Author Archives: Michael C. McGreevy

A Look Back

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You know, it’s funny. I feel the need to preface every post I make on this blog with something along the lines of “sorry it has been so long since I posted, but [reasons],” which is a silly thing because at this point I’m fairly certain most people I know have even forgotten I had a blog. It’s also kind of amusing to me that the first post I’ve decided to write in 10 months is a “year in review” post, considering the fact that I have historically scoffed at those kind of posts. I also, however, tend to mock the practice of making resolutions in the new year, but in the last few weeks Lisa and I have not only set an ambitious budget for the year but she took the time to plan out an entire month of meals for us in January and I’m really going to try and get back to running with the Couch 2 5k program…soooo…I guess I’m just a big hypocrite.

I do have a strange compulsion to write these kind of things every year. This is most likely due to the fact that it’s a long-standing family tradition on my Mothers side to include a “year in review” letter in Christmas cards. My Grandmother did it every year, and for a long time both my Mother and Uncle Ed did so. I picked it up for several years once I was out on my own and had my own family, but these days the only person who is still carrying the annual Christmas letter torch is Uncle Ed. And I think that’s…OK. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about traditions, and about how we spend so much time and energy focused on things of the past and holding them up as some sort of sacred rituals that must never, ever be changed or altered or examined because doing so is an insult to our ancestors, and Christmas traditions are high on the list of “why do we do it this way” for me. I mean, as a Floridian, I’ve never, ever celebrated a “white Christmas.” I’ve never seen snow. I cannot recall the last time I celebrated Christmas without the air conditioner running. If you know me at all, you know there’s not a single religious motivation for me to celebrate Christmas (and, to be honest, the Christian reasons are flimsy at best). I guess I just feel like so much of what we do around Christmas is focused around obligation. If you want to see your family and friends, why do you have to wait until Christmas to do it? If you want to give someone a gift, why not just give it to them?

If you want to write a letter or blog post talking about the things going on in your life, why not just write it?

And thus, we come back to me pointing out my own hypocrisy. So it goes. I suppose the upside of the whole Christmas thing is that it kind of forces you to take a step back and do some of the things that you’ve just been “too busy” to do throughout the rest of the year.

So. 2018. I could, of course, talk about how much of a dumpster fire the year was. Because it was. It seems like the world is on fire and we live every day with some sort of low level tension wondering what new kind of atrocity we’re going to have to learn how to live with. I’m not going to focus on that here, though. Yeah, some things sucked. Some things sucked a lot. But there was a lot of good out there, too. At least, there was for me. Obviously I cannot speak for everyone, but in my personal life I’ve got a lot of positive to look back on.

Let’s start with the fact that in 2018 I commemorated five years of marriage with Lisa. I originally wrote “celebrated” there, but the fact is that I celebrate being married to her every day. I cannot emphasize enough how much of a positive impact she has made on my life, and how thankful I am that I have her love and companionship. Her support, her feedback, and her encouragement have pushed me to new highs professionally. Her willingness to spend the time and effort making sure that the majority of our meals are healthy and made with real ingredients has been a key factor in the fact that I’m back down to a weight that I have not seen since my initial success with Weight Watchers back in the 90’s. When I display behaviors that are problematic she checks me and helps me to unpack another layer of toxic mental baggage that I’m carrying around as part of my middle-aged white cis male identity. I believe that I compliment her in similar ways, and together we’ve just worked towards become better people and a better couple.

Ultimately, it’s just fun to be her husband.

In May of this year, I took the stage at the University of Maryland University College Adelphi campus to receive my last, and final, college degree. I’m really glad I decided to do so. The degree itself was conferred in December of last year, but I wanted to actually celebrate the occasion for a change (I did not walk for my Bachelors Degree or my first Masters Degree). Lisa, my Mother, and my son Alexander went with me to Maryland where we spent several days in a fantastic AirBNB, did some sightseeing, and went to the ceremony. It was truly one of the best vacations I have ever taken, and I am so thankful to have had them there with me and cheering me on.

After taking a break from acting to focus on finishing my MBA, I was back on stage in June with the Jobsite Theater in a production of Dancing at Lughnasa. It was a great way to get back in the game. Michael (my character in the show) was a delight to bring to life, and by the end of the run the whole cast and crew truly did feel like a family (not something that always happens by a long shot). The show was well reviewed, audiences were very appreciative, and just overall it was a wonderful experience. Jobsite celebrated 20 years of existence as a company this year, and I’ve been part of the ensemble for 19 of those years. I’ve watched the company grow, and go through the requisite growing pains. I’ve watched actors develop their skills and watched new companies spring up around the Tampa Bay area. I’m currently rehearsing a production of Othello with the company, and I have the privilege of working with a new crop of young actors who will be part of the next generation around here, and I’m thankful for the fact that I’ve been part of building a company that is getting closer and closer to being able to pay them a living wage so they can really focus on making great theater and not worry about how they are going to feed themselves in the process.

While it passed with little to no ceremony, I was promoted to Enterprise Agile Coach at my job earlier this year. The promotion came with no new real responsibilities, and I won’t see any significant financial benefit until early in 2020, but the promotion meant a lot to me regardless. It showed that the credit union valued what it is I’m bringing to the table every day, and that they have faith in the fact that I’m going to be able to help them achieve their long-term goals. It’s kind of daunting and, at times, exhausting work. But when I see the positive impact of what I’m doing it’s very, very rewarding. As of 2018 I have been with the organization for 15 years. I love what I do, I respect the people I work with, and I truly believe that as a large enterprise in a capitalistic society we truly focus on offering the best products and services we can to our members without operating in a manner that is financially irresponsible. Our company regularly places on lists of great places to work because, simply, it is. Needless to say, my job satisfaction is high.

While we continue to be quite hermetic in terms of socialization, we have made conscious efforts to spend more time with friends this year, having game nights, going to movies, or simply hanging out. We even took our first vacation (outside of group outings like Goth Cruise or Dragon Con) with one of the couples we hang out with in November of this year, and it was great. We got to go on their first cruise with them, and I’m fairly certain we were able to infect them with the cruising bug.

Speaking of cruising, we crossed the line into Diamond Crown and Anchor Society status with Royal Caribbean this year. This means we have spent 80 nights cruising together in the last 5 years. I mention this not to brag, but just as one other data point in things I am thankful for in my life. We have the ability to take actual vacations, and cruising is something that makes us both very happy. It’s the perfect way to just “get away” and not worry about scheduling, where we are going to eat, what we are going to do, or…really, anything. As I’ve said on multiple occasions, I know a lot of people scoff at the idea of cruising, but for us it simply works.

I suppose I would be remiss in writing a letter like this if I didn’t talk more about Alexander, but like my marriage to Lisa having him in my life is just something that brings me joy on a daily basis. We don’t talk every day, and that doesn’t bother me. I was speaking to a friend last night and I said that one of my primary goals in raising him was making sure he was able to be independent, and with that independence comes a certain level of distance at times. Still, he takes the time to occasionally send me a text just to say he loves me, and he makes an effort to try and see us as often as he can. He’s currently in school and working at a fairly high-end steak and sushi place, and he has plans to move back out on his own again within the next few months (he’s currently living with his mother). I’m just very proud of him and the adult he has matured in to.

Home ownership kind of sucked this year, but in the spirit of looking at the bright side I’m happy to report that we do not have a sinkhole in our back yard. After extensive testing from two different engineering companies the source of our erosion and accelerated settling was determined to be a broken sewer line. Unfortunately, that break was within our property line and, as a result, our financial responsibility. Between that and the need to upgrade our electrical system this year we spent a considerable amount of un-budgeted money on home repairs.

I’m going to go ahead and wrap this up now. I’ve got Hoppin’ John to make, a brisket to smoke, and other assorted prep to take care of before we spend the evening safe at home celebrating an arbitrary measurement of time that is ultimately meaningless (see how I brought it back to celebrating traditions???). I hope you’re able to look back on the last year with fondness as I can, and I hope your 2019 is even better.

The Past Is The Past

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“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”

– George Santayana

The first time I heard this quote was in the early 1990’s. Jello Biafra chanted it three times, like a self-affirming mantra of sorts, during a spoken word show at the Ritz Theater in Ybor City. That show was truly life changing for me in many ways. It happened during the first Gulf War, and as a result of what was said there I resolved to myself that I would never be compelled to take another human life unless it was in self-defense (I claimed for years that I had “registered” as a conscientious objector, but that was untrue. I knew what was required to do so, but never actually went through the steps to make it official). I tore up my draft card during that show, and left the scattered pieces on the floor of the venue. I became more interested in politics, and in particular the people who pointing out just how ridiculous some of the things that went on in the world were. After this performance I expanded my reading to include more than just fantasy and science fiction books, and eventually found myself immersed in the words of people like Hunter S. Thompson, Kurt Vonnegut, Ken Kesey, Jack Kerouac, and Henry Rollins.

It was a hell of a night.

Now it’s about 25 years later. Jerry Brown, the vile enemy of the Dead Kennedy’s song California Uber Alles is now a darling of the Democratic Party.  Jello Biafra is still around and trying to change the world, but these days he looks more like someone’s Dad than a dominant figure in the punk music scene. We long for the days when we thought George W. Bush was the Worst. President. Ever. We carry the wealth of human knowledge around in our pockets and we use it to look at pictures of cats. Then there is me. I’ve worked for 15 years with the same company, working my way up through a non-profit corporate chain to a significant advisory position to the leadership group. I have tattoos, and I still have some “crazy” notions like “killing other people is generally a really bad idea”, but I’m definitely not the same person I was when I was so enamored by the words of Mr. Biafra back in the 90’s, and some of the things that stuck with me that night don’t hold up quite so well in my current way of thinking.

Particularly the admonitions about remembering the past.

Now, I’m not suggesting we shouldn’t look to the past in order to recognize patterns that recur in human history. Heck, our current administration is pretty much a text book example of why we should always keep an eye out for another totalitarian government. I’m also not suggesting that experiences in our own personal lives shouldn’t shape our decisions today. They shouldn’t dictate them by any means, but one of the whole points in life is learning from our mistakes.

No, I’m talking – probably unsurprisingly – about living in the past when it comes to your current business decisions.

During a recent meeting amongst some of our mid-level managers, the issue of the lack of project documentation came up. “Back before we made this switch to Agile,” the commentator opined, “we knew exactly what we were getting out of a project because it was in the requirements document. We could go back to that document to make sure we got everything we asked for. And all of those documents were stored on the PMO site, so we could go back and look for them years later so that we could refresh ourselves on why we made the decisions we did in the past.”

I did my best not to run screaming from the room like I’m always tempted to do when someone bemoans the “good old days” of Waterfall development. I took a deep breath and talked to the individual about the values present in the Agile Manifesto, particularly the notion of “Customer Collaboration over contract negotiation.” I talked about the fact that those requirements docs were a double-edged sword, and that they could easily be used against the stakeholder (the nefarious “scope creep” accusations). I emphasized how the stakeholder should be in constant contact with their product owner while a delivery team was working on their product, and how they should be working with the team daily. I extolled the benefits of the Sprint Review and how that feedback loop could prevent the delivery team from wasting time by going too far down a path that is dictated by a rigid requirements document. I said all the things a good Agile Coach should say.

What I didn’t do was express my utter and complete horror at the notion of keeping an archive of documents about past projects.

This is one of the areas where I’m really big on the values from the manifesto. “Working Software over comprehensive documentation.” I get that the manifesto isn’t saying that you shouldn’t document, but for me personally documentation is a monumental waste of time – especially if you’re talking about an environment where everyone is working for the same company. Spending effort creating documents that MIGHT be used by a small group of people is really something I personally take issue with, especially in the world of software development where I’m a proponent and practitioner of self-documenting code.

But more importantly, this is an area in which I feel like it’s important to leave the decisions of the past behind you. My mentor frequently states that “an idea that is good enough will come back in time.” He mentions this in regards to regularly cleaning out the backlog by removing items that have sat around for a while with no action. I look at old documents with a similar eye. Do we really need to spend time going over documents that are years old? Do we need to re-hash old arguments? Do we need to try and remember what the market conditions were at the time that led us to our decisions? Do the rules and regulations that led us to past decisions even exist any more? Have they changed? How much time do we waste digging through archives, planning meetings, and generally getting nothing done when we could turn our ideas over to teams who can produce working solutions?

If your organization is trying to promote a culture where teams can “fail fast,” but you’re still overly concerned with trying to prevent the mistakes of the past, you’re destined to, well, fail. Give your teams the safety to run with ideas, try some small experiments, and learn on their own without burdening them with decisions that are, most likely, irrelevant today. Let them learn on their own. More importantly, open yourself to the possibility that they are going to come up with solutions that are completely different than the ones your organization thought of in the past. Considering how quickly the market is changing these days, that’s much more likely than you might think.

 

Guns and the Constitution. Because of course.

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I am not a Constitutional scholar. I am not a lawyer. I haven’t spent years of my life dedicated to the understanding of the ways our system of laws work. I’m just a guy who, in all honesty, had his interest in the Founding Fathers sparked because of Hamilton: An American Musical. Over the course of the last year I’ve read Ron Chernow’s books on Hamilton and Washington. I’ve read the Constitution, the Declaration of Independence, and all the Amendments. I’ve read the Federalist papers.

At this moment, as we’re looking at another series of school shootings in our country, I’m particularly thinking about how everything I’ve read in the last year squares up with what our current situation is in this country.

Hamilton was opposed to a Bill of Rights for the Constitution, simply due to the fact that he was concerned it would set a precedent that would expand the powers of the Federal Government beyond what the Constitution intended. His reasoning was that, by declaring that the Government specifically could NOT pass legislation removing certain rights, the implication was that the Government HAD the power to pass laws not expressly forbidden by the amendments. The Government had, for example, no right to restrict the freedom of the press in the original document. It was, therefore, unnecessary for there to be an Amendment specifically stating that they could not do it. Fast Forward to now, and in order to prevent the Federal Government from passing a law restricting flag burning, for example, and you are forced to classify Flag Burning as “speech.”

Now take this data and turn it to guns. Here you have the opposite problem. Because the Bill of Rights specifically protects the right of the people to “keep and bear arms”, the Federal AND State Governments have found themselves in a situation where any attempt to pass reasonable gun legislation becomes a “Constitutional Crisis.” The truly amusing thing about all of this is that some people view the Second Amendment as proof the the Founders wanted everyone armed, when that is far from true. At the time the Constitution passed, all thirteen states had some sort of gun legislation in their Constitutions. Hamilton was terrified by the prospect of armed mobs. In many states, in order to own a gun you had to swear an oath of loyalty to the Confederacy.

And while I know this argument has been made, unsuccessfully, thousands of times…What the Founding Fathers viewed as “arms” back in the 1700’s and the weapons we have available to us today are so radically different as to be virtually unrecognizable in the same context. According to a completely random internet forum I just found using Google, a highly-skilled re-enactor can fire a flintlock rifle six times in one minute…while standing completely still…

Those are the “arms” the Second Amendment was written about.

Keep and bear those all you want, folks. That’s not at all what I’m worried about these days.

I don’t really have any sort of major point in writing this, or a solution, or…really anything. I’m numb, and I keep seeing people say that the solution is MORE guns and MORE metal detectors and MORE walls and fences and borders…and I just keep thinking…This is not the world we should want to live in. We shouldn’t need to be locked in amber to feel safe. I don’t want schools to be fortresses.

I want there to be less guns.

Much less.

Like…none.

But instead I’m thinking that I need to buy one.

So. There it is.

The Economics of Star Trek: Discovery

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Star Trek: Discovery is, in my opinion, the best Star Trek series since the original one. It might even be better than the original series, but it’s hard to top that since TOS was groundbreaking for the time. When I heard that CBS All Access was going to be showing the series exclusively through their subscription portal, I didn’t even hesitate to re-activate our account. It was last used to watch the most recent season of The Amazing Race, as we do not have cable, satellite, or a functioning antenna to catch over-the-air transmissions. I didn’t even think twice about it, because this is how we consume media these days. If there is a series on we want to see through a platform we don’t have access to we pay for it while the show is on and, when it’s over, we shut the service back off again.

It works well for us, because we don’t end up paying for services we don’t want.

Based on the number of people who want to burn the CBS studios to the ground over this decision, though, I guess we’re in the minority. I just don’t get it. People are enraged over the fact that a Star Trek series isn’t available for FREE.

Except, it never HAS been. Nothing in life is.

If you’re a subscriber to cable or a satellite service you’re paying for CBS.

If you’re watching a series on Hulu, Netflix or Amazon, you’re paying for those services.

You can make the argument that watching CBS using an antenna is free, but you’re still watching commercials…you’re paying for those shows by consuming advertisements.

Star Trek has never, ever, been “free.”

What’s more, I frankly don’t understand the outrage even if this was some kind of radical departure from conventional business practices. The commercial-free version of CBS All Access is roughly 10 bucks a month. For every month that the show runs, you get five hours of content for $10, IF the only thing you watch is Discovery. You’d pay the same, or more, to go see a first-run movie in a theater. I’ve seen people talk about waiting until the DVD comes out and buying it. Admittedly a cheaper option, if you don’t mind waiting to see if CBS makes it an option (something that, at this point, is unclear).

The folks that amuse me the most, though, are the ones who say they will wait until it comes to [insert streaming service here].

Really, though, I get kind of grossed out by the sheer entitlement of it all. Like these people deserve to see Star Trek, and it’s a personal affront if they must change their viewing habits in order to see it.

But then again, geeks are an odd bunch.

Meeting Myself

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I don’t remember exactly when this happened, but I believe it was in the Fall of 1993. I was living in Polk County at the time, working overnights at a plastics plant in Lakes Wales while attending school full time at the Polk Community College. For, perhaps, the first time outside of my early childhood I was at a healthy weight and exercising on a regular basis (it was, for the record, Slim-Fast that time…not something I’d suggest trying in retrospect). I was living with my friend and co-worker Bill in a nice apartment that we managed to keep clean. We had a decent sound system and an entire wall of VHS tapes and CD’s to entertain us. I had a comic subscription at an awesome shop in downtown Winter Haven, and had established a small circle of Polk County folks to play games with on a regular basis.

It was my first real taste of being a grown-up. Of independence. It was great.

I made regular pilgrimages back to St. Petersburg on the weekend to stay with my Mother for a few days and see my friends. On one of those weekends, I was running around by myself all day on a Saturday with the windows down, enjoying the alternative music programming that was on 88.5 WMNF. My hair was long, and my grunge look was in full effect. I felt good about myself and what I had accomplished. I was smiling and singing with the radio, when it suddenly hit me…

I liked me.

That thought had never occurred to me before, and there have been many times since that I’ve forgotten it, but in that very moment I was utterly and completely happy to know myself. “Here’s a guy,” I thought, “who I would enjoy hanging out with. He’s pretty damned cool.”

I think that for most of us it is rare to have those moments. I think it’s even harder to today, with the proliferation of technology. I was forced to be in my own head that day. I couldn’t distract myself with social media or handheld games. It was just me, myself, and I. No talking. No texting. No phone calls. Just spending time getting to know the person who lives in my head and discovering that he’s a person I am happy to know.

This isn’t a screed against technology by any means. It was just something that occurred to me earlier today as I was driving to work…

Listening to music.

Singing along.

Just alone in my head…in my car…having a moment like I did 24 years ago…

And realizing that I still find myself to be a pretty nifty guy.

Blind Loyalty

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I do not understand blind loyalty.

My wife and I have a group text going with my Uncle, where we coordinate going to see movies and discuss things that we all have a common interest in (the primary categories being Marvel movies, sports, and technology). The other night he excitedly sent a text message to us about the fact that Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. was on. I replied that, after a few episodes, we had given up on the show because it had not sparked our interest.

You’d have thought I slapped his baby. Considering the fact that he doesn’t have children or pets, maybe I did.

A brief (and, I feel the need to point out, good natured) argument ensued about the fact that I should be Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and, for that matter, The Inhumans, because…Marvel. Really, that pretty much seems to be the extent of the argument. I love Marvel comics, and I love the movies, so as a result I should watch anything even tangentially related to those two things.

Not my style.  When it comes to entertainment I’m particularly picky in that regard. I’m not going to support something just because I, in theory, should. If a Marvel series sucks, I’m not watching it. If a Marvel movie doesn’t work for me, I’m going to say so (I’m looking at you, Thor: Ragnarok). If my local sports franchises suck I’m not going to waste my time watching them on television, and I’m certainly not dropping the significant coin required to see them play live (and if, for some reason, a sports franchise from another metropolitan area is doing well and catches my attention I’ll feel no guilt about rooting that team on).

If I have learned anything balancing work, school, family, and acting over the last 16 years, it’s that the single most precious thing in my life is my time. It’s a gift I can give to the people who care about me, and it’s a commodity I stockpile because there are periods when I feel like I simply do not have enough of it. I’m certainly not going to spend it consuming entertainment out of some sense of loyalty if it isn’t actually worth the investment.

 

250

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250 words.

On the surface it doesn’t seem that hard, and yet I’m sitting here wondering what the hell I was thinking when I decided to take on this “challenge.”

Let me back up a step.

A few weeks ago Sam Falco, a friend and (if I’m being honest) someone who I consider to be a bit of a mentor, tweeted about a 14-day, 250 words per day writing challenge that he was taking on. The point was just to write, essentially. Kind of like Morning Pages, I suppose, but instead of being stream-of-consciousness writing that nobody was supposed to read the point was to get the work out there in front of others.  I kept tabs on him during the challenge, making sure to poke him when I hadn’t seen a post go up on a given day and thoroughly enjoying what he put out there. Several of the pieces he wrote made me want to reply in kind, but mostly it just reminded me of how much I used to write back before the days of Twitter and Facebook.

I miss those days.

All those factors combine with another pretty big one. Today is the first day, pretty much since 2001, that I am no longer a student. I have completed the coursework for my second Masters degree, and I am just waiting for the final grades to come in before I can officially say I have earned my Masters in Business Administration. It’s been a very long, very hard, and very expensive journey. It feels odd to know that part of my life is over. On the plus side, I have a very strong desire to put some of the things back into my life that went by the wayside while I was finishing up school. Acting, for one. Reading for pleasure is a big one in there too. And, of course, my writing.

So. 14-day challenge. I’m generally scornful of the whole challenge thing, so we’ll see what happens. I may end up cheating and pulling out a few of the many unfinished drafts that are clogging up my WordPress Administrator, but we’ll see. Maybe I’ll just enjoy expressing myself in more than 280 characters for a change.

We’ll see.

The song currently stuck in my head is…

What’s Next?

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It has been, quite literally, years since I have sat down to write anything for personal reasons. I’ve written for work, and I’ve written for school, but beyond occasional forays in attempting to update my Morning Pages, I haven’t sat down to just write about or for myself. I don’t know exactly why, to be honest. I mean, I have theories. Lack of anyone actually giving a shit about what I have to say pretty much tops that list. In the world of social media, long form personal posts seem like quaint old relics from days gone by, and the effort that goes into creating them seems wasted. After all, if we’re being completely honest with ourselves, having an audience is really the only reason one writes for public consumption.

 

I’m also tired. So very tired. I’m in the final semester of my educational career. I have eleven more weeks of what looks to be an absolute grind before I finish my Masters of Business Administration at the University of Maryland University College. I took a three-year break from school after earning my Associates Degree in 2008, and with the exception of one semester have been in school non-stop since the Spring of 2011. In that time I’ve earned a Bachelor’s Degree and my first Master’s Degree. When I considered my current career path it made sense to enroll in the Dual MBA program at my school and take on another year of courses, but I’d be lying if I said that it hasn’t been a monumental challenge to keep up. Every time I look at the course work for this final class I feel an overwhelming sense of anxiety and wonder if there is any possible way I can get everything done. I’ve had this feeling often throughout my academic career, and my wife always reminded me that every time I’ve felt that way I’ve proved myself wrong, but this time feels different.

 

I suppose it always does.

 

I’m going to be glad when it is over, though. I’m ready for the next chapter of my life, the one that doesn’t involve going to school, to begin. I’m ready to get back on stage (I decided, after realizing how intense the DMBA program was, not to audition for any more shows in 2017). I’m ready to take vacations where I don’t have to worry about having an Internet connection so that I can log in and get course work done. I’m ready to try and find a love of reading again, because the amount I’ve had to do for school has made me absolutely loathe picking up a book unless I absolutely have to. I’m just ready to move on.

 

Of course moving on from school means facing the reality of paying back my student loans, which at this point are the equivalent of a second mortgage, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. Unlike many folks who graduate from school with large debt, I’ve already established a career that will, at the very least, make it somewhat less painful to pay them back.

 

My current state of tiredness is also the result of a much more immediate situation. Last week, Hurricane Irma decided to pay a visit to our state. When the track shifted to put the eye directly over our area late Friday night, Lisa and I decided that it was wise to get the hell out of dodge. We packed up the animals and my son and took off to shelter with friends in Jacksonville. Ironically, the storm seemed to take a much harsher toll on that area, mainly due to flooding, but we still came through unscathed. When we returned home on Tuesday our power was out, and it wasn’t restored until days later. I’m incredibly grateful that a loss of electricity was the worst damage we faced as a result of the storm, but I cannot emphasize enough the amount of psychological stress I feel during power outages. It’s hard to explain in a way that doesn’t make me sound like a spoiled, petulant brat. Our home is my sanctuary. In a world where I often feel I have very little control over my destiny, the house we share is a place where I feel I have control. It’s clean and orderly, because that makes us happy. It’s filled with things that are important to us. It’s where we spend the majority of our time together, and to be perfectly honest spending time at home with Lisa is pretty much my favorite thing in the entire universe. When that is disrupted, say with a lack of electricity, I am an absolute mess. When I don’t look forward to going home at night, I cannot think straight. I’m irritable. I’m distracted. It’s just a horrible experience for me, and I’m sure everyone around me. Even now, several days after the storm has passed and power has been restored, I’m still off-kilter. I’m sure the fact that I ate a bunch of really horrible food and drank way too much during the days of the storm isn’t helping, either.

 

It’s funny, though. One of my biggest issues about dealing with the lack of power is the accompanying lack of air conditioning, but as I write this I’m voluntarily sitting outside and it’s pretty damned hot. I suppose it’s ultimately the difference between choosing to sit outside in the heat and being forced to because it’s even more miserably oppressive inside.

 

I also have a fan on, so there’s that.

 

I don’t know. Maybe some of how I’m feeling is straight-up mid-life crisis. I’m staring down the barrel of 45. I’ve accomplished a hell of a lot in my life, I know, and I’m well aware that a good deal of what I’ve accomplished is because I’ve busted my ass to get here. I’ve been a good employee and a good student. I’ve done my best to be a good husband and a good father, but I’ve screwed that up on more than one occasion. I see those meme’s that ask whether or not the eight-year old version of you would be proud of where you are now, and I just don’t know. I mean, I’m not a Jedi so that would certainly be a bummer for him. But what would he say about me being an Agile Coach? What would he think about the fact that I’m not a famous actor or some sort of world-class software developer? What would he think about how my love for all things “geek” has diminished significantly over the course of the last few years? Would he think I was lame?

 

Hard to say, really. Unlike many people I know, I don’t actually look back on my childhood/teenage self with fondness. I was…kind of horrible really, both physically and mentally. I was a spoiled, selfish brat, and (especially in my teenage years) the epitome of the much-reviled nerdy “nice guy.” So, really, if the younger version of me wouldn’t be impressed with middle-aged me, that might not be such a bad thing.

 

But where do I go from here? I’ve got a fantastic career, with a company that I can honestly say I’d be content working for until I retire in 20 (or more) years. I have an amazing wife. I have a home. My son, despite some rocky years there at the end of his teens, is happy and doing well living on his own. I take multiple vacations every year. I don’t have to worry about paying the bills or keeping food on the table. I can pretty much indulge myself on any minor purchase that may flit its way through my head, which has for years been my benchmark of true “success” in life (I’ve always said that I’d know I’d made it when I could walk into a book store and purchase any book I wanted without having to worry about whether or not I could actually afford it…the irony there being that, as I mentioned above, I really don’t like reading very much any more). While I’m not a household name, I have had a long and successful career acting professionally in the Tampa Bay area, and the main hallway in our home is adorned with posters from the many shows I have been in over the course of the last sixteen years.

 

So, in the immortal words of Josiah Bartlett, “What’s Next?”

 

It’s a question I don’t know the answer to. Perhaps when I decide to write another blog post in two years I’ll have figured it out.

They Moved My Cheese

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Kanban board

Sharpies are important

When I decided to start this blog, my plan was to chronicle my experience as a member of middle management and my possible path further up the corporate ladder. I should have remembered that old saying about best-laid plans and what not, because a week after I created this blog and put up my first post my proverbial cheese got moved.

A lot.

Nothing bad, mind you. I didn’t lose my job or anything dramatic like that. I was asked to take on the role of Scrum Master/Agile Coach at my organization.

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All animals are equal, but some are more equal than others.

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QTQE_rrBe_g

It’s 6 AM on the day before Dragon Con here in Atlanta. I had a crappy night of sleep due to some poor dining choices I made yesterday, and I haven’t even finished my first cup of coffee yet, so there’s a very real possibility that this post is going to get a little cranky.

But the subject makes me cranky, so it might have gone that way regardless.

After doing a major pruning of my friends list I started using Facebook again about a month ago. For the most part? It’s been a pretty pleasant experience. I no longer have to skim through pages of updates and posts that I really didn’t give a crap about to see updates from people who I actually want to stay connected to. That’s cool. Thing is, I still see some things that get my blood boiling. One of those things can be summed up in the use of the #AllLivesMatter hashtag (or the general attitude that is represented by that hashtag, even if it isn’t being used).

I want to say I get it, and that I understand the frustration, but I simply don’t. I can’t see how, with the massive amount of information we as a a people we have available to us in the information age, it’s not possible to see how there are major issues in our country regarding race that simply can’t be wiped away by insisting that people “stop playing the race card.”

What really bugs me about this is that more often than not this quiet racism is cloaked in comments about (primarily) African-American and Latino culture here in the country. “Those people” would do so much better in their lives if they would just “pull their pants up”, “learn how to speak properly”, and “stop acting like thugs.”

So, in other words, they should act more like a proper white person.

Ironically, these same people never seem to make those kind of comments about other whites unless said caucasian acts “ghetto”. I mean, while there are certainly exceptions to the rule you don’t often see your typical trailer park redneck contribute much to the betterment of society. See a picture of a white guy holding an assault rifle and standing in front of his pick up truck? Many likes! Yay, America! See a picture of a black guy holding the same rifle in front of his BMW? OMG THUGS!!

It’s gross.

I guess I’m speaking up about this now, and in a very public way, because I’ve had a bit of a personal epiphany. Not too long ago I had a relative refer to an African-American woman who was in an old velvet painting as a “jungle bunny.” He did this in my house, within earshot of children, and I said nothing. I’ve been disgusted with myself ever since. I’ve put up with this kind of thing from people I know for far too long, and I simply can’t ignore it any more. Which means I’m likely to continue having some very awkward conversations with people who I genuinely care for if I continue using Facebook.

Or I’m just going to unfriend them…or leave the service altogether.

I frankly don’t know.

What I do know is that I can no longer sit by while the pigs take over the farm.