Warning!! Scientific over-achievers may find this boring, imprecise or both.
Regular folks may want to skip to the last paragraph, immediately, or when you get saturated.
By Rob Watson
Disclaimer: I have borrowed this title from wattsupwiththat science blog on the internet. You can get more detailed information from there and Google searches. The information below comes from my memory. Conclusions may be classified somewhere between "educated Scientific guess" and "Wild eyed speculation".
As an introduction, Many WUWT contributors and commentors forget (or ignore) that most of us followers of that blog have less than 60 college hours in Science classes. While I have more, the grades were almost all "C's" except for one Physics, one Chemistry, one Botany and two Geology classes. (These were "A's"... also got an A in "Physics for Elementary Teachers" but that hardly counts) The following is aimed at making sense of entries by the scientific over-achievers in that blog.
Sometime in the '90's some college students were examining spectral lines (Bright lines made by glowing chemicals, when the light from those chemicals are passed through a prism... chemicals on the sun's surface tend to glow) from sunspots on the sun. A followup study revealed that some of these lines were getting dimmer. This lead to a serious study of those spectral lines. The study showed these lines were indeed diminishing. A forward projection of the rate of decline showed these spectral lines indicated they would be entirely gone by 2015 or so. Then came the bad news. Further study showed when these spectral lines were bright the solar activity was high. When they were dim the solar activity was low. or simply: Bright lines hot sun, dim lines cooler sun. Science based speculation extends this evidence to guesstimate that a repeat in the "Little Ice Age" is upon us.
The sun directs about 1,350 watts of visible light to the earth surface (per square yard/meter per second of time) when directly overhead. As the earth is nearly a sphere, time of day and latitude (Distance away from the tropics) diminish this number. That is slightly less energy than you get from an 1500 watt electric heater. In the northern hemisphere, the difference in solar energy between summer and winter averages about 150 watts per second or so (again depending on time and latitude). The difference between hotter and cooler sun is two or three watts per second. {{You can experiment: Take a radiant electric heater outside about noon Local time (no wind). Lay in full sun for a minute. Stand in full shade for a minute. Turn on heater and stand 3 feet from it for a minute. If the heater has a 1200 watt setting try that. Don't forget to record results.}}
In addition, some research shows a cooler sun has a weaker magnetic field. This allows more cosmic rays from outside the solar system to strike the earth causing more clouds and cooler earth. (clouds reflect some of the sun's energy back into space before it warms the earth.) (yes, they also reflect outgoing energy back down... less incoming, less outgoing). Also, particulate pollution (smoke, dust, volcanos) cause clouds and reflect sun energy... remember, less in, less out. Evaporation rate studies show refectance can range from 10% to 30% in some conditions.
And more: Sea surface temperatures also affect land temperatures. Warm Pacific= El Nino, cool Pacific=La Nina. (for reasons that entirely escape me, oceanographers think sea SURFACE temperatures extend down to 700 feet, or is it meters?) For reference purposes, the last 12 months, July 2010 to July 2011, have been classified as a La Nina year. Warm Sun warm Pacific El Nino. Cool sun cool Pacific La Nina.
A classic La Nina draws a line around the northern hemisphere at about the 40 degree latitude line. Above the line, cold wet/snow winters, stormy summers with heat. Below the line, hot dry summers, cold dry winters. La Ninas are also associated with low solar activity... few sun spots.
Because of the elliptical orbit of the earth around the sun, the Earth (and northern hemisphere) is closest to the sun on January 6 or so giving warmer winters north and warmer summers in the southern hemisphere. This gradually changes to colder winter north and cooler summers south. The Earth also varies its tilt on its axis having a similar result. Sometimes they happen at the same time. This requires more research... could I get a grant?
Mostly agreed upon facts: Temperatures during our time, "Recorded History" have been remarkably stable when compared to the last 600,000 years or so. The advance of continental glaciers during the last several ice ages stopped about the 40 degree latitude. (give or take). The last several warm periods, between ice ages lasted about 10,000 years. Our current warm period is about 12,000 years old. Glacial periods last about 90,000 years. Between 1645 and 1715 there were very few observable sunspots, (ie, low solar activity) This period is sometimes referred to as "The little Ice Age"
Four possibilities: 1. The weather for the next year will be like the last year. 2. The weather for the next 75 years will have a new normal, of which last year is the best example. 3. A new Ice age is about to commence and we will get to see the beginnings, with last year's weather being greatly longed for. 4. What I have been smoking is not what I think I have been smoking.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Saturday, July 2, 2011
American Pride
American Pride
By Rob Watson
A poll by Fox News, July 2, 2011, showed 46% of respondents answered "Yes " to the question: "Are you proud of America, this July 4? 15% more answered "sometimes". 34% said "NO".
For the NO respondents, I should like to remind you 742,000 Americans died in combat, fighting for your right to DIS your country. 437,000 more died of disease and accidents, ( more than half of the non combat deaths were Union soldiers during the Civil War). Another 1,269,000 suffered combat related injuries. (I have removed the Civil War casualties from the Confederate states, as they were fighting for their own rights, not yours.)
Tens of millions of others put their lives on hold, in war and peace, to guard you and yours from those who would challenge your right to life, liberty, and happiness.
It is true that from time to time an American will behave in a manner not consistent with the American image of Americans. These people reflect negatively on all of us and should disowned. However, Americans do great good, world wide, for the health, happiness, well being, and rights of non Americans.
There may be some questions about the good done by US foreign aid, but non government charities, sponsored by Americans, vastly over compensates for the damage done by other, unamerican Americans.
In general, a person should be proud of his country, whichever one it might be. Nations were formed from like-minded people for their own preservation. Statistics show that half of all people world wide, who leave their native country and move to another, come to America. Perhaps, for reasons not apparent to you NO respondents.
This brings to mind a true story. In the 1960's a young black man joined the Black Panthers. He participated to the full in unlawful activities. It was claimed that he also participated in assaults, murders, and bank robberies. He fled the United States to avoid judgement and punishment for his crimes. He spent many years wandering from one "enlightened" country to the next. He returned to the United States after his wanderings and turned himself in to the police. His quote, as best I remember it was "Do what you have to do to me. This is the greatest country on earth and I want to live here." (This may have been Eldrige Cleaver. He became a convert to the LDS church and the Republican Party)
I do not entreat you to be proud of your country. I suggest you look for reasons to firmly carry that pride in your heart. If you cannot, then, borrowing a phrase from a popular sign seen mostly in the old Confederate states: "Put your heart in Dixie (America) or get your ass out". No exceptions.
By Rob Watson
A poll by Fox News, July 2, 2011, showed 46% of respondents answered "Yes " to the question: "Are you proud of America, this July 4? 15% more answered "sometimes". 34% said "NO".
For the NO respondents, I should like to remind you 742,000 Americans died in combat, fighting for your right to DIS your country. 437,000 more died of disease and accidents, ( more than half of the non combat deaths were Union soldiers during the Civil War). Another 1,269,000 suffered combat related injuries. (I have removed the Civil War casualties from the Confederate states, as they were fighting for their own rights, not yours.)
Tens of millions of others put their lives on hold, in war and peace, to guard you and yours from those who would challenge your right to life, liberty, and happiness.
It is true that from time to time an American will behave in a manner not consistent with the American image of Americans. These people reflect negatively on all of us and should disowned. However, Americans do great good, world wide, for the health, happiness, well being, and rights of non Americans.
There may be some questions about the good done by US foreign aid, but non government charities, sponsored by Americans, vastly over compensates for the damage done by other, unamerican Americans.
In general, a person should be proud of his country, whichever one it might be. Nations were formed from like-minded people for their own preservation. Statistics show that half of all people world wide, who leave their native country and move to another, come to America. Perhaps, for reasons not apparent to you NO respondents.
This brings to mind a true story. In the 1960's a young black man joined the Black Panthers. He participated to the full in unlawful activities. It was claimed that he also participated in assaults, murders, and bank robberies. He fled the United States to avoid judgement and punishment for his crimes. He spent many years wandering from one "enlightened" country to the next. He returned to the United States after his wanderings and turned himself in to the police. His quote, as best I remember it was "Do what you have to do to me. This is the greatest country on earth and I want to live here." (This may have been Eldrige Cleaver. He became a convert to the LDS church and the Republican Party)
I do not entreat you to be proud of your country. I suggest you look for reasons to firmly carry that pride in your heart. If you cannot, then, borrowing a phrase from a popular sign seen mostly in the old Confederate states: "Put your heart in Dixie (America) or get your ass out". No exceptions.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Fear
Fear
by Rob Watson
by Rob Watson
I have been in genuine fear of my life before. The memory of that event is as clear today, more than 30 years later, as when it was happening. I was riding with a drunk with one good arm, driving up the side of a mountain, sheer dropoff on either side. He had a beer in his good hand and drove with a stub of his left arm. I remember earnestly praying to God, asking forgiveness for my sins, and preparing to die. The fear that I felt, and remember so clearly, from that event would barely hold a candle to the fear I felt when asking for my first date, nearly 50 years ago.
Our high school had eliminated the Junior-Senior Prom because of repeated indiscretions of some previous student bodies. This lead to our Football Banquet becoming the social highlight of the year. All of the football team, managers, and coaches, along with their dates would have a dinner and dance at the country club. The dinner would feature a speech by a former HomeTown football hero.
The fall of that school year I was a football team gofer. Also called manager. The speaker was H. T. Hero, leader of HomeTown's State Football Championship team, Heisman Trophy winner, and star running back for some professional football teams. It was to be the hot ticket item for the girls of HomeTown High School. The boys were under a fair amount of social pressure to bring a date.
One guy even asked his sister. At the time, my relationship with my sister was such that I would not have taken her to a dog fight, much less the social event of the season. (presumably, her social consciousness would not have allowed her to accept anyway) This left me in the unlikely position of surveying all the girls I knew and picking one to ask for a date. My first date, ever.
Actually, I don’t recall there ever even being a question in my mind as to whom I would pursue. There was a cute little girl in my fourth hour class that held my interest at the time. Now the pressure was on me to ask this target of my affection for the privilege of her company at the Football Banquet.
Step one was to learn the rules for asking a girl out. My mother had an old Amy Vanderbilt book on manners. That became my guide. A fair amount of what I read has drifted into the dark shadows of long ago, but I remember that for a big social event it was important to give the lady a week or more notice so that she could procure the necessary... whatever. And the guy needed to order the corsage.
Also, it was very uncool, at the time, to be driven on a date by one’s parents. I had no driver’s license. I was old enough, 15. That was back before all these repressive laws stressing teen safety. However the fly in the ointment was my parents requirement that I pay the $160 dollar boost in our car insurance before I could take the drivers test. I was earning 25 cents an hour working in the family store. $160 was a long way into the future for a less than frugal soul such as I was at the time. A $5 flower was to be a stretch. This unresolved issue was to haunt me throughout.
Asking for the date was a daunting and fear filled task. When to ask had a drop-dead date of one week in advance of the event. Anything more than two weeks was too early. How to ask confused me far beyond my planning and organizational skills of the time. Do you just blurt it out? Write a note? Start a conversation and casually drop in “Say, Would you like to attend the social highlight of the season with me?” At the time I had never even been so bold as to meet a girl at the movies.
Two weeks before ‘The Event’ anxiety gripped me every time I got near the object of my interest. Just saying “Hi.” brought on dry mouth and sweaty palms. Casual conversation sent my overtaxed brain into a dizzying spin and set my heart to pounding in my chest. If I said anything to her during that week, learning that what I said made any sense would be one of the big surprises of my life.
As each day lurched past, I tried to maneuver into a position to ask “the question”. My courage failed me every time. Opportunity after opportunity slipped from my grasp with ego pounding effect... until the last second of the last hour of the last day, exactly one week in advance of the event.
You may ask what was so awful to be feared? Rejection? Humiliation? Death? My brain never went so far as to analyze that question. Fear of the unknown has to be the retrospective conclusion.
With the clock ticking, I stalked the girl from the classroom. With pounding heart and addled brain I was almost completely disabled. By default, blurting out was going to have to be the only viable technique I could manage. Catching her at her locker, exchanging her books, I approached. I could hear no sound beyond that of my own heart. My peripheral vision had compressed into looking down a narrow silvery tube. All I could see were her eyes and part of her face. The clock had run out. the buzzer was about to sound. Boom! I blurted it out “... would you go to the Football Banquet with me?”
“Why, yes, I would like that.”
Yep, flying up the side of a mountain with a one arm drunk at the wheel... What do they say now? NO FEAR!
Two Hundred Words
Two Hundred Words
by Rob Watson
A few years ago I moved to State and found a job teaching. State issued me a temporary certificate to teach Science. I taught two sections of General Science to high school freshmen and two sections of Ecology to juniors and seniors. The freshmen had no choice. The juniors and seniors were either interested in the subject, or afraid of Chemistry and Physics, or thought they would get to catch fish by shocking them with electricity. (a popular lesson in the former teacher's class)
The General Science book was enormous. It weighed about 15 pounds. I tried to follow the built in lesson plans. They had been divided into two 45 minute lessons for each section. Each lesson had suggested activities and a suggested time allotment. It became immediately clear that the authors had never spent a minute in a real freshman high school class, nor had they made any real effort to test their activities in a real setting. Their 10-15 minute enrichment activities usually took an hour (60 minutes) out of a 85 minute class. I, early on, calculated it would take most of the year to finish Chapter One.
Please do not misunderstand. The lesson plans were thorough and well done. I would have loved to work my students through the whole thing. All I needed was twice as much space, four times as much time, and a couple of assistants to set things up for the activities. I stopped reading the "list of Materials" so I have no idea about how many other things might be needed.
The science teachers in that school system, junior high and high school, had gotten together and assigned subjects to be "covered" by each grade level there. My specific assignment was not quite clear to me. Mostly due to a lack of faith in those teaching before me... my freshman students demonstrated a thorough ignorance of science topics. I had a "lead teacher" whose task was to keep me on the right path. I always felt he was over-matched by my stubborn insistence in doing things my own way. (when I found scientific ignorance in a competent student, I felt honor bound to educate that student.)
In the classroom I tried to explain the topic and offer real examples of the application of the topic. By the "evaluator" of my teaching skills, this was called "lecture" and was thoroughly condemned. More "activities" were suggested. (see above under: please do not misunderstand).
My tests were mostly definitions in one form or another. I liked repetition, I tried to get each definition onto four tests during the year. (Remember the research that says you need to see an advertisement four times before it registers? Some years ago, professional educators roundly condemned a math book that did this. Because the math book did too much repetition and didn't "cover" enough different topics.)
As I made out my final test I was horrified to count only 200 words and definitions as the total of all I had taught. ( less than 1.1 scientific definition per 85 minutes of classroom time) With my real defects in controlling the classroom, the poor evaluations on my teaching style, and the guy I was suppose to replace staying on another year, the schools decision not to renew my contract seemed to be a good one. (There was also a serious lack of students)
Salve to my wounds came a year later when a tenured friend reported to me that my students had scored better on their "No Child Left Behind" evaluations than any previous class. Who would a thunk it?
by Rob Watson
A few years ago I moved to State and found a job teaching. State issued me a temporary certificate to teach Science. I taught two sections of General Science to high school freshmen and two sections of Ecology to juniors and seniors. The freshmen had no choice. The juniors and seniors were either interested in the subject, or afraid of Chemistry and Physics, or thought they would get to catch fish by shocking them with electricity. (a popular lesson in the former teacher's class)
The General Science book was enormous. It weighed about 15 pounds. I tried to follow the built in lesson plans. They had been divided into two 45 minute lessons for each section. Each lesson had suggested activities and a suggested time allotment. It became immediately clear that the authors had never spent a minute in a real freshman high school class, nor had they made any real effort to test their activities in a real setting. Their 10-15 minute enrichment activities usually took an hour (60 minutes) out of a 85 minute class. I, early on, calculated it would take most of the year to finish Chapter One.
Please do not misunderstand. The lesson plans were thorough and well done. I would have loved to work my students through the whole thing. All I needed was twice as much space, four times as much time, and a couple of assistants to set things up for the activities. I stopped reading the "list of Materials" so I have no idea about how many other things might be needed.
The science teachers in that school system, junior high and high school, had gotten together and assigned subjects to be "covered" by each grade level there. My specific assignment was not quite clear to me. Mostly due to a lack of faith in those teaching before me... my freshman students demonstrated a thorough ignorance of science topics. I had a "lead teacher" whose task was to keep me on the right path. I always felt he was over-matched by my stubborn insistence in doing things my own way. (when I found scientific ignorance in a competent student, I felt honor bound to educate that student.)
In the classroom I tried to explain the topic and offer real examples of the application of the topic. By the "evaluator" of my teaching skills, this was called "lecture" and was thoroughly condemned. More "activities" were suggested. (see above under: please do not misunderstand).
My tests were mostly definitions in one form or another. I liked repetition, I tried to get each definition onto four tests during the year. (Remember the research that says you need to see an advertisement four times before it registers? Some years ago, professional educators roundly condemned a math book that did this. Because the math book did too much repetition and didn't "cover" enough different topics.)
As I made out my final test I was horrified to count only 200 words and definitions as the total of all I had taught. ( less than 1.1 scientific definition per 85 minutes of classroom time) With my real defects in controlling the classroom, the poor evaluations on my teaching style, and the guy I was suppose to replace staying on another year, the schools decision not to renew my contract seemed to be a good one. (There was also a serious lack of students)
Salve to my wounds came a year later when a tenured friend reported to me that my students had scored better on their "No Child Left Behind" evaluations than any previous class. Who would a thunk it?
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Geothermal Senior Moment
Geothermal Senior Moment
By Rob Watson
A web search on Geothermal... whatever, usually generated twenty million hits on air conditioners. After going to the advanced search you can eliminate nearly half of them. What I am looking for is real information on using Geothermal heat to generate power.
You, and I, know that wherever you are, if you dig deep enough you find heat. The problem being, if you end up in solid rock and start drawing heat from it, the rock cools off. The eventual recovery rate of energy is equal to the rate of heat transfer into the area from which you are drawing heat, thermal differences, total area of contact, etc. etc. etc.
Having spent a few years in the oil exploration business, I recalled the seismic data reflections from underground formations. Unfortunately without drilling into the formation you could not distinguish oil and gas from water. The up side is there is a huge library of data (my former employer, Geophysical Service Inc. had ancient files in huge libraries.) that tells you where to look for pools of something. Checking the records should tell you where the drillers found oil, gas, and water.
If memory serves, these data plots recorded information for 6 seconds. At 5 miles per second (speed of sound in rock) that could get you down to the hot rocks. This brings up the question of how deep you can drill. My friends in Louisiana report BP has gone one mile through water and an additional 7 miles through rock. If memory of the thermal gradient in the earth is correct, that oil should be pretty warm.
My thought was to drill into the opposite ends of a formation, one down 20 or 30 thousand feet down, where it is nice and warm. Pump water from one well to the other and use this extracted heat to generate electricity. If the formation is large (tens of miles), now you have a huge surface area and an enormous fluid medium. Pollution is not a problem because the extracted water is returned to the source. And, the other problem of where to get water is also solved. (some former experiments pumped surface water into porous formations and had the water disappear... Real geologists know that some such formations could swallow the Great Lakes without yielding a bucket full of hot water) The worst down side is you strike oil and/or gas instead of water. (now, wouldn't that be a heart breaker?)
Now remember, friends, when they finally find this is a practical solution to the nation's energy future, you heard it first here... I think.
By Rob Watson
A web search on Geothermal... whatever, usually generated twenty million hits on air conditioners. After going to the advanced search you can eliminate nearly half of them. What I am looking for is real information on using Geothermal heat to generate power.
You, and I, know that wherever you are, if you dig deep enough you find heat. The problem being, if you end up in solid rock and start drawing heat from it, the rock cools off. The eventual recovery rate of energy is equal to the rate of heat transfer into the area from which you are drawing heat, thermal differences, total area of contact, etc. etc. etc.
Having spent a few years in the oil exploration business, I recalled the seismic data reflections from underground formations. Unfortunately without drilling into the formation you could not distinguish oil and gas from water. The up side is there is a huge library of data (my former employer, Geophysical Service Inc. had ancient files in huge libraries.) that tells you where to look for pools of something. Checking the records should tell you where the drillers found oil, gas, and water.
If memory serves, these data plots recorded information for 6 seconds. At 5 miles per second (speed of sound in rock) that could get you down to the hot rocks. This brings up the question of how deep you can drill. My friends in Louisiana report BP has gone one mile through water and an additional 7 miles through rock. If memory of the thermal gradient in the earth is correct, that oil should be pretty warm.
My thought was to drill into the opposite ends of a formation, one down 20 or 30 thousand feet down, where it is nice and warm. Pump water from one well to the other and use this extracted heat to generate electricity. If the formation is large (tens of miles), now you have a huge surface area and an enormous fluid medium. Pollution is not a problem because the extracted water is returned to the source. And, the other problem of where to get water is also solved. (some former experiments pumped surface water into porous formations and had the water disappear... Real geologists know that some such formations could swallow the Great Lakes without yielding a bucket full of hot water) The worst down side is you strike oil and/or gas instead of water. (now, wouldn't that be a heart breaker?)
Now remember, friends, when they finally find this is a practical solution to the nation's energy future, you heard it first here... I think.
Buzz Off, Short Stuff
Buzz Off, Short Stuff
by Rob Watson
Life hardly ever gifts most of us with a clever thing to say, and the courage to say it, at exactly the moment the saying would be appropriate. For myself, I can recall many instances where I stood open mouthed and silent for want of one or the other gift. But then I have also learned that silence in such moments, while far from satisfying, constitutes wisdom. Wisdom, as well as clever sayings and courage in socially awkward situations, is not a usual skill of mine. So, silence can work.
Last night, Wife and I decided on pizza for supper and went to a Pizza Hut. We were seated in a booth with high seat backs. In the booth behind Wife was a tall blond woman and her three or four year old companion. I say companion because the adult showed no parenting inclination or skills what so ever. The child was doing pretty much as he pleased in entertaining himself.
First the child played with the curtain that covered his window and part of ours. sliding it back and forth, leaving our window uncovered and the light streaming in. Then he crawled under his table and cavorted in the isle beside his booth and ours. On the other side, beside his booth, was a stair leading down into the basement dining room. The stair was blocked by two swinging half doors, which seemed to be latched together, The child swung on these doors for the few inches of freedom allowed by that latch. As uncharitable as it is, I found myself wishing the child and the adult would gain a hard lesson when the latch let go and sent the child tumbling into the basement. Alas, the latch, though tested, did not fail.
Last of all, the child climbed onto the seat of his booth and began leaning over just behind Wife. After waiting a minute or so for the adult to get the child out of my wife's ear, I caught the child's eye. Looking directly at him I said "Buzz off short stuff."
Wife, for reasons beyond me, found that enormously funny. However her barely controlled seizure of laughter destroyed my ill humor and I began to laugh as well. It was clear to me, the child knew he had been spoken to, and had no idea what it meant. After a short delay, the adult stood. She seemed to know something had happened involving her companion, but she was unable to grasp the meaning of the continuing mirth on our part. She looked at me for several seconds as I laughed. She looked at Wife for several seconds, who also continued her fit of laughter, collected the child and left, never once having made any attempt to control the child.
This brought up the story of one of my other social "successes".
A few years before Wife and I met, I worked for a large technology company, in their training department. I taught field service personnel and customers how to operate, troubleshoot and repair half a dozen different computers and a few of their peripherals. The department manager was obsessed with controlling the expendature of funds. She was good with smaller numbers. Big numbers, not so much.
Two years prior, I had been charged with entertaining a potential new hire at lunch. We went to a nice restaurant, had steaks and a bottle of wine and spent a total of $25 or so. On getting the expense statement, Manager was not happy. I was sternly lectured on the evils of overspending. We hired the man and he was a great guy and an excellent instructor.
After two years in the doghouse, I was again directed to entertain a potential new hire. As Manager gave me my directions, she was careful to again remind me of the evils of over spending. The supervisor of us hardware instructors heard of my task and took it upon himself, unknown to Manager, to entertain the interviewee and a handful of the other instructors. My cubical mate begged off. I knew he was going to the burger joint next door. I asked him to bring me back his receipt.
The secretarial staff, of a dozen or so, occupied a large open area. As Manager was guiding her boss (a really nice guy) through that area, I stopped her. "Manager" says I, "you will be really proud of me." I handed her the Burger receipt for $1.89. The receipt had the company name boldly printed across the top. Manager examined the receipt for a second before a horrid expression enveloped her face and a horrified "Nooo, Rob, you didn't!!" escaped her mouth. (I had winked at Big Boss to let him know something was afoot) "But, Manager" says I, in a voice feigning surprise and ignorance, "you told me to not over spend." Big Boss seemed to catch onto the joke and smiled. Manager didn't catch on until Supervisor turned in his expense statement for six steak dinners at the nice restaurant.
I was never again asked to entertain a new hire for lunch. If you are over fifty, you will recognize the prices of the late 1970's. One practical joke every forty years or so, can't be too much, can it?
by Rob Watson
Life hardly ever gifts most of us with a clever thing to say, and the courage to say it, at exactly the moment the saying would be appropriate. For myself, I can recall many instances where I stood open mouthed and silent for want of one or the other gift. But then I have also learned that silence in such moments, while far from satisfying, constitutes wisdom. Wisdom, as well as clever sayings and courage in socially awkward situations, is not a usual skill of mine. So, silence can work.
Last night, Wife and I decided on pizza for supper and went to a Pizza Hut. We were seated in a booth with high seat backs. In the booth behind Wife was a tall blond woman and her three or four year old companion. I say companion because the adult showed no parenting inclination or skills what so ever. The child was doing pretty much as he pleased in entertaining himself.
First the child played with the curtain that covered his window and part of ours. sliding it back and forth, leaving our window uncovered and the light streaming in. Then he crawled under his table and cavorted in the isle beside his booth and ours. On the other side, beside his booth, was a stair leading down into the basement dining room. The stair was blocked by two swinging half doors, which seemed to be latched together, The child swung on these doors for the few inches of freedom allowed by that latch. As uncharitable as it is, I found myself wishing the child and the adult would gain a hard lesson when the latch let go and sent the child tumbling into the basement. Alas, the latch, though tested, did not fail.
Last of all, the child climbed onto the seat of his booth and began leaning over just behind Wife. After waiting a minute or so for the adult to get the child out of my wife's ear, I caught the child's eye. Looking directly at him I said "Buzz off short stuff."
Wife, for reasons beyond me, found that enormously funny. However her barely controlled seizure of laughter destroyed my ill humor and I began to laugh as well. It was clear to me, the child knew he had been spoken to, and had no idea what it meant. After a short delay, the adult stood. She seemed to know something had happened involving her companion, but she was unable to grasp the meaning of the continuing mirth on our part. She looked at me for several seconds as I laughed. She looked at Wife for several seconds, who also continued her fit of laughter, collected the child and left, never once having made any attempt to control the child.
This brought up the story of one of my other social "successes".
A few years before Wife and I met, I worked for a large technology company, in their training department. I taught field service personnel and customers how to operate, troubleshoot and repair half a dozen different computers and a few of their peripherals. The department manager was obsessed with controlling the expendature of funds. She was good with smaller numbers. Big numbers, not so much.
Two years prior, I had been charged with entertaining a potential new hire at lunch. We went to a nice restaurant, had steaks and a bottle of wine and spent a total of $25 or so. On getting the expense statement, Manager was not happy. I was sternly lectured on the evils of overspending. We hired the man and he was a great guy and an excellent instructor.
After two years in the doghouse, I was again directed to entertain a potential new hire. As Manager gave me my directions, she was careful to again remind me of the evils of over spending. The supervisor of us hardware instructors heard of my task and took it upon himself, unknown to Manager, to entertain the interviewee and a handful of the other instructors. My cubical mate begged off. I knew he was going to the burger joint next door. I asked him to bring me back his receipt.
The secretarial staff, of a dozen or so, occupied a large open area. As Manager was guiding her boss (a really nice guy) through that area, I stopped her. "Manager" says I, "you will be really proud of me." I handed her the Burger receipt for $1.89. The receipt had the company name boldly printed across the top. Manager examined the receipt for a second before a horrid expression enveloped her face and a horrified "Nooo, Rob, you didn't!!" escaped her mouth. (I had winked at Big Boss to let him know something was afoot) "But, Manager" says I, in a voice feigning surprise and ignorance, "you told me to not over spend." Big Boss seemed to catch onto the joke and smiled. Manager didn't catch on until Supervisor turned in his expense statement for six steak dinners at the nice restaurant.
I was never again asked to entertain a new hire for lunch. If you are over fifty, you will recognize the prices of the late 1970's. One practical joke every forty years or so, can't be too much, can it?
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
A Good Idea
A Good Idea
Rob Watson
Life has a way of trapping us into awkward situations. Looking ahead and good planning can go a long way in reducing these situations. Nothing ever eliminates them. Over time one can build up a tool kit for dealing with them... a joke, a smile, a jesture.
A college professor with a PhD had the nick name "Happy". He preferred to be called that. He was uncomfortable when addressed as "Doctor". People who were not familiar with the good doctor, beyond his title, would call him that on first addressing him. He would stick his finger up his nose as if digging for a booger, then, with finger still in his nose, look at the person and reply "Yeeesssss". Perhaps not the most graceful tool, but it had the desired effect.
At large gatherings, where long lists of presentations and honors are announced, the first guy being awarded "Dog Catcher of the Year". gets a great hand. The 20th person, being awarded "Humanitarian of the Year" gets a smattering of recognition. Applause always seems to dwindle after five or six awards. One MC limited the applause to three claps per person.
Every awards dinner has a built-in awkward moment. Dinner is over. Everyone is chatting with their neighbor, and the host needs to get everyone's attention to move on, Some ding on a glass with a spoon. Some clear their throat into the microphone. Some just start talking. And, of course, the person near you just has to finish his story.
Today, attending an area wide church event, I encountered a pleasant, graceful attention getting device. The new Bishop was about to speak. He began to sing, softly at first, a familiar church hymn. As the people began to catch on, he sang louder. The assembly joined in until everyone was singing. The persistent talkers had to join as well. I could do that myself... should I get to be bishop.
Rob Watson
Life has a way of trapping us into awkward situations. Looking ahead and good planning can go a long way in reducing these situations. Nothing ever eliminates them. Over time one can build up a tool kit for dealing with them... a joke, a smile, a jesture.
A college professor with a PhD had the nick name "Happy". He preferred to be called that. He was uncomfortable when addressed as "Doctor". People who were not familiar with the good doctor, beyond his title, would call him that on first addressing him. He would stick his finger up his nose as if digging for a booger, then, with finger still in his nose, look at the person and reply "Yeeesssss". Perhaps not the most graceful tool, but it had the desired effect.
At large gatherings, where long lists of presentations and honors are announced, the first guy being awarded "Dog Catcher of the Year". gets a great hand. The 20th person, being awarded "Humanitarian of the Year" gets a smattering of recognition. Applause always seems to dwindle after five or six awards. One MC limited the applause to three claps per person.
Every awards dinner has a built-in awkward moment. Dinner is over. Everyone is chatting with their neighbor, and the host needs to get everyone's attention to move on, Some ding on a glass with a spoon. Some clear their throat into the microphone. Some just start talking. And, of course, the person near you just has to finish his story.
Today, attending an area wide church event, I encountered a pleasant, graceful attention getting device. The new Bishop was about to speak. He began to sing, softly at first, a familiar church hymn. As the people began to catch on, he sang louder. The assembly joined in until everyone was singing. The persistent talkers had to join as well. I could do that myself... should I get to be bishop.
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