Tracing Your Daily Steps

Back to form and function.

I mentioned before that I like to design things. I've dabbled in clothing and vehicles, including boats.

Mostly, I like to design homes. Specifically, floor plans, since my decorative ideas tend to be different from other people. Colour, material, finishes, that is up to whoever has to look at the stuff. I like to design the space people live in. I even took a drafting course in high school.

The key to designing a working space is to think about how you will use it. The best way to do that is to trace the steps you take in a given day. You get up, go to the bathroom to get your day going, and then aim for the coffee and breakfast. At least, that is the common start up routine for most people. Your mileage may vary. But that is where knowing who you are planning for comes in. The form of the home MUST follow the function of the space.

When the floor plan is first drawn, I actually act out a typical day, tracing with a pencil. It would amaze you how quickly you can pick out inefficiency and wasted steps. This is how they came up with the optimum work triangle for the kitchen. The same thing works well for the bathroom, public spaces or an office.

You've naturally heard that you cannot know somebody until you've walked a mile in his or her shoes. The same is true of design. You can't make something for another person to use until you have followed in their footsteps and know their routine.

Form, function?

Today's discussion is about my sweater. Okay, yes, that is a little off the wall, but there is a point to it. You'll have to trust me on that one.

Years ago, when I went to University, I asked my mother to knit me a cardigan. I had a very definite feel in mind. Naturally, I wanted something warm. That is the whole point of the sweater. The difficult part was, I wanted something longer and larger than usual. If you've ever seen the length of a standard lab coat, you get the idea. I also wanted something rather "baggy" that had space.

You see, form follows function, as the old saying goes. The function of my black sweater was to be almost like a blanket with sleeves. I can wrap myself in it when I'm cold, or I can let it fall out behind me like a cape. It is not uncommon for one of the cats to curl up on the section that falls on the couch beside me when I don't have it wrapped.

There pockets even conform to my needs. There are two large outer pockets for me to shove my hand into. Inside of them are two smaller pockets. Those fulfill the needs of a regular pocket. I can stuff my cell phone or a pen in there. Two functions for the price of one.

Now to the point. (I bet you were wondering when I'd get there.)

All to often, we decide on somethings value from it's look. It's not until you wear your sweater that you really understand what you need, and how to achieve it. It may look odd on the rack, but when it's on you, it feels natural. Designers these days put so much emphasis on the "rack" look, that we have given up comfort and usefulness for style. If we applied a "form and function" to how we design our clothes, our homes and other articles, we'd all be more comfortable.

Weather or Not?

Well, the season is beginning to change, as indicated by the amount of fur that our cats are shedding. There have been a couple of frost advisories that have resulted in my covering my tomato plants. The leaves and beech nuts have been falling from the trees. (By the way, beech nuts will do damage to the cranium if they fall on you. Be warned!)

So why is it that I'm sitting here in shorts?

This has been a strange year, weather-wise, even up here in Canada. I won't begin to go into the problems experienced in the lower forty-eight. Summer took its own time getting here, with a lot of rain and then, when it did arrive, it did so with a vengeance. The humidity was enough to flatten you out, and then create short thunder storms. Now we go from highs of 26 C to lows of 1 or 2, sometimes to the freezing point.

I think that's one of the wonderful things about being Canadian. We always have something to gripe about. If you don't like the weather, wait five minutes!

On the other hand, I don't think I could imagine living someplace with a more regular climate. My aunt and uncle have a place in Florida that they escape to each winter. They were even tempted to spend the Christmas Holidays down there. Christmas without snow. So wrong, on so many levels. Besides, I think my favorite time of year is when the maples have all changed color, but the leaves haven't all fallen to the ground. That would be so hard to give up.

So, like every other Canadian, I think I'll go ahead and complain about the weather, and just keep a pair of shorts handy.

Um, er, what was that again?

Please note: my brain had gone on vacation for the last few days. This may not be noticeable to most of you. In the event that I say something of value, a face mask will drop from the ceiling, allowing you to breathe normally.
I just thought I'd put that little disclaimer in there to see how many of you were paying attention.
For a little while now, I've been feeling kinda grey. There is nothing that really gets me going during the day. I'm wondering if maybe the affect of caffeine has been eliminated somehow by my body. My mind doesn't wander so much as just kinda slips out of gear and into neutral.
Poor Sandra has an awful time when I'm like this. She can turn and say something to me, and I'll sit as if in a trance. Usually, this only occurs when I am reading. Lately, I will just zone out on her once in a while. This has to be very exasperating, especially when there are only the two of us in the apartment. Many is the time she has said something, and I have asked her to repeat herself, and been told, "Oh, never mind!"
It could be that winter has finally caught up with me on a mental level. Not being able to get out into the fresh air may have me a little stale. I know I always feel a bit more alert after going out into sunshine and fresh, scent laden breezes. Last summer, I used to go for a nightly walk around the block, and that made all the difference in the world. For one thing, Sandra didn't have to look at my face for an hour or so.
Let's see what happens when the warmer weather comes, and we can get out more often. Maybe holding the old fishing rod again will restore my brain to normal functioning. (Whatever that is for a guy.) In the meanwhile, I beg your indulgence for a while if my posts ramble a bit more than usual.

The fashion don't that I am

It was a nice day today. Sandra and I decided to go for a bit of a drive, since we had to go out for some spaghetti sauce anyway. I figured I'd go into Wal-Mart and get a new dress shirt. Somehow, I lost my favourite shirt just after we moved.
I don't know what it is, but I am partial to short sleeves. It might have something to do with all of the time that I have spent in kitchens. Let's face it, long, white sleeves and marinara sauce just don't mix. On the other hand, any food item that can spill, white shirts and myself do not go together. Sandra, the poor dear, is ready to ban me from owning anything white. She always says that she can dress me up, but she can't take me anywhere.
I still think the nicest shirts I've ever owned have been the over sized dress shirts (with short sleeves) and the golf shirt that I once got at the thrift store. It was so large, it almost came down to my knees. I like the freedom to move in my clothing. The biggest problem I've found is getting shirts that fit me across the shoulders without being the length of night shirts. Not that I mind length, to be honest.
This may be one of the strangest posts I've ever written.
I think the main point here (does there really have to be one?) is that I dress very much for comfort. Fashions come and go, but the ability to sit without scratching at your collar is forever. I've never been one to keep up with the fad of the day. In high school, I once spent a year dressing in old security guard shirts. A neighbour got rid of them by letting me take them. I wore the things out.
The only thing I have against the way I look in my dress shirts and ties is that I look very much like Drew Carey!

Prints

I think there is an unwritten rule that says you will print out a page three times before you get it just right. Everytime I print something, there are major flaws in it. Either there was a cat hair in the printer, or I have made an error in the copy.
From now on, when I even think about printing off something, I'm going to have at least three sheets of paper available. I can count on a lot of recycling.

Nostalgia and impressions

For the first time, Sandra and I have composed a Christmas letter, to go out in each of the cards we are mailing this year. It' s basically just a way for us to let everyone catch up with what we have been doing lately.
At one time, a lot of people used to send out letters like this. Now, it's a rare family that sends out actual Christmas cards. E-cards have taken the place of the paper variety. It's hard to remember the last time that I got an actual letter in the mail. I think my grandmother sent one about eight months ago.
Technology has made communication a lot easier, but I don't think it has made it any better. Text messaging is a perfect example. It is a quick and relatively inexpensive way to get your message out there. A lt gts lst in the trnsltion tho. Is it any wonder kids are having trouble learning how to spell?
There are some things that pen and paper have going for them. All are purely psychological. For one thing, there is an immediacy to a letter that you are holding. The physical presence kind of makes you feel like the writer is with you. The other thing is the intimacy of the hand written letter. Somebody took the time to hold the pen and thought of you as they were writing. Sometimes, you can feel that in the letter.
Let's admit it, I am a romantic at heart. I like some of the old values that society has let slide. I still want to open a door for a lady, or help her on with her coat. I feel like a slob if I wear a t-shirt and track pants if I'm going to town. I think that tattoos and piercing should be private, in places that can be hidden when you go someplace formal.
That is another thing our society has lost. We might be able to get dressed up, but where are we going to go? I might use my suit once every year. Going out for a meal is done in denim jeans and a clean shirt. What ever happened to impressing your date's parents when you picked her up for dinner and a movie?
My oldest niece tells me that I sound like an old man when I write things like this. That's the problem. I sound like and OLD man, not a gentleman. My greatest goal in life is to have people remember me as a gentleman when I leave the room for the last time. It's the image I would hope to project when I meet somebody for the first time.

Comedic Timing

In yesterday's blog, I made a typo that got past the spell checker. This is the value of proper proof reading of all documents. Spell checkers are fine, but things will get by them.
In this case, it was a doozy, and my wife picked up on it and had a great laugh.
When I meant to write that my mother-in-law cannot bend a certain way, making cleaning the bathtub impossible for her, I accidentally dropped the "n" and said she cannot bed that way for medical reasons.
Sandra read this and just about died of hysterics!
Frankly, it isn't an image I really needed in my head. Granted, older folks are entitled to a life too, but I really don't need to know about it. I just don't see a magazine of that sort being a big seller, if you know what I mean.
Anyway, this is a classic case of comedic timing. The right word was misspelled at just the right time and place to make for something funny. To think that people actually have to try for this stuff! All they really have to do is turn off their spell check for a while, and just write. It helps if you have a bit of a tremor to your hands and arms, sometimes missing keys.
Please enjoy any errors that I make in my post, and feel free to point them out. We can all use a giggle now and then.

And I dreamed

Lately, I've been having some very strange dreams.
For example, the other night, I dreamed that my brother was suddenly going on a homicidal spree. Somehow it became my job to stop him and clean up the rather gory mess. I don't watch horror movies or anything, so I don't know where that came from. For another thing, my brother, while not the most calm person in the world, is not prone to senseless violence.
Last night was even stranger.
For some unknown reason, a bunch of dope peddlers were trying to force my father and myself into the business. (I know, but who said dreams had to make sense?) The more I'd tell these two clowns to bugger off, the harder they would try. So I just worked my way up the food chain of this little organization, making a right nuisance of myself until they were doing everything they could to avoid me.
Dreams are tricky things. Sometimes they are warnings of things you should be aware of but are not able to consciously deal with. Other times, they are a way for your mind to sort through daily events, to put things together. Then you have dreams like the ones I have just written about. They have absolutely no context in the waking world. It's like every image you have ever seen just got piled in a jumble and put together as a picture.
I can usually tell when I'm dreaming. At that point, I can either ignore the dream, or see where it takes me. Last night, I didn't manage to control anything. I was just along for the ride.
It's kind of like paying ten bucks to see a comedy movie with a bunch of friends, and just not getting it. In the cold light of day, the dream makes even less sense, and is even less entertaining. Not unlike the movie "Dumb and Dumber".

The world needs more trivia

Sometimes when I write my blog, I feel a little bit like Andy Rooney, from 60 Minutes. Think about it for a second. I sit at my keyboard waiting for inspiration to hit, but what usually comes out on the screen is drivel that nobody in their right mind could be bothered to read.
I think I've hit most of the same topics as he has too, from the rising cost of everyday items, to stupid products or television programs.
On the other hand, I like to think I've touched on some things of interest as well. I have discussed depression, disability and morality. Certainly I have written my fair share about the environment. Serious subjects may be few and far between, but that isn't really what blogging is about, is it? After all, I have described this space as a look into what's on my mind. We all have days when there just isn't much there.
The chief advantage the computer age has given us is the ability to record our daily lives in this fashion. We, as writers, can reveal as much or as little about ourselves as we wish to. In some cases, we talk about the issues that affect all of us, and in others, we get down to the nitty-gritty of just who we are. The important thing is that, as long as blogs exist, there will always be an outlet for our feelings and our creativity.
Do you ever wonder what it would have been like if the Internet had been around during key points of history? Imagine a soldier in the trenches of World War I, being able to put the hell he was experiencing into his own words, words that just anyone could read. People who made great discoveries in the early ages of civilization could have spread them farther and faster. In fact, the dark ages might never have happened at all.
As with any medium though, blogs can and do get used for less than noble purposes. It is the price we pay for advancement as a society. As the readers, at least we get to decide what is of value, and what can be ignored. In a repressive regime, even the press can be stopped. Ideas on the Internet are much harder to keep under wraps. Just ask the government of Burma.
Write on, fellow bloggers. Even if you do write trivia some days, at least it's trivia of your own interpretation.

Q: Do men ever grow up. A: No, our cartoons just get more graphic.

The title of this post really says it all. As I've gotten older, I never truly gave up watching cartoons. It's an art form that will never really die out. Not unlike the soap opera, which made the move from radio to television. I can see the day when cartoons are a major part of Internet content.
The worst part of it is that the core of cartooning has been lost. Most of the stuff you see these days is made in the animae style of Japan. That means big busted girls in extremely short school girl uniforms. Well, there is more to animae than that, but that seems to be the biggest trend, from what I've seen.
What comes out of North America are cartoons that you just don't want your kids watching, if you have any hope of raising something other than psychopaths. At first glance, The Simpsons, Futurama and the like may seem harmless. Wait for three minutes into the show. There is always some sexual, racist or antisocial content. Don't even get me started on South Park! There is a reason why these shows aren't supposed to be on before eight in the evening.
I'm more of a traditionalist when it comes to my cartoons. Give me a good episode of Bugs Bunny any day. Scooby Doo was another favourite. To this day, my father will snicker if you put in an old Scooby Doo tape and wait for a few seconds. Sometimes I think as we get older, our sense of humour atrophies, and the jokes have to become more and more crass just to get through.
Comic strips on the other hand, are another story. They are, for the most part, still the same, clean, family entertainment that we have always had. Which isn't to say that they cannot deal with adult issues. Being in the newspapers, they just have to do it in a mature, adult manner. I think the best examples of this is "For Better or For Worse" and "Baby Blues". Both have dealt with some pretty adult subjects in a way that does not offend the general reader.
I think that the older men get, the more infantile their idea of entertainment gets. As a man, I can say that without sounding like a sexist woman trying to bash males in general. What other guys will say is another matter.

Still not there

I have been writing about the experiences that I have been having moving into the new apartment. At this point, we still aren't quite there. As usually happens, once you start getting into your old routines, you discover that something is not quite in the right place for convenience.
By way of example, last night I moved the coffee mugs and glasses, exchanging them with the other dishes. I was doing the supper dishes, when it occurred to me that if I put the plates in the cupboard nearer the stove, it would save time and energy when it comes time to serve meals. Sure, it sounds inane, until you consider that there will be a lot of time spent in the kitchen, with the goal of making as few moves as possible to achieve the desired result.
I have a condition that leaves me with tired spells. Every bit of saved effort is important.
This sort of thing is going to go on for at least a month, I expect.
As another example, I have a relatively small bedroom. Having mobility issues, I need the space to be maximized, from a usability point of view. Does that mean I should have space on either side of the bed, so that making it is easier, or should I have the bed against the wall, giving me more floor space. I've had to try it both ways to figure it out. Sometimes you just have to make a trial run at things.
At this point you are all probably questioning my sanity. "Is this guy for real?", you ask yourselves. The answer, of course, is yes, I am for real, an I am definitely not all sane. May the first sane person leave a comment.

This is news?

I wait with bated breath the moment my Internet homepage comes up. I have it set on the MSN Sympatico page. In the States, it would be the MSN/NBC page. It has sections of stories that come in and update on a fairly regular basis.
On today's page, one of the more prominent items is a collection of celebrity shots. All of them famous couple caught making out. I looked at this (just the link, not the photos) and just shook my head. This is what passes for news these days?
I will grant that there were a number of legitimate news stories on the home page. None of them were given the same sort of hype. In fact, the serious stories only come AFTER the stupid videos. The first section of the page rotates from one set of links to another, but the idiotic are the ones with accompanying pictures.
It's only a matter of time before our homepages put the tabloids out of business.
Ever wonder how they write those things?
I think it goes something like this,

First writer: God, I'm sick of following the Olsen twins! If there's a small tree around, you lose sight of them.

Second writer: Hey, at least you weren't out in the woods during mosquito season looking for a guy claiming to have clear pictures of Bigfoot.

Editor enters waving pictures: Okay, whoever can write the weirdest story to go with these pictures wins a trip to Hawaii to look for Elvis!

I think that's about as close to the truth as you can get. The worst part is that all of these writers went to journalism school and have student loans to pay off. I'll bet they all would rather be writing books.
It makes you wonder just how easy it is to entertain the masses, doesn't it?

Writer's block

I've been sitting here for the past half hour trying to think of something to blog about. Nada. Maybe I'm trying too hard. The problem is, I've promised myself certain things when I started this blog. One of them was that I wouldn't make this a forum for my personal problems. I also swore that I would not write anything that could be considered "indiscreet" or "gossipy".
At times, those promises can be a little constricting.
I had thought to write about a problem a friend of mine was having, but that would have been "indiscreet". I tried writing around it, but it didn't work. It came out a little too, I don't know, preachy and self-righteous.
There are things going on in my life that I could right about, but that would have broken the first rule I laid down. Besides which, I hate to sound like a whiner. I hate to listen to that sort of thing, and I'm sure you do too.
This is where fiction writers are working from an advantage. What they are writing about is disguised behind the characters they are writing about. They can talk about embarrassing events or stuff that has happened to them. After all, it isn't themselves they are writing about.
Journalist also have the advantage of writing about a particular subject. If they hit a stumbling block, they can just go back to their research. Besides which, they are writing for a specific audience.
I don't even know if anyone is really reading this. Hello, is anyone out there? (If you hear a tapping on your screen, that's just me.) Of course, blogs are written as much for the author as for the audience. It's a way of getting your thoughts "out there" where they can be looked at from a fresh perspective. Besides which, comments can give you a new look at an idea.
Okay, now we are getting to the nitty-gritty of this post, the purpose of a blog.
In my case, a blog is really just a chance for me to empty a little of what is going on in my head. Hopefully, my audience finds this thoughtful, insightful or amusing. Trying to make people laugh or think has always been a hobby of mine. I'm not ashamed to admit that I like attention. I just don't deserve a lot of it.
Okay, that came off a little whiny.
There is the problem with emptying one's head. It reveals every little flaw. I'm not sure who said it, but there is a quote that goes, "The only bad thing an autobiography reveals about the author is his memory", or something to that effect. That is another thing I want to try to avoid with this blog.
This post isn't all that interesting, but the title says it all.