Air travel has always been a challenge; I dispute those who claim to remember when flying was pleasant or comfortable. Certainly enhanced security procedures have added to queues and time requirements, but there were always uncertainties, delays, and hassles. I recall a delayed Eastern Airlines flight one time. A fellow passenger called Domino’s Pizza delivery and ordered a pizza from his first class seat. The order taker at first objected in case the plane departed before the pizza guy arrived, but the fellow traveller indicated it was Eastern Airlines after all and they never left on time. The pizza guy agreed and 45 minutes later the pizza arrived and was shared with all in first class. Of course, this was before security required boarding passes in the US.
I have flown a lot in my career; one million plus miles on two different airlines, elite status on anything with fixed wings, and enough harrowing experiences to make me appreciate whenever I arrive safely. I remember when Gold Elite was a desired status; now replaced by Platinum, Platinum Plus, Super Platinum ….
I still get nervous when I fly. Recently, for example, I flew to Russia. I grew up during the Cold War, and as I passed through Russian immigration I had visions of improper paperwork (actually I was warned by the Russian Consulate about my documents) would result in a trip to a Siberian gulag. Fortunately, I passed through without incident this time.
For most travellers, the difficulties start with the trip to the airport. What did you forget? Are you going to miss the plane because of bad traffic? Will there be room in the overhead bins for your carry-on luggage? Are you going to be relegated to a centre seat between 2 obese passengers and potentially be suffocated or squashed to death? If you have ever been “pinned” to your minimalist seat between 2 over sized seat mates, being so squeezed is not a happy memory.
Arriving at the airport late is a typical phobia. It does not help that virtually all airports including those with 30+ million passengers typically have only 2 driving lanes accessing the departures area. There must be an airport design manual somewhere that limits access lanes to 2 regardless of traffic volumes. The only sure way to avoid airport traffic in most cities is to go when the planes are not flying; which seems counterproductive. Mondays and Fridays are especially bad.
Inside the airport, the check in process has become very impersonal; the smiling agent has been replaced by a machine with a video screen. I used to plead with the human agent for better seats – bad back, Mother died recently, whatever excuse seemed likely to elicit sympathy. I think the agents kept a few seats available for passengers with the best stories. It is impossible to negotiate with a machine, however.
Airlines do not like luggage. Go to Europe for 2 weeks, and the airlines seem surprised when you bring a few changes of clothes. The cardinal rule of flying is to NEVER CHECK BAGS. When you check a bag, only 2 things can happen: 1) you will wait an extended period of time at baggage claim for your dented, scratched, or damaged suitcase or 2) the airline will lose your bag. There are no good outcomes possible when you check bags.
I once watched a TV documentary on what happens to lost bags in the US. Evidently, they are sent to a warehouse in South Carolina (or maybe it was Georgia) and then sold. The TV reporter went to the warehouse and discovered that many of the bags had name tags. Maybe the machine that routed the bag to the wrong destination did not read so well.
Since checking bags is a bad idea, the only option is to carry them on board. Most airlines have a miniature basket at check in with a sign indicating all carry-ons must fit within the small basket. Everyone ignores this warning; most briefcases and handbags would not fit much less a suitcase. But everyone with carry-ons then feels guilty and at risk of having their bag seized so no one complains about other things; I think it is a plot by the airlines to muzzle dissent similar to totalitarian governments.
Since 9-11, security has become every flier’s nightmare. I think airports must be better at raising capital to buy stuff than paying people to operate what they buy. Most airports seem to have 8-10 metal detectors and screening X-ray equipment, but there are usually only 2 or 3 lines open. Why buy so much stuff if you are not going to use it? My old school in Chicago could probably use the metal detectors if the airports don’t use them.
Maybe if the airports had more money – not sure why they need more money based on the prices in the airport gift shops – but if they do, I have a proposal.
As long as all passengers must be X-rayed, why not offer dental or bone X-rays as passengers pass through security? Have a gimpy knee? Get an X-ray emailed to you from airport security for an additional charge.
Carrying this idea further, security could offer a more powerful MRI line. Have a head ache? Get a brain scan at the airport. This could revolutionize health care and vastly increase preventive medicine while funding more operating security lines at airports.
Another idea to expedite the flow of passengers through security would be to replace human operators with machines. Robots would be purchased at the time the X-ray equipment was purchased. If the robot/machine detected something improper or unacceptable, they could shoot the offending passenger with a type of paint gun, marking the guy for human follow up. I guarantee passengers would be very careful about not breaking any rules or packing suspect goods.
At the very least, security lines should be divided into separate lines. One line would be for potential terrorists and one for non-terrorists. The Boarding Pass would identify what line you are assigned to. Governments already categorize passengers by threat potential based on intelligence and predictive models; why not formalize this and let the non-terrorists pass through more quickly with less scrutiny? Customs facilities often have 2 lines – one for people with nothing to declare and one for guys who are afraid of being caught. The principal is similar.
Security procedures vary greatly in different countries. In Russia, passengers wait outside in the summer heat or winter cold waiting in long lines to be screened. Russia does not want terrorists in the airport common areas.
In India, they often screen outside too but then they have everyone’s papers checked by 9 separate guys. I guess India tries to create jobs by making life difficult for air travellers.
Generally, there are several key universal strategies to move through security more quickly regardless of the airport or country. Let me share a few based on my years of observation.
1. Avoid lines with older people, baby strollers, and women with big handbags or lots of jewellery.
2. Pick lines with men in suits – they have navigated the process before and are experts at moving through lines more quickly. Women seem more contentious and determined to do things correctly even if it takes more time.
3. Avoid young children but look for young adults in line ahead of you. The latter group often wear flip flops instead of shoes and have few material possessions to set off alarms with.
4. If the guy at the monitor has a helper to move passengers and bags along, this rates a “tick.” If he or she is both managing the line and watching the monitor, it could be a long wait.
5. Avoid monitor watchers who look unhappy or irritated.
6. Avoid monitor watchers who look engaged, focused, or contentious.
7. Seek monitor watchers who appear high on drugs or day dreaming.
8. After passing through the metal detectors, locate the guy with the swab who checks for explosives. Always keep another passenger between you and the bomb guy.
To improve your on board flight experience, here are a few additional tips.
1. Always ask for an aisle seat unless you intend to sleep the entire trip (window seats are better for sleeping). If someone obnoxious sits next to you, the aisle offers an escape when airborne. I always think if the plane crashes, guys in aisle seats stand a better chance of a quick exit and survival; but my friends tell me if the plane crashes it does not matter where you are sitting.
2. It is better to be seated near the front but not in the second row. Airlines often put crying babies in the bulkhead first row. Slightly older kids (age 1-3) tend to throw things at passengers in row 2 also.
3. Sitting in the back of the plane near the toilets is not pleasant. If the toilet smell does not disturb, the constant noise of flushing will keep you awake, and the lines of waiting passengers will preclude any privacy. Finally, you will not be allowed to leave the plane until everyone else has vacated. Sitting in the back is the airline’s form of punishment.
4. Never sit next to anyone who checks whether there is an air sick bag in his or her seat pocket.
5. Never sit next to anyone who asks for a seat belt extender. He or she is too fat and will spill over into your already cramped space.
The on board service quality varies by airline. Once I took an Aeroflot jet to Russia. The plane was a new Airbus that looked like any other airline plane of the same model. The flight attendant greeted me and asked if she could take my coat. All good so far. I gave her my raincoat, and she proceeded to wad it up and throw it into an overhead bin. Evidently she was schooled to ask for the coat but must have missed the class on what to do with the coat.
That reminds me of the time my son, Andrew, and I were in a coffee shop in Poland. With Andrew translating, I asked if they had American style brewed coffee. They said “yes.” Then I asked if they had decaffeinated coffee. They said “yes” again. So I requested a cup of coffee, ½ decaf and ½ regular brew. They replied “we don’t have that.”
Food service on airlines is always a challenge. Some airlines still serve meals on domestic flights like Qantas and Continental, and most serve meals on international flights. Most airline domestic flights, however, offer pretzels for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Some airlines even charge extra for food; it is truly a measure of desperation for someone to buy airline food.
Eventually after fighting traffic jams, impersonal check ins, long security lines, narrow seats, cramped leg room, crying babies, and overpriced snacks, passengers usually do arrive at their desired destinations as planned, unless there is a mechanical problem with the plane, bad weather, missed crew assignments, employee union actions, or other malfunction. And if the passenger violated the cardinal rule of air travel and checked luggage, he or she will have the usual 30-60 minute wait at baggage claim assuming the bag was not lost. But we have all learned to accept this process and have even become accustomed to it. At least we are not bound for a Siberian gulag – so things could always be worse.
06 July 2011
08 January 2011
A Perspective on Australian Rugby
I have lived in Australia for more than 2 years compared with decades in the US. I like sports but am more versed in the subtleties of baseball and American football than I am in the nuances of cricket and rugby. Last year I wrote an essay on the unique and unfamiliar game of cricket. I thought it was about time to tackle impressions of Rugby, from an American and less knowledgeable perspective.
There are two schools of rugby played in Australia: “Union” and “League.” I am unsure of why there are two different leagues with different rules and styles; but I do sense that Union followers think League players are a few rungs below criminals on the prestige ladder of life. I understand Union rugby is played in schools, and League rugby is supposedly played in prisons, but this was told to me by a Union supporter.
I did attend a couple of games between the national team of Australia (the Wallabies) and the national team of New Zealand (the All Blacks). The All Blacks usually win, even though the Wallabies coach is from New Zealand. I am not sure why the All Blacks usually win, but I have some possible reasons after attending a few games.
The All Blacks evidently get their name from the fierce Maori warriors from New Zealand who fought off the British. A Wallaby is a midget kangaroo. So the game is staged as warriors vs. short, two legged marsupials.
The All Blacks dress in black and look like they were schooled in the dark side arts. The Aussies dress in green and yellow uniforms, which connote the image more of environmental conservation than combat. So, we also begin the contest as the Ninjas vs. the Greenies.
The All Blacks begin the game with a fierce looking war dance called the Haka, where they hiss, and scream, and stick their tongues out at the Greenies. It represents a fierce Maori islander war dance, and is menacing if you’re not accustomed to the experience.
The Aussies counter with a rendition of the song, Waltzing Matilda, which seems to be a tale about a guy who was dies after doing something with a sheep – I have not asked my Aussie mates for a clearer explanation of the lyrics. This is a little hard to understand the rationale, but I am just a new visitor. I do think the New Zealand team has the advantage in setting the stage for combat.
Both games I attended, the Wallabies played well but lost, which unfortunately seems typical. As I understand it, the All Blacks tend to become too confident after winning so many times, that they lose the world championship every four years when it is held. So maybe the midget kangaroos are just lulling the warrior ninjas into over confidence and are planning the big upset.
I have a couple general observations about rugby (both League and Union). The players are in really good shape. They are constantly running like soccer players but they are also tackling and bashing into people like American football players. Unlike American players, they do not typically use protective equipment; which makes me even more appreciative of their conditioning and toughness.
The other observation is that all the rugby players seem really ugly. I do not know if they were ugly before they played rugby – maybe that condition led them to their aggressiveness – or if playing rugby made them ugly. This is kind of an Australian version of the “what came first, the chicken or the egg” riddle.
The only 2 rugby guys I ever saw that did not look ugly was a retired Wallaby captain named John Eales and the captain of the All Blacks named Dan Carter. Maybe the teams have an agreement not to disfigure the other team’s captain.
I always thought Rugby was a fast game with non-stop running and passing. It appears that the game’s coaches have become more conservative, and the game is evolving into defensive battles with field positioning of paramount importance. It reminds me of good NFL defensive teams that win games by capitalizing on the other team’s mistakes instead of offensively scoring points. It makes for a more boring game, with the victory decided on penalty kicks rather than successful tries (i.e. touchdowns).
There are frequent game stoppages in rugby. They are not planned (like a 2 minute warning in American football); they are the result of many different kinds of penalties and many injury time outs. There are more and varied penalties in rugby. My favorite is “failure to roll away.” Evidently, after a guy gets smashed into the ground dragging down an opponent and gets stepped on with cleats and kicked, he only has seconds to roll out of the way of the offensive player. That is adding insult to injury.
When a player is injured, he is carried off the field and into a room not visible to the fans. Usually, the injured player emerges later and resumes playing. I wondered if they had some kind of bionic laboratory like they do on Startrek; but someone supposedly more knowledgeable than me said they just sew up the guys and send them back. I wonder.
Rugby fans seem more passionate than cricket fans. I suspect it is because both groups of fans consume considerable beer, but the Rugby fans have less time to consume so they drink faster. Cricket fans seem to eat stuff with their beer also, while rugby fans seem less willing (or too cheap) to pollute their beers with condiments.
Rugby is a fun sport to watch if the teams are offensive minded. Like all Aussie sports, it is a good time to have a beer and bond with colleagues and mates. Just don’t try to play rugby (unless you’re already ugly and don’t mind stitches and an occasional bionic repair).
There are two schools of rugby played in Australia: “Union” and “League.” I am unsure of why there are two different leagues with different rules and styles; but I do sense that Union followers think League players are a few rungs below criminals on the prestige ladder of life. I understand Union rugby is played in schools, and League rugby is supposedly played in prisons, but this was told to me by a Union supporter.
I did attend a couple of games between the national team of Australia (the Wallabies) and the national team of New Zealand (the All Blacks). The All Blacks usually win, even though the Wallabies coach is from New Zealand. I am not sure why the All Blacks usually win, but I have some possible reasons after attending a few games.
The All Blacks evidently get their name from the fierce Maori warriors from New Zealand who fought off the British. A Wallaby is a midget kangaroo. So the game is staged as warriors vs. short, two legged marsupials.
The All Blacks dress in black and look like they were schooled in the dark side arts. The Aussies dress in green and yellow uniforms, which connote the image more of environmental conservation than combat. So, we also begin the contest as the Ninjas vs. the Greenies.
The All Blacks begin the game with a fierce looking war dance called the Haka, where they hiss, and scream, and stick their tongues out at the Greenies. It represents a fierce Maori islander war dance, and is menacing if you’re not accustomed to the experience.
The Aussies counter with a rendition of the song, Waltzing Matilda, which seems to be a tale about a guy who was dies after doing something with a sheep – I have not asked my Aussie mates for a clearer explanation of the lyrics. This is a little hard to understand the rationale, but I am just a new visitor. I do think the New Zealand team has the advantage in setting the stage for combat.
Both games I attended, the Wallabies played well but lost, which unfortunately seems typical. As I understand it, the All Blacks tend to become too confident after winning so many times, that they lose the world championship every four years when it is held. So maybe the midget kangaroos are just lulling the warrior ninjas into over confidence and are planning the big upset.
I have a couple general observations about rugby (both League and Union). The players are in really good shape. They are constantly running like soccer players but they are also tackling and bashing into people like American football players. Unlike American players, they do not typically use protective equipment; which makes me even more appreciative of their conditioning and toughness.
The other observation is that all the rugby players seem really ugly. I do not know if they were ugly before they played rugby – maybe that condition led them to their aggressiveness – or if playing rugby made them ugly. This is kind of an Australian version of the “what came first, the chicken or the egg” riddle.
The only 2 rugby guys I ever saw that did not look ugly was a retired Wallaby captain named John Eales and the captain of the All Blacks named Dan Carter. Maybe the teams have an agreement not to disfigure the other team’s captain.
I always thought Rugby was a fast game with non-stop running and passing. It appears that the game’s coaches have become more conservative, and the game is evolving into defensive battles with field positioning of paramount importance. It reminds me of good NFL defensive teams that win games by capitalizing on the other team’s mistakes instead of offensively scoring points. It makes for a more boring game, with the victory decided on penalty kicks rather than successful tries (i.e. touchdowns).
There are frequent game stoppages in rugby. They are not planned (like a 2 minute warning in American football); they are the result of many different kinds of penalties and many injury time outs. There are more and varied penalties in rugby. My favorite is “failure to roll away.” Evidently, after a guy gets smashed into the ground dragging down an opponent and gets stepped on with cleats and kicked, he only has seconds to roll out of the way of the offensive player. That is adding insult to injury.
When a player is injured, he is carried off the field and into a room not visible to the fans. Usually, the injured player emerges later and resumes playing. I wondered if they had some kind of bionic laboratory like they do on Startrek; but someone supposedly more knowledgeable than me said they just sew up the guys and send them back. I wonder.
Rugby fans seem more passionate than cricket fans. I suspect it is because both groups of fans consume considerable beer, but the Rugby fans have less time to consume so they drink faster. Cricket fans seem to eat stuff with their beer also, while rugby fans seem less willing (or too cheap) to pollute their beers with condiments.
Rugby is a fun sport to watch if the teams are offensive minded. Like all Aussie sports, it is a good time to have a beer and bond with colleagues and mates. Just don’t try to play rugby (unless you’re already ugly and don’t mind stitches and an occasional bionic repair).
01 January 2011
Australian Sport: the Tie that Binds
After living in Australia for more than 2 years, I have come to appreciate the seminal role sports play in the Australian psychic. When I lived in the United States, I always thought Philadelphia represented the epitome of sports culture. I was in Philadelphia recently after the NFL Eagles won a come from behind football victory over the archrival NY Giants. I asked someone if local fans were still talking about the recent game; he replied all the radio stations were still replaying the last 5 minutes of the game so the fans could savor the victory over and over. But I think Australia even surpasses Philadelphia in its focus on sports.
Every international culture seems to embrace sporting contests, and this appears to have been the case throughout history. When I visited Mayan ruins in Latin America a few years ago, I was surprised to see courts for a ball game (similar to a team handball evidently) prominently located in these ancient cities. The contest was the highlight of major festivals, according to my guide. Oddly, the winning team was sacrificed to the gods. I assume this was considered a privilege of some kind; otherwise I doubt if the competitors would be playing with sufficient enthusiasm.
The Romans filled the Coliseum with thousands of spectators cheering the gladiator’s fight to death or the carnivorous animals chasing the ultimately disadvantaged peoples, or other competitions. One exit gate was just used to remove dead bodies.
Unlike the Mayans or Romans, the Aussies do not kill winners or losers; it is the 21st century after all. But the Aussies do worship their teams and follow individual players with intense focus. Once I was stranded in the Whitsunday Islands off the coast of Queensland, directly in the path of a Category 5 cyclone (aka hurricane). My colleagues and I huddled around the television watching for news of the approaching monster storm. When the news did come on, the news reader spent most of the time describing the off field escapades of a rugby league player in detail and then mentioned briefly the cyclone was due to hit the islands over night. There are clear news priorities here, and sports behavior trumps cyclones.
I previously thought that the prevalence of sports in US culture was considerable. For example, there is a major NFL football team in most major US cities. In the New York and San Francisco metropolitan areas, there are actually two teams; but Los Angeles still lacks a team. By contrast, the Melbourne, Australia (population 4 million) metro encompasses 10 AFL teams. In Sydney, where league rugby is more popular, there are also 10 professional rugby teams. Where the US major cities have an NFL team, the major neighborhoods within Melbourne and Sydney have their own “footy” teams.
Similar to the US, Australian sports coverage on television is almost non-stop. In Australia, there are at least 12 24-hour exclusive sports stations on cable TV excluding European based channels. In the US, excluding paid per view and subscription channels, I can think of 6 such stations. And the US has 300 million people while Australia has about 22 million. There are more people living in Texas or California or New York than live in Australia. There are global cities with more people than live in Australia, but I feel certain Australia has more sports teams and more TV sports.
There are several seemingly peculiar aspects to Australian sports if you are not a native here. Americans, in particular, will have difficulty understanding or relating.
Firstly, ties are acceptable and often even applauded in Australia. Americans like winners, and games do not end until there is a winner and a loser. By contrast, a test cricket match extends for 5 days and can end in a draw. Imagine watching the same baseball game for 5 days and then being told no one won. Cricket is a bid odd, but the acceptance of ties extends to other sports as well.
In is not unusual for soccer matches to end in a tie. But last year the AFL Grand Final footy game, which is the equivalent to the US Super Bowl, ended in a tie. 100,000 fans descended on Melbourne for the game to decide the 2010 champion. When the regulation time was up and the scores were the same, did they play overtime? No. The game was officially over and the league scheduled a new game to be played the following week. Imagine the NFL telling the fans in Miami or wherever the Super Bowl was played that the game would be replayed and everyone needed to return the following week.
Another factor that surprises me is the names of many of the local teams. In the US, teams are generally named after fierce animals (lions, tigers, panthers, etc.) or peoples known for their combat skills, bravery, or toughness (Indians, Patriots, Steelers). Australian team names include fierce animals too but they also include more benign characters. The only AFL team in Sydney is the “Swans.” The national Rugby League final last year was between the Dragons (okay) and the Roosters. Guess who won? The famous Aussie movie star, Russell Crowe, owns a rugby team called the Rabbitohs (i.e. The rabbits). In the AFL Grand Final, the Magpies (a domestic bird) beat the Saints.
In addition to the AFL (Aus. Rules Football), cricket, rugby (Union and League – two leagues with different rules) and soccer, Australia follows and supports many other sports including tennis (the Australian Open is one of the big 4 Grand Slam tournaments), golf (several PGA leaders are from Australia), sailing (remember America’s Cup 1987), car racing, motor bike racing, kayaking, volleyball, basketball, and some unique sports such as net ball.
Australia is also very focused on horse racing. The biggest race, the Melbourne Cup, is held in November each year on a Tuesday. It is a holiday in the state of Victoria; elsewhere business stops at noon so the employees can bet and watch the race. It is the only day each year; certain kinds of bets are legally permitted in pubs. The Melbourne Cup is somewhat like the Kentucky Derby in the US, although the Derby is held on a Saturday and the viewing audience does not include virtually every person in the country.
When I first arrived in Australia in 2008, I sought to meet the major Australian based investors as soon as possible. During my second week in country, I had meetings with representatives of several major investment funds based in Melbourne. One fund manager looked at me and said, “Welcome to Australia. My only advice is do not support Collingswood.” After I left the meeting. I turned to my colleague, Ian, and asked, “What the hell is Collingswood?” “No worries,” he relied. “It’s an AFL team near Melbourne.”
The preoccupation with sports is not limited to investment managers, however. When I visited the remote Tiwi Islands off the coast of Darwin, I asked a local villager what religion was most prevalent among these seemingly isolated natives. He replied, “two religions – Catholic and AFL football.”
So I have learned to live in Australia is to live in a sports focused society. If you’re a new arrival here, please consider my advice for adapting to your new environs:
1. Do not become upset if your game goes for days without a winner or loser.
2. Don’t even try to understand all the laws of cricket – no one does.
3. Drink lots of beer – it makes the time pass more quickly and eliminates inhibitions to meeting new people.
4. Don’t make fun of the team’s names, and
5. Don’t support Collingwood.
If you follow these simple rules, you should be ‘right.‘
Every international culture seems to embrace sporting contests, and this appears to have been the case throughout history. When I visited Mayan ruins in Latin America a few years ago, I was surprised to see courts for a ball game (similar to a team handball evidently) prominently located in these ancient cities. The contest was the highlight of major festivals, according to my guide. Oddly, the winning team was sacrificed to the gods. I assume this was considered a privilege of some kind; otherwise I doubt if the competitors would be playing with sufficient enthusiasm.
The Romans filled the Coliseum with thousands of spectators cheering the gladiator’s fight to death or the carnivorous animals chasing the ultimately disadvantaged peoples, or other competitions. One exit gate was just used to remove dead bodies.
Unlike the Mayans or Romans, the Aussies do not kill winners or losers; it is the 21st century after all. But the Aussies do worship their teams and follow individual players with intense focus. Once I was stranded in the Whitsunday Islands off the coast of Queensland, directly in the path of a Category 5 cyclone (aka hurricane). My colleagues and I huddled around the television watching for news of the approaching monster storm. When the news did come on, the news reader spent most of the time describing the off field escapades of a rugby league player in detail and then mentioned briefly the cyclone was due to hit the islands over night. There are clear news priorities here, and sports behavior trumps cyclones.
I previously thought that the prevalence of sports in US culture was considerable. For example, there is a major NFL football team in most major US cities. In the New York and San Francisco metropolitan areas, there are actually two teams; but Los Angeles still lacks a team. By contrast, the Melbourne, Australia (population 4 million) metro encompasses 10 AFL teams. In Sydney, where league rugby is more popular, there are also 10 professional rugby teams. Where the US major cities have an NFL team, the major neighborhoods within Melbourne and Sydney have their own “footy” teams.
Similar to the US, Australian sports coverage on television is almost non-stop. In Australia, there are at least 12 24-hour exclusive sports stations on cable TV excluding European based channels. In the US, excluding paid per view and subscription channels, I can think of 6 such stations. And the US has 300 million people while Australia has about 22 million. There are more people living in Texas or California or New York than live in Australia. There are global cities with more people than live in Australia, but I feel certain Australia has more sports teams and more TV sports.
There are several seemingly peculiar aspects to Australian sports if you are not a native here. Americans, in particular, will have difficulty understanding or relating.
Firstly, ties are acceptable and often even applauded in Australia. Americans like winners, and games do not end until there is a winner and a loser. By contrast, a test cricket match extends for 5 days and can end in a draw. Imagine watching the same baseball game for 5 days and then being told no one won. Cricket is a bid odd, but the acceptance of ties extends to other sports as well.
In is not unusual for soccer matches to end in a tie. But last year the AFL Grand Final footy game, which is the equivalent to the US Super Bowl, ended in a tie. 100,000 fans descended on Melbourne for the game to decide the 2010 champion. When the regulation time was up and the scores were the same, did they play overtime? No. The game was officially over and the league scheduled a new game to be played the following week. Imagine the NFL telling the fans in Miami or wherever the Super Bowl was played that the game would be replayed and everyone needed to return the following week.
Another factor that surprises me is the names of many of the local teams. In the US, teams are generally named after fierce animals (lions, tigers, panthers, etc.) or peoples known for their combat skills, bravery, or toughness (Indians, Patriots, Steelers). Australian team names include fierce animals too but they also include more benign characters. The only AFL team in Sydney is the “Swans.” The national Rugby League final last year was between the Dragons (okay) and the Roosters. Guess who won? The famous Aussie movie star, Russell Crowe, owns a rugby team called the Rabbitohs (i.e. The rabbits). In the AFL Grand Final, the Magpies (a domestic bird) beat the Saints.
In addition to the AFL (Aus. Rules Football), cricket, rugby (Union and League – two leagues with different rules) and soccer, Australia follows and supports many other sports including tennis (the Australian Open is one of the big 4 Grand Slam tournaments), golf (several PGA leaders are from Australia), sailing (remember America’s Cup 1987), car racing, motor bike racing, kayaking, volleyball, basketball, and some unique sports such as net ball.
Australia is also very focused on horse racing. The biggest race, the Melbourne Cup, is held in November each year on a Tuesday. It is a holiday in the state of Victoria; elsewhere business stops at noon so the employees can bet and watch the race. It is the only day each year; certain kinds of bets are legally permitted in pubs. The Melbourne Cup is somewhat like the Kentucky Derby in the US, although the Derby is held on a Saturday and the viewing audience does not include virtually every person in the country.
When I first arrived in Australia in 2008, I sought to meet the major Australian based investors as soon as possible. During my second week in country, I had meetings with representatives of several major investment funds based in Melbourne. One fund manager looked at me and said, “Welcome to Australia. My only advice is do not support Collingswood.” After I left the meeting. I turned to my colleague, Ian, and asked, “What the hell is Collingswood?” “No worries,” he relied. “It’s an AFL team near Melbourne.”
The preoccupation with sports is not limited to investment managers, however. When I visited the remote Tiwi Islands off the coast of Darwin, I asked a local villager what religion was most prevalent among these seemingly isolated natives. He replied, “two religions – Catholic and AFL football.”
So I have learned to live in Australia is to live in a sports focused society. If you’re a new arrival here, please consider my advice for adapting to your new environs:
1. Do not become upset if your game goes for days without a winner or loser.
2. Don’t even try to understand all the laws of cricket – no one does.
3. Drink lots of beer – it makes the time pass more quickly and eliminates inhibitions to meeting new people.
4. Don’t make fun of the team’s names, and
5. Don’t support Collingwood.
If you follow these simple rules, you should be ‘right.‘
05 December 2010
Favorite Sayings
My grandmother (Mother’s mother) had a never ending list of sayings and quotations which seem to cover every situation. A few of her sayings and other common sayings I have learned along the path of life and have found useful are listed below.
Working
• The early bird gets the worm.
• A bird in hand is worth two in the bush or
• A bird in hand is worth a couple dozen in the bush.
• A job worth doing is worth doing well.
• A poor workman blames his tools.
• Grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.
• Be nice to those you pass climbing the latter of success; you will pass the same people when you are on the way back down.
Family and Personal
• Today is the first day of the rest of your life.
• As the twig is bent, the tree will grow.
• The acorn never falls far from the tree.
• Birds of a feather flock together.
• Blood is thicker than water.
• Do onto others as you would have them do onto you.
• It is better to give than to receive.
• Be careful what you wish for, you may get it.
General
• Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.
• If you are not part of the solution, you are part of the problem.
• It is always darkest just before the dawn.
• The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
• A chain is as strong as its weakest link.
• An empty can makes the most noise.
• Actions speak louder than words.
• Loose lips sink ships.
• If life gives you lemons, make lemonade.
• Behind every cloud is a silver lining.
• The difference between men and boys is the cost of their toys.
• Give a monkey a typewriter, and you will get a word now and then.
• Pigs get fed; hogs get slaughtered.
• A penny saved is a penny earned.
• Let sleeping dogs lie.
• Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.
Working
• The early bird gets the worm.
• A bird in hand is worth two in the bush or
• A bird in hand is worth a couple dozen in the bush.
• A job worth doing is worth doing well.
• A poor workman blames his tools.
• Grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.
• Be nice to those you pass climbing the latter of success; you will pass the same people when you are on the way back down.
Family and Personal
• Today is the first day of the rest of your life.
• As the twig is bent, the tree will grow.
• The acorn never falls far from the tree.
• Birds of a feather flock together.
• Blood is thicker than water.
• Do onto others as you would have them do onto you.
• It is better to give than to receive.
• Be careful what you wish for, you may get it.
General
• Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.
• If you are not part of the solution, you are part of the problem.
• It is always darkest just before the dawn.
• The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
• A chain is as strong as its weakest link.
• An empty can makes the most noise.
• Actions speak louder than words.
• Loose lips sink ships.
• If life gives you lemons, make lemonade.
• Behind every cloud is a silver lining.
• The difference between men and boys is the cost of their toys.
• Give a monkey a typewriter, and you will get a word now and then.
• Pigs get fed; hogs get slaughtered.
• A penny saved is a penny earned.
• Let sleeping dogs lie.
• Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.
04 October 2010
Dating Again
I have been married and faithful to my wife for 30 years so becoming single at the ripe age (never say ‘old’) of 60+ is something unanticipated and unplanned. I am still walking a strange path through the dating jungle, but can offer some early observations, especially with regard to Internet Dating at my age.
I was on the local newspaper’s web site when I noticed a big ad for Australia’s biggest dating service with a link to their website. It turns out the newspaper owns the dating service, which is probably more profitable than selling the news. One click, a few quick forms, and Bingo – my profile is available to the world.
It did not take long for the exploratory introductions (called ‘kisses’) began to arrive. In a typical week, about 30 unsolicited kisses show up in the special mailbox. It is impossible to hold a job and respond informatively to every inquiry. So here are a few rules I have developed to screen the volume of inquiries.
1. Decline all inquiries from anyone who looks really attractive or really young. At my age, no one looks that beautiful and I know they are not young so the pictures obviously lie.
2. Decline all inquiries from anyone who looks really unattractive or really old. It’s not their look that kills it; it is the fact they are too stupid to realize how unappealing their pictures are.
3. People who refuse to show a picture must have a reason.
4. Avoid anyone who claims “some college or university.” This means they drove by a school on their way to work in the beauty salon.
5. Someone who claims ‘degree’ may have a university degree or a degree in word processing. “Post graduate” is safer but not completely secure.
6. Avoid anyone who is working in some industry and lists their role only as “professional.” I talked to a woman in the publishing industry – with 17 years experience! Maybe she can advise me on publishing my book? Turns out she is a secretary in the marketing department for the publisher of crossword puzzles.
7. Assume the real age is 3-5 years older than the listed age. Either everyone’s memory is failing and they can no longer count or they are hoping to rediscover youth.
8. Cut anyone who is looking for a partner that lives within 500 kilometers of a city; this person is desperate.
If you receive an email where they actually have to write something instead of check the box to send a pre-written comment, look out for the following.
9. The dating service does not offer Spell Check. When every word that exceeds 2 syllables is misspelled, it is probably a good indication the sender is not too smart.
10. When someone takes the time to ‘buy’ an email stamp, it usually results in a few paragraphs of prose. The 1-2 sentence request for contact is not impressive. Either they have nothing to say or are engaged in mass mailing inquiries.
Let me share some actual experiences, changing the names to protect the guilty.
****
I am contacted by ‘Anne.’ Her picture shows a younger, very attractive woman; her profile indicates Post Graduate Degree / Professional / Business Owner. Sounds great! I am excited.
We exchange emails; she is very articulate. No misspelled words. She is a psycho therapist; my ex wife always told me I should look for a therapist!
We talk on the phone and she gives me advice on how to avoid the problems of Internet dating. She seems nice and concerned about my welfare. We agree to meet for lunch. This is looking promising. Maybe being single is not so bad.
I arrive early and wait outside on a beautiful sunny day. My mobile phone rings; it is Anne. “I am at the gate in front, where are you?”
I look around but do not see her. The only one at the gate is an older lady, who is very fat …. and has a mobile phone to her ear.
****
I am contacted by Bonnie. She is very attractive and is from Holland. I have worked in Holland and came to admire the tall, handsome women there. At my New Year’s Eve party last year, several Dutch women came as friends of a friend – I know there is a Dutch community here and the women are attractive. It must be my lucky day.
We exchange emails. She writes well and has an acerbic wit which makes me chuckle. She is insistent that my picture is recent and my profile is correct – this is a good sign.
We talk on the phone and I immediately detect her Dutch accent. She seems genuine. We agree to meet for breakfast. This looks promising.
I am stuck in traffic and I text that I will be a few minutes late; she responds she is already at the restaurant.
I arrive 5 minutes late walking quickly and arrive almost out of breath. I look around but do not see Bonnie to my surprise. Maybe she is in the bathroom? Then I notice an old woman with a slight resemblance to Bonnie. I wonder if it could be Bonnie’s mother?
****
No more lunches or breakfasts; the pain lingers too long. The new routine is a cup of coffee or a glass of wine. The coffee can be consumed quickly and the escape plan implemented. The wine works too; drink it quickly and order a second glass – it dulls the senses.
****
I received the following email from a professional, degreed woman who owns her own business.
“I am sure that your accrewed knowlege is a breathe of fresh air here. I have just had a wonderfully busy past weekend travelling to Jamberoo with my work which is breathtakingly exquisite with its undulating pains and green pastures and just a hop skip amd jump is nearby Kiama a beautiful beach resort-then went on to Coldale another beachside small town.”
I do not know what her business is but am pretty sure it does not involve writing anything.
****
I receive contact from Candy, who has a cute picture, a degree, and owns a business. I meet her for a light dinner. Not sure where the degree is from; she seems a bit vague. She was a partner in a singles event service but her partner ran off with the business; not sure how you run off with a singles business, but what do I know.
During a lull in the conversation, she asks “so what do you do?” “I am the CEO of a property company here.” “What’s a CEO? Is it like an accountant or something?”
She is delightful but her degree must be from 8th grade primary school. Live and learn.
****
Most guys I know are motivated in part (actually in large part) by sex. After my divorce, I expected my sex life to improve compared to recent years of marriage. I was surprised how available sex was after divorce but even more surprised how unfulfilling it was when decoupled from a deeper emotional attachment.
I wonder how the suicide bombers who expect 21 virgins waiting for them in paradise would feel if they were told there was a reason the women were still virgins and were likely to remain virgins long after the bombing. My guess is there would be fewer bombings. Maybe the CIA should propagate such rumors.
****
Despite the false starts and unexpected twists in my journey, I have met some really nice women and have enjoyed serious relationships and good friendships. And I remain ever optimistic about the future but wonder if there is not a better way to meet people.
I was on the local newspaper’s web site when I noticed a big ad for Australia’s biggest dating service with a link to their website. It turns out the newspaper owns the dating service, which is probably more profitable than selling the news. One click, a few quick forms, and Bingo – my profile is available to the world.
It did not take long for the exploratory introductions (called ‘kisses’) began to arrive. In a typical week, about 30 unsolicited kisses show up in the special mailbox. It is impossible to hold a job and respond informatively to every inquiry. So here are a few rules I have developed to screen the volume of inquiries.
1. Decline all inquiries from anyone who looks really attractive or really young. At my age, no one looks that beautiful and I know they are not young so the pictures obviously lie.
2. Decline all inquiries from anyone who looks really unattractive or really old. It’s not their look that kills it; it is the fact they are too stupid to realize how unappealing their pictures are.
3. People who refuse to show a picture must have a reason.
4. Avoid anyone who claims “some college or university.” This means they drove by a school on their way to work in the beauty salon.
5. Someone who claims ‘degree’ may have a university degree or a degree in word processing. “Post graduate” is safer but not completely secure.
6. Avoid anyone who is working in some industry and lists their role only as “professional.” I talked to a woman in the publishing industry – with 17 years experience! Maybe she can advise me on publishing my book? Turns out she is a secretary in the marketing department for the publisher of crossword puzzles.
7. Assume the real age is 3-5 years older than the listed age. Either everyone’s memory is failing and they can no longer count or they are hoping to rediscover youth.
8. Cut anyone who is looking for a partner that lives within 500 kilometers of a city; this person is desperate.
If you receive an email where they actually have to write something instead of check the box to send a pre-written comment, look out for the following.
9. The dating service does not offer Spell Check. When every word that exceeds 2 syllables is misspelled, it is probably a good indication the sender is not too smart.
10. When someone takes the time to ‘buy’ an email stamp, it usually results in a few paragraphs of prose. The 1-2 sentence request for contact is not impressive. Either they have nothing to say or are engaged in mass mailing inquiries.
Let me share some actual experiences, changing the names to protect the guilty.
****
I am contacted by ‘Anne.’ Her picture shows a younger, very attractive woman; her profile indicates Post Graduate Degree / Professional / Business Owner. Sounds great! I am excited.
We exchange emails; she is very articulate. No misspelled words. She is a psycho therapist; my ex wife always told me I should look for a therapist!
We talk on the phone and she gives me advice on how to avoid the problems of Internet dating. She seems nice and concerned about my welfare. We agree to meet for lunch. This is looking promising. Maybe being single is not so bad.
I arrive early and wait outside on a beautiful sunny day. My mobile phone rings; it is Anne. “I am at the gate in front, where are you?”
I look around but do not see her. The only one at the gate is an older lady, who is very fat …. and has a mobile phone to her ear.
****
I am contacted by Bonnie. She is very attractive and is from Holland. I have worked in Holland and came to admire the tall, handsome women there. At my New Year’s Eve party last year, several Dutch women came as friends of a friend – I know there is a Dutch community here and the women are attractive. It must be my lucky day.
We exchange emails. She writes well and has an acerbic wit which makes me chuckle. She is insistent that my picture is recent and my profile is correct – this is a good sign.
We talk on the phone and I immediately detect her Dutch accent. She seems genuine. We agree to meet for breakfast. This looks promising.
I am stuck in traffic and I text that I will be a few minutes late; she responds she is already at the restaurant.
I arrive 5 minutes late walking quickly and arrive almost out of breath. I look around but do not see Bonnie to my surprise. Maybe she is in the bathroom? Then I notice an old woman with a slight resemblance to Bonnie. I wonder if it could be Bonnie’s mother?
****
No more lunches or breakfasts; the pain lingers too long. The new routine is a cup of coffee or a glass of wine. The coffee can be consumed quickly and the escape plan implemented. The wine works too; drink it quickly and order a second glass – it dulls the senses.
****
I received the following email from a professional, degreed woman who owns her own business.
“I am sure that your accrewed knowlege is a breathe of fresh air here. I have just had a wonderfully busy past weekend travelling to Jamberoo with my work which is breathtakingly exquisite with its undulating pains and green pastures and just a hop skip amd jump is nearby Kiama a beautiful beach resort-then went on to Coldale another beachside small town.”
I do not know what her business is but am pretty sure it does not involve writing anything.
****
I receive contact from Candy, who has a cute picture, a degree, and owns a business. I meet her for a light dinner. Not sure where the degree is from; she seems a bit vague. She was a partner in a singles event service but her partner ran off with the business; not sure how you run off with a singles business, but what do I know.
During a lull in the conversation, she asks “so what do you do?” “I am the CEO of a property company here.” “What’s a CEO? Is it like an accountant or something?”
She is delightful but her degree must be from 8th grade primary school. Live and learn.
****
Most guys I know are motivated in part (actually in large part) by sex. After my divorce, I expected my sex life to improve compared to recent years of marriage. I was surprised how available sex was after divorce but even more surprised how unfulfilling it was when decoupled from a deeper emotional attachment.
I wonder how the suicide bombers who expect 21 virgins waiting for them in paradise would feel if they were told there was a reason the women were still virgins and were likely to remain virgins long after the bombing. My guess is there would be fewer bombings. Maybe the CIA should propagate such rumors.
****
Despite the false starts and unexpected twists in my journey, I have met some really nice women and have enjoyed serious relationships and good friendships. And I remain ever optimistic about the future but wonder if there is not a better way to meet people.
26 September 2010
A Soap Story
This week I achieved perfection for the first time. It was an amazing feeling to accomplish something so difficult after so many years of effort.
For someone who grew up in a cost conscious environment with parents’ attitudes shaped by The Great Depression, it was the ultimate achievement. For believers in “A penny saved is a penny earned,” it was winning the lottery. And for those of us who were lectured to ‘clean our plates’ at dinner because of the starving children in Indian and China, it was a moment of celebration.
For someone who worships efficiency, it was the Holy Grail. If you believe in environmental conservation, it was the ultimate “green” moment.
First, I should provide some context.
For my entire life, I have used bars of soap to clean myself. As a baby, my mother used soap in my baths. As an adult, I continue to prefer bars of soap when showering or bathing.
I feel very much in the minority in this regard, however. My sons use bath/shower gel; my ex girlfriend used a particular and expensive gel; my gym only provides gel (the bulk variety with a heavy dose of artificial scent). When I stay in hotels, they often provide miniature soap bars but multiple bottles of bath and shower gel. The consumers appear to have turned to gel and abandoned soap bars.
I am not sure why this has happened. To me, gel is like shampoo. I shampoo my hair but why would I want to shampoo my body? Years ago, I regularly shampooed the family dog; but he had fur. He also did not appreciate it and went into escape mode whenever I approached with the shampoo and a bucket of water. I tried to shampoo the family cat one time; it took weeks for the claw marks on my hands and arms to heal.
I prefer plain soap. Most soaps have many added ingredients. Some make you smell like strawberries or other ‘pleasant’ scents. I do really not want to smell like a strawberry. A friend gave me a present that included a few soaps. One makes you smell like cucumbers. I don’t want to smell like a cucumber either.
Only mad scientists can understand other listed ingredients in soap. One of the gift bars has ingredients like hydrogenated rice bran – sounds like I should be eating this instead of washing with it. Other inclusions are: coconut stearic acid, glycerine, sodium hydroxide, zinc oxide, citric acid, and perfume. What happened to plain soap?
After an extensive search, I found a relatively plain soap. The actual brand is called ‘Simple Soap.’ I just do not understand why simple soap costs more than complicated soap. Maybe they put all the ingredients in the soap and then take them out. It is confusing.
The increasing consumer preference for gel may make my accomplishment increasingly rare in society. Maybe it will stand as an eternal record.
Perhaps, I overstate the importance of my feat. It is not a miracle. An image of the Virgin Mary did not appear in my soap bar. My soap did not wash away poverty or feed anyone. I still tend to sink when I swim too many laps at the local pool. The accomplishment is much more modest; it is just remarkable to me within the narrow confines of my daily experience.
Everyone who uses bars of soap understands that the bar slowly decreases in size as it is used. Eventually, the remaining piece of soap becomes too small to use practically and is discarded. The challenge for all of us soap bar users is when to discard the diminishing residual bar.
Soap does not cost much money, especially, if you buy the perfumed variety. So continuing to use the ever-vanishing bar is not just a money saving technique. It is more about being efficient and not wasteful. Perhaps, it is a moral statement committing to use environmental resources wisely. Or maybe it is the legacy of the Great Depression, or maybe something else. Regardless, the challenge of washing with a residual fragment of soap is, for me and fellow bar washers, a common occurrence.
Eventually, I discard the residual soap fragment and start over with a new, full sized bar. Sometimes, I drop the fragment on the floor of the shower and it disappears down the drain. Occasionally, I will toss the fragment in the toilet; that requires walking from the shower carrying wet soap and then rinsing my hands of the offending soap. It is usually easier just to leave the soap in the soap dish and let the fragments just accumulate; after a year or two all are discarded when I throw out the disgusting soap dish.
But today the “miracle” happened. I used a bar of soap until it was no more. 100% used; no soap fragment remained to be discarded. I looked in disbelief at my hands as I stood in the shower that morning. I looked at the shower floor; I looked at my body to see if a fragment had latched on to a leg or arm. The bar of soap had completely dissolved with no trace remaining as I finished my shower. I had achieved perfect efficiency with no waste. The starving children in India and China will be pleased.
For someone who grew up in a cost conscious environment with parents’ attitudes shaped by The Great Depression, it was the ultimate achievement. For believers in “A penny saved is a penny earned,” it was winning the lottery. And for those of us who were lectured to ‘clean our plates’ at dinner because of the starving children in Indian and China, it was a moment of celebration.
For someone who worships efficiency, it was the Holy Grail. If you believe in environmental conservation, it was the ultimate “green” moment.
First, I should provide some context.
For my entire life, I have used bars of soap to clean myself. As a baby, my mother used soap in my baths. As an adult, I continue to prefer bars of soap when showering or bathing.
I feel very much in the minority in this regard, however. My sons use bath/shower gel; my ex girlfriend used a particular and expensive gel; my gym only provides gel (the bulk variety with a heavy dose of artificial scent). When I stay in hotels, they often provide miniature soap bars but multiple bottles of bath and shower gel. The consumers appear to have turned to gel and abandoned soap bars.
I am not sure why this has happened. To me, gel is like shampoo. I shampoo my hair but why would I want to shampoo my body? Years ago, I regularly shampooed the family dog; but he had fur. He also did not appreciate it and went into escape mode whenever I approached with the shampoo and a bucket of water. I tried to shampoo the family cat one time; it took weeks for the claw marks on my hands and arms to heal.
I prefer plain soap. Most soaps have many added ingredients. Some make you smell like strawberries or other ‘pleasant’ scents. I do really not want to smell like a strawberry. A friend gave me a present that included a few soaps. One makes you smell like cucumbers. I don’t want to smell like a cucumber either.
Only mad scientists can understand other listed ingredients in soap. One of the gift bars has ingredients like hydrogenated rice bran – sounds like I should be eating this instead of washing with it. Other inclusions are: coconut stearic acid, glycerine, sodium hydroxide, zinc oxide, citric acid, and perfume. What happened to plain soap?
After an extensive search, I found a relatively plain soap. The actual brand is called ‘Simple Soap.’ I just do not understand why simple soap costs more than complicated soap. Maybe they put all the ingredients in the soap and then take them out. It is confusing.
The increasing consumer preference for gel may make my accomplishment increasingly rare in society. Maybe it will stand as an eternal record.
Perhaps, I overstate the importance of my feat. It is not a miracle. An image of the Virgin Mary did not appear in my soap bar. My soap did not wash away poverty or feed anyone. I still tend to sink when I swim too many laps at the local pool. The accomplishment is much more modest; it is just remarkable to me within the narrow confines of my daily experience.
Everyone who uses bars of soap understands that the bar slowly decreases in size as it is used. Eventually, the remaining piece of soap becomes too small to use practically and is discarded. The challenge for all of us soap bar users is when to discard the diminishing residual bar.
Soap does not cost much money, especially, if you buy the perfumed variety. So continuing to use the ever-vanishing bar is not just a money saving technique. It is more about being efficient and not wasteful. Perhaps, it is a moral statement committing to use environmental resources wisely. Or maybe it is the legacy of the Great Depression, or maybe something else. Regardless, the challenge of washing with a residual fragment of soap is, for me and fellow bar washers, a common occurrence.
Eventually, I discard the residual soap fragment and start over with a new, full sized bar. Sometimes, I drop the fragment on the floor of the shower and it disappears down the drain. Occasionally, I will toss the fragment in the toilet; that requires walking from the shower carrying wet soap and then rinsing my hands of the offending soap. It is usually easier just to leave the soap in the soap dish and let the fragments just accumulate; after a year or two all are discarded when I throw out the disgusting soap dish.
But today the “miracle” happened. I used a bar of soap until it was no more. 100% used; no soap fragment remained to be discarded. I looked in disbelief at my hands as I stood in the shower that morning. I looked at the shower floor; I looked at my body to see if a fragment had latched on to a leg or arm. The bar of soap had completely dissolved with no trace remaining as I finished my shower. I had achieved perfect efficiency with no waste. The starving children in India and China will be pleased.
04 September 2010
Emails Forever
I receive a couple hundred emails a day. I cannot ignore them; I cannot escape them; I cannot hide from them. Sure I can leave an automated response that I am in Siberia, but they will just keep coming and piling up like winter snow in my birth city of Chicago.
I appreciate the instant communication emails provide. Just this week I received an email from my sister-in-law in the US that my brother was hospitalized and I was able to call him when I awoke in the morning. Emails make me much more productive at work and allow me to keep in touch with the relatives back home. But emails do have drawbacks and consume incredible amounts of time; I have this periodic desire to escape the electronic reach of my blackberries..
I have a trip planned to Darwin soon and thought I would take a day and go bushwalking in a remote area of the Northern Territory. Surely, there is no email reception there (actually I have been to Siberia and there is email there). Alternatively, a colleague told me I should take a 4-wheel drive trip through the Kimberley where there is no email or mobile phone reception.
But that would mean I would have a couple thousand emails waiting for me when I emerged from the wilderness. Emails do not expire like the biodegradable bags that are popular today but are useless in holding heavier groceries – they seem to degrade before I arrive home.
I have 7 email accounts, which eagerly fill up every day with various missives. Why so many? Well, I have an email address at work (that is one). Then I have my email address for my consulting firm which is inactive but registered with various government agencies and investment companies (that is #2). I have a personal email account from the US (#3), and when I moved to Australia Telstra gave me an email account when I signed up for Internet service (#4). Only I did not like the Telstra email name and they would not let me change it (I know because I talked to about 15 guys in India and finally gave up), so I added another Telstra email name that I can actually remember (#5). And then there is my old AOL email address (#6) I had for years before my ex wife took the email account with her as part of the divorce. Then she found out she could not change the email address of record with AOL (they must have a relationship with Telstra), so she has to keep my old account active as long as she wants to use her account. I still receive occasional emails from old acquaintances that do not have any of my other 6 account addresses. Finally, my blackberry comes with its own email address (#7). Now if I could only remember the passwords.
To keep track of my emails, I need 2 blackberries. One is for work and the other consolidates the other 6 personal accounts. Now if I could only remember the blackberry passwords too.
I always respond to personal emails; it is important to me to acknowledge when someone takes the time to send me a note. I do not respond to junk mail or the letters from Nigeria informing me they are holding $100 million for me but they are having trouble sending it to me. But I do respond to other copious emails each day.
The other day I sent an email to a woman with a request to meet for coffee. She, like me, responds to emails even if she is not interested. So she sends me a nice email declining the invitation due to a conflict. Since I respond to all personal emails, I sent her an email thanking her for responding. Since she feels compelled to respond to emails too, she sent me a note thanking me for responding to her response. I am getting ready to respond to her response to my response.
This could be a good story. Two people who have nothing in common other than they both feel it is proper and courteous to respond to letters and emails are caught in eternal email ping-pong. At first, they were irritated to respond so often to spurious emails, but eventually they came to look forward to the routine and familiar comfort from regular contact. After 25 years, the emails ceased. The system of email had been replaced by thought mail – you think something and the thought is transmitted. Unfortunately, he could not adjust and his attempts and sending thoughts often went awry. So he finally gave up, and the emails ceased. But they were fun and comforting for years.
Back to reality. I am uncertain what to do with the deluge of emails. I am reminded of a former US Senator who replied to various constituent letters by saying, “Dear sir, I thought you should know that an idiot has been sending me correspondence and using your good name.” Unfortunately, I would still need to read all the emails before I could identify the undesired senders. so this does not work either.
For junk mail and marketing solicitations, I used to “unsubscribe” to the sender’s list. I have since learned that this action only serves to confirm you have a legitimate email address that now can be sold to other mass mailing services, resulting in a quantum increase in emails received.
Until I figure out a better solution, I will just keep responding to personal emails and ignoring emails from marketing services, get rich schemes, banks where I do not have accounts, and assorted other nuisances. But it is nice to know my brother is fine and the guy in Africa is still holding my $100 million.
I appreciate the instant communication emails provide. Just this week I received an email from my sister-in-law in the US that my brother was hospitalized and I was able to call him when I awoke in the morning. Emails make me much more productive at work and allow me to keep in touch with the relatives back home. But emails do have drawbacks and consume incredible amounts of time; I have this periodic desire to escape the electronic reach of my blackberries..
I have a trip planned to Darwin soon and thought I would take a day and go bushwalking in a remote area of the Northern Territory. Surely, there is no email reception there (actually I have been to Siberia and there is email there). Alternatively, a colleague told me I should take a 4-wheel drive trip through the Kimberley where there is no email or mobile phone reception.
But that would mean I would have a couple thousand emails waiting for me when I emerged from the wilderness. Emails do not expire like the biodegradable bags that are popular today but are useless in holding heavier groceries – they seem to degrade before I arrive home.
I have 7 email accounts, which eagerly fill up every day with various missives. Why so many? Well, I have an email address at work (that is one). Then I have my email address for my consulting firm which is inactive but registered with various government agencies and investment companies (that is #2). I have a personal email account from the US (#3), and when I moved to Australia Telstra gave me an email account when I signed up for Internet service (#4). Only I did not like the Telstra email name and they would not let me change it (I know because I talked to about 15 guys in India and finally gave up), so I added another Telstra email name that I can actually remember (#5). And then there is my old AOL email address (#6) I had for years before my ex wife took the email account with her as part of the divorce. Then she found out she could not change the email address of record with AOL (they must have a relationship with Telstra), so she has to keep my old account active as long as she wants to use her account. I still receive occasional emails from old acquaintances that do not have any of my other 6 account addresses. Finally, my blackberry comes with its own email address (#7). Now if I could only remember the passwords.
To keep track of my emails, I need 2 blackberries. One is for work and the other consolidates the other 6 personal accounts. Now if I could only remember the blackberry passwords too.
I always respond to personal emails; it is important to me to acknowledge when someone takes the time to send me a note. I do not respond to junk mail or the letters from Nigeria informing me they are holding $100 million for me but they are having trouble sending it to me. But I do respond to other copious emails each day.
The other day I sent an email to a woman with a request to meet for coffee. She, like me, responds to emails even if she is not interested. So she sends me a nice email declining the invitation due to a conflict. Since I respond to all personal emails, I sent her an email thanking her for responding. Since she feels compelled to respond to emails too, she sent me a note thanking me for responding to her response. I am getting ready to respond to her response to my response.
This could be a good story. Two people who have nothing in common other than they both feel it is proper and courteous to respond to letters and emails are caught in eternal email ping-pong. At first, they were irritated to respond so often to spurious emails, but eventually they came to look forward to the routine and familiar comfort from regular contact. After 25 years, the emails ceased. The system of email had been replaced by thought mail – you think something and the thought is transmitted. Unfortunately, he could not adjust and his attempts and sending thoughts often went awry. So he finally gave up, and the emails ceased. But they were fun and comforting for years.
Back to reality. I am uncertain what to do with the deluge of emails. I am reminded of a former US Senator who replied to various constituent letters by saying, “Dear sir, I thought you should know that an idiot has been sending me correspondence and using your good name.” Unfortunately, I would still need to read all the emails before I could identify the undesired senders. so this does not work either.
For junk mail and marketing solicitations, I used to “unsubscribe” to the sender’s list. I have since learned that this action only serves to confirm you have a legitimate email address that now can be sold to other mass mailing services, resulting in a quantum increase in emails received.
Until I figure out a better solution, I will just keep responding to personal emails and ignoring emails from marketing services, get rich schemes, banks where I do not have accounts, and assorted other nuisances. But it is nice to know my brother is fine and the guy in Africa is still holding my $100 million.
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