to stay home and not infect the rest of the world?
The moment of truth came when it was time to board the plane. I noticed that she had put away her nubulizer and was standing at the front of the line, perhaps seeking priority-boarding due to her disability. I was far back in the line, in no hurry, having a first-row seat waiting for me. When I got there, it didn’t take long to scan the territory…and to discover that, yes, there she was, directly behind me.
Great. She’ll be hacking the entire trip, spewing her germs directly my way. Yuck. What miserable luck.
But, actually, it wasn’t too long before I started thinking that perhaps I was about to catch a break this time around: for apparently the nebulizer had worked some magic, and she was not coughing any more. Maybe it’ll stay this way? (I asked myself. I hoped to myself.) I guess I’ll just have to wait and see, I decided.
Eventually, after we were in the air, she ended up having a rather extended conversation with the gentleman next to her, and I learned (is this eavesdropping? – how could I NOT have heard this?) that she was a severe asthmatic, that her body had picked this totally inopportune time to have an attack, and that she was quite embarrassed at having had to use the nebulizer right there in the airport. Fortunately for her, the man, a stranger, was totally sympathetic and supported her decision to do whatever she needed to do to take care of herself.
Which is exactly what she needed to hear. What a great thing it was that he was there to say it.
So I, of course, started to examine the assumptions I had made and found that my entire process was really, in all honesty, not very attractive. In this case, I had leapt right into a wholly-narcissistic judgment mode, not really trying to understand at all the suffering that had been going on, right there in front of me. From what I could overhear, she seemed like a rather decent human being, caught in a really tough spot by needing to travel with this particular (probably not-contagious) ailment.
Ahhhh…appearances, and the stories we make up in our heads. They aren’t really “the truth,” are they?
Have you ever heard of the progressive, sometimes fatal, affliction called Nikon Acquisition Syndrome (“NAS”)? It is a well-documented, rather widespread, and bizarre human condition. Sufferers are typically in evidence on the listservs devoted to photographic equipment made by Nikon.
I seem to have caught yet another case of NAS recently (it’s not my first time) what with the availability of two incredible new releases from my favorite camera manufacturer. First up is the new 18-200mm f/3.5-5.6 G ED-IF AF-S VR DX Zoom-Nikkor lens (is that a mouthful or what?). It is an incredible zoom lens with the 35 mm-equivalent range of 27-300mm. It has the second-generation vibration-reduction system that lends itself to handholding even at the longer focal lengths. It’s really a “do everything” kind of lens.
I want one.
The trouble with this particular item is that everyone else in the Nikon world seems to want it too. I have had my name on the waiting list at B&H Photovideo for several weeks, holding my breath for the word that they have one in stock. So far, no luck.
The second piece of equipment I’m lusting over is the new Nikon DSLR body, the D80. It’s their “lower-end” (compared to the D200, that is) 10.2 megapixel model. Believe me, it’s not that my current 6.1 megapixel camera body, the D70s, isn’t good enough. It surely is. But, well, the D80 is the newer “toy.”
And I want one.
Now, all I have to do is justify the purchase, somehow, in my mind. The D80 is available right now, if only I could get over this emotional barrier of spending so much money on something that I don’t really need.
On Saturday March 17th, and in the days following, there will be numerous mass demonstrations against the war in Iraq. Most likely the largest of the gatherings will be the march on the Pentagon.
That weekend marks the fourth anniversary of the beginning of this war. And this year, 2007, happens to be the 40th anniversary of the historic 1967 anti-war march to the Pentagon during the Vietnam War. The message of the 1967 march was “From Protest to Resistance,” and is believed to have been a significant turning point in national sentiment. Let’s send a similar proclamation to the world this time around: we won’t stand for this!
I urge anyone and everyone reading these words to participate in the protests scheduled during this March weekend. While I was a college student in northern Wisconsin in the fall of 1967, regrettably I was not yet actively engaged in “the movement;” I was not at the Pentagon that time. And, while I won’t be at the Pentagon this year either, I have made plans to march in San Francisco on Sunday March 18th. It’s time to stand and be counted. And let’s all be counted…by the tens of thousands, by the hundreds of thousands and more…as opposed to this insanity!
It’s not far away. Make plans now. I’ll see you in San Francisco!
I drove up to Eugene yesterday to do some shopping. What with all these interview invitations coming in, I thought I might treat myself to a slightly-updated wardrobe. I have two suits that I currently consider “interview quality,” but, still, it’s been a little while since I bought a new one. So what did I do? I splurged. The suit I found is just what I need and (ohmygod!) the most expensive item of clothing I’ve ever purchased. But, wow, do I look good! (I guess you’ll need to take my word for it!)
The only place I buy suits, slacks and sport coats these days is Men’s Wearhouse, so the drive north was necessary. Plus, it was a warm and sunny mid-winter day and a great time to get out of the house for a little road trip.
While in “the city,” of course, I couldn’t pass up a visit to the local Borders (why no apostrophe?). When I have one of those 30%-off certificates they regularly email me, it’s always so tempting to drop by and pick something up. This time, I wandered over to the just-released non-fiction section for some reason, and I found a title that immediately caught my eye: The No Asshole Rule: Building a Civilized Workplace and Surviving One That Isn’t. Now, you realize, I’ve just barely poked my nose into this work as of this moment…but, my first impression is that this is an extremely worthwhile book. Despite its rather pedestrian title, it was written by a Stanford University professor (of Management Science and Engineering) and offers up the latest research on workplace assholes.
Now, just what is a “workplace asshole” you ask? Ah, there are two tests (p. 9) to determine whether anybody you know is one:
Test One: After talking to the alleged asshole, does the “target” feel oppressed, humiliated, de-energized, or belittled? In particular, does the target feel worse about him or herself?
Test Two: Does the alleged asshole aim his or her venom at people who are less powerful rather than those people who are more powerful?
I’m anxious to find out what the author (Robert I. Sutton, Ph.D.) has to say about such troublesome individuals, how to cope with them, and how to survive a workplace where one (or more) exists.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m Ever gonna make it home again. It’s so far and out of sight… I won’t be happy ’til I see You alone again. ’Til I’m home again and feelin’ right. I wanna be home again and feelin’ right.
It’s not a tremendously large secret that I’m actively engaged in a job search. And have been for quite awhile. After losing a long-time position through a painful institutional reorganization process in 2004, I’ve landed two successive “interim” positions while patiently (or, perhaps, not so) waiting for the “right” and “permanent” job to come along. (Is there such a thing?)
Ahhhh, but there appears to be, as I write this today, reason for optimism (!)…a quality that, I believe, is sometimes conspicuous by its absence in my writings and general life outlook. (Yes, I admit, I’ve often been discouraged.) Here’s the deal: in the last three days, I’ve received one interview invitation per day. This means, counting the recent interview experience I described late last month, that, out-of-the-chute this year, I’m (while mixing metaphors) batting a thousand (four-for-four) in terms of applications leading to interviews. (The other applications I currently have out are for positions that have not reached a closing date yet.) This is an incredible hot streak…and I’m eager to see where this all leads. As the situation stands now, I’m soon traveling to San Francisco (well, actually, San Bruno) and Albany (Oregon), as those interviews have been scheduled. The call I got today was for a position in Sacramento, and I’ve not yet decided whether to accept this trip.
I’m excited! And, while cautious, yes, I’m feelin’ right, right now.
