Earlier this morning, crisp air broke the first light as we hiked to the base of this mountain.
Reminiscing on our past Alpine climbing years, we had a blissful breakfast. We were each other’s life support when cams and bolts gave way to our dynamic retreat from the mountain. We had seen many Headwalls overlooking steep terrains below, experienced many Moraines, Rimes, saddles, and on occasions been treated for hypothermia. We were the best climbing partners.
Tom…Scrambling over the scree, the mountain’s pitch had become steep…very steep. Leading, I set the cams supporting your ascent. The ascent…when we ascended, I remembered our discussion. Yesterday’s discussion, I had felt we had resolved IT.
But…how could I? I feel betrayed, stabbed, hurt! Rhonda was everything, and Rhonda and I vowed to be together…forever. You said that IT had only recently started, but I think otherwise. I apologize, but I couldn’t give you any more support. Farewell my once closest friend. I hope you a better life in your next life. Farewell…
Implementing Solid Microsoft .NET Business Solutions
Saturday, May 7, 2011
COMPUTER DATE
Looking at the clock, I have an appointment. I can finish this, a few more lines, a few more minutes, a few minutes, and more minutes. Fingers clicking on the keyboard, displaying new lines – coded lines. Testing and retesting these fresh new lines. I must go, but why am I receiving this error. I must go to my appointment. Wait! No! It didn’t work.
My appointment, a romantic date, is with a woman whom I had much love for. An evening in a very elegant restaurant, with linens as white as snow and wine sparkling under watching stars. I softly embraced her hand, and saw lines-of-code in her eyes. Precious black characters lined-up tightly. They give way to spaces whenever valid statements or variable names reflected outward. Wait, penetrating deeper into her eyes, that’s it! I found a solution! She spotted my breaking intense smile. She smiles, matching mine. Soon afterward my enthusiasm dissipated into: “NO! That doesn’t work! Why didn’t that work? It seems basic, damn it.”
Finishing dinner, enjoying desert, we strolled out under street lights and running cars. A few blocks down from the restaurant, we meandered along a calm, spacious river. I hugged her so gently. Hold-on! If really that line of code iterated that many times, counting to ten, so why is it eleven? Yes sir, pulling her tighter. In my excitement I kissed her soft, tender neck. Yes sir alright, that is the solution. It is the answer that I had silently contemplated all night. Yes sir!
Swiftly, I guided her smoothly back toward the car, the night is late, and I have an appointment. Lips pressing tightly, my eyes roll up, star bound. I know it is the answer. Good night my love, I had a wonderful evening.
Now it is early morning the keyboard keys rapidly clicking, sleeping not a wink, absorbed, I felt completely happy. Oh yes, that was the answer.
My appointment, a romantic date, is with a woman whom I had much love for. An evening in a very elegant restaurant, with linens as white as snow and wine sparkling under watching stars. I softly embraced her hand, and saw lines-of-code in her eyes. Precious black characters lined-up tightly. They give way to spaces whenever valid statements or variable names reflected outward. Wait, penetrating deeper into her eyes, that’s it! I found a solution! She spotted my breaking intense smile. She smiles, matching mine. Soon afterward my enthusiasm dissipated into: “NO! That doesn’t work! Why didn’t that work? It seems basic, damn it.”
Finishing dinner, enjoying desert, we strolled out under street lights and running cars. A few blocks down from the restaurant, we meandered along a calm, spacious river. I hugged her so gently. Hold-on! If really that line of code iterated that many times, counting to ten, so why is it eleven? Yes sir, pulling her tighter. In my excitement I kissed her soft, tender neck. Yes sir alright, that is the solution. It is the answer that I had silently contemplated all night. Yes sir!
Swiftly, I guided her smoothly back toward the car, the night is late, and I have an appointment. Lips pressing tightly, my eyes roll up, star bound. I know it is the answer. Good night my love, I had a wonderful evening.
Now it is early morning the keyboard keys rapidly clicking, sleeping not a wink, absorbed, I felt completely happy. Oh yes, that was the answer.
TOPPER MANIFEST
The temperature in Michigan dropped below freezing. Snow was plowed into large piles, which would take many spring days to thaw. During the day I drove truck for Canada Dry Bottling Company, At night one could spot me crawling into my box with my Carhartt Arctic Thermals, Danner Super Rainforest all-leather boots, and a wool hat to steal a good night sleep. The dogs napped close to my side, curled, balled tightly, keeping their heat from escaping. I slept tucked away in a mummy sack. We all never raised any complaints about the cold.
Before building the box, I found a nice Oregon rental, which was a cycling distance to Corvallis city limits. A kitchen / living room, a bathroom, and a bedroom, the rental was located off a gravel road where night pitched blackness, where only stars could be seen. Quiet and peaceful, I decorated the place with nice furnishings. The rent was inexpensive and the management was fantastic. During cold months, gas heat kept the place nicely at seventy degrees. I would invite friends over for dinner and occasional talks, while the tranquil guitarist Stanley Jordon was heard over a set of speakers. I never before lived in such a place that I loved so much.
Awakened by the sound of a loud scraping noise and flashing caution lights, I could see through the box’s windows that it was early morning. The snowplows were out clearing the road for the start of the new business day. The Michigan night sky had brought down many inches of snow, which my dogs found very exciting as they rolled and skipped through the accumulation. The pickup was running and warming its engine when the dogs and I ventured into the early morning darkness for a refreshing chilly walk. We would return twenty minutes later finding the pickup’s interior cab very toasty warm and its windows defrosted.
In Corvallis, I built a 4x6x5 foot wooden box, which would fit on my 1985 Nissan pickup’s six-foot bed. With 2x2 inch studs and ¼ inch plywood, I had screwed together a box for living. Building from penciled drawings and wanting a change -- my wooden box was built within a weekend. With a few friends at each side we lifted the wooden box and placed it upon the bed of the truck. People I came in contact with after its completion would call the wooden box a topper.
From five ante meridiem until six post meridiem, I pushed and pulled a dolly through drifted snow mounds and drizzling, freezing snow. At the end of the work day, my toes possessed an achy tingle, which started my feet bouncing a rhythmic step aiding warmth to the sting. Night had come. I found my way to my pickup. Swinging open the topper’s back door, the dogs jumped out and raced around in an open field. Climbing inside the topper, I found the dog’s bowl of water had spilled -- soaking and freezing deep into the mummy sack and into the dog‘s bedding. The mummy sack was stiff as a board! Books and papers that were near the mummy sack were also solidly frozen. No problem, it was a Friday and no work tomorrow, I could dry the items tomorrow. We all spent the night sleeping in the cab of the pickup intermittently turning on the truck and warming up the cab.
I stood in the center of the living room slowly turning clockwise, taking note of what items are of use. I rented all this space and never utilized any of it. I spent much of my time in Corvallis: school, working, homework at the local coffeehouse. I stood questioning the space that I occupied. Did I need all this space to live! Why should my questioning of this space be a problem -- I was able to afford the rental space. The motto of owning or renting square space in which to “live” was probably a deeply ingrained idea that I gleaned from previous traditions of our culture. The truth being I seldom found myself interacting within the walls that I rented. It was definitely the space that initiated thinking about moving... The box idea was born. Everything that I owned is now organized on shelves in my topper.
Space was the catalyst. The essence of living this way is that you find out the essence of the motion of nature. The truth being that what we are told is not necessarily true. When I moved into my topper, I started living in different surroundings and started noticing how social images were telling us how to maintain oneself. Michigan was the test of living the way as I do, which I lived very comfortable and tranquil throughout the winter, contradicting the societal addiction (monkey on my back). This has lead to many other great insights. I do not participate with the expatiations of the societal image except when necessary for their enforced expectations.
Before building the box, I found a nice Oregon rental, which was a cycling distance to Corvallis city limits. A kitchen / living room, a bathroom, and a bedroom, the rental was located off a gravel road where night pitched blackness, where only stars could be seen. Quiet and peaceful, I decorated the place with nice furnishings. The rent was inexpensive and the management was fantastic. During cold months, gas heat kept the place nicely at seventy degrees. I would invite friends over for dinner and occasional talks, while the tranquil guitarist Stanley Jordon was heard over a set of speakers. I never before lived in such a place that I loved so much.
Awakened by the sound of a loud scraping noise and flashing caution lights, I could see through the box’s windows that it was early morning. The snowplows were out clearing the road for the start of the new business day. The Michigan night sky had brought down many inches of snow, which my dogs found very exciting as they rolled and skipped through the accumulation. The pickup was running and warming its engine when the dogs and I ventured into the early morning darkness for a refreshing chilly walk. We would return twenty minutes later finding the pickup’s interior cab very toasty warm and its windows defrosted.
In Corvallis, I built a 4x6x5 foot wooden box, which would fit on my 1985 Nissan pickup’s six-foot bed. With 2x2 inch studs and ¼ inch plywood, I had screwed together a box for living. Building from penciled drawings and wanting a change -- my wooden box was built within a weekend. With a few friends at each side we lifted the wooden box and placed it upon the bed of the truck. People I came in contact with after its completion would call the wooden box a topper.
From five ante meridiem until six post meridiem, I pushed and pulled a dolly through drifted snow mounds and drizzling, freezing snow. At the end of the work day, my toes possessed an achy tingle, which started my feet bouncing a rhythmic step aiding warmth to the sting. Night had come. I found my way to my pickup. Swinging open the topper’s back door, the dogs jumped out and raced around in an open field. Climbing inside the topper, I found the dog’s bowl of water had spilled -- soaking and freezing deep into the mummy sack and into the dog‘s bedding. The mummy sack was stiff as a board! Books and papers that were near the mummy sack were also solidly frozen. No problem, it was a Friday and no work tomorrow, I could dry the items tomorrow. We all spent the night sleeping in the cab of the pickup intermittently turning on the truck and warming up the cab.
I stood in the center of the living room slowly turning clockwise, taking note of what items are of use. I rented all this space and never utilized any of it. I spent much of my time in Corvallis: school, working, homework at the local coffeehouse. I stood questioning the space that I occupied. Did I need all this space to live! Why should my questioning of this space be a problem -- I was able to afford the rental space. The motto of owning or renting square space in which to “live” was probably a deeply ingrained idea that I gleaned from previous traditions of our culture. The truth being I seldom found myself interacting within the walls that I rented. It was definitely the space that initiated thinking about moving... The box idea was born. Everything that I owned is now organized on shelves in my topper.
Space was the catalyst. The essence of living this way is that you find out the essence of the motion of nature. The truth being that what we are told is not necessarily true. When I moved into my topper, I started living in different surroundings and started noticing how social images were telling us how to maintain oneself. Michigan was the test of living the way as I do, which I lived very comfortable and tranquil throughout the winter, contradicting the societal addiction (monkey on my back). This has lead to many other great insights. I do not participate with the expatiations of the societal image except when necessary for their enforced expectations.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)