Before I officially assumed the mantle of Resident Assistant of Eight South in Thomas Jefferson Hall many years ago, I went through some great training. I still use it today. However, there was some direction that I decided to ignore. It didn't match my personality, and I figured I could handle it. I had about 30 students on my floor, and one of them was named Jason. Jason wasn't like the rest of the residents. Well, truth be told, they were all different from each other, but Jason was special. He always dressed very nicely, and appeared to be a clean cut student. You would only get a feeling of concern when you looked him in the eyes, and noticed that smirk of ill will that he wore all the time. He was what we called in the RA community, a difficult customer. His goal was to push the limits of what was allowed. He wouldn't break it completely so that he would get in trouble, but put time and forethought into his actions in an attempt to say that he hadn't really done anything wrong. He carved holes in the wall and said he'd fix it before he left. He did try, but did a crappy job. He was known as Satan on our floor, and it was a name that he had offered up, and smiled gleefully when it was used. He was crafty, and difficult to pin down; just like he wanted. I hated writing reports on my residents. That was the part that I didn't follow from my instruction. After a few months with Jason, I started doing it. I had lengthy talks about him with my director, pointing out that he didn't blatantly break the rules, but pushed them consistently further than they were meant to go. That's when he said I needed to start documenting his behavior. So? I did. He ended up getting a hefty file in the residence hall. He would at times go complain about it. He was too savvy to say that I was picking on him, but pushed his thinking on the directors as well. "I didn't really do anything wrong, did I?" The next year, he was banned from the residence hall as he took his post in a fraternity. That next year, I was the Head Resident Assistant. I helped supervise sixteen RAs and 750 residents. Frankly, I sucked at it, and that's why I don't want to go into management. I was a great RA (Jason notwithstanding), but I was a mediocre Head RA. I had enough residents that would come to me instead of their own RA that I could have had my own floor again. I liked helping them, and didn't find that I could help my RA staff as well as I could help the residents.

That said, as Head RA I found Jason wandering the halls one day. I informed him that he wasn't allowed there, and escorted him out. He left willingly with that smirk on his face that he always wore. He went to the Director of Residential Life and said that it was unfair, and I was picking on him. The Director pulled out a stack of files on Jason, and politely told him that he had burned his bridges and was no longer welcome. I was so pleased to have management back me up. That's probably why the Director had me give a lengthy session on Dealing with the Difficult Customer when I put the RAs through training.

I'm worried that I am raising a Difficult Customer. Annie does everything beautifully when she as at home. She knows the boundaries and really doesn't push them anymore. She does her chores, does her homework, does what I ask her to do, needing very few reminders, and expressing very little attitude. However, last Friday I discovered that she has a different behavior when she is not at home. Her controlling nature pushes the limits. She hurt two of her friends physically, and I talked to some parents that indicated that she had repeatedly hurt the feelings of a couple of other friends. Not having had the experience of my workshop of Dealing with the Difficult Customer, I think these things have gone on largely outside of my being informed as they were considered to be inconsequential. Someone telling Annie that they are going to inform her father of her behavior immediately brings fear to her eyes. I never strike her, but just like when I was a kid, being told that her daddy is disappointed with her sets her off.

I've talked to some parents, and wrote a two-page letter to the teacher explaining Annie's change in behavior following the marital separation, and hope that people know enough now to inform me of everything, and not just when it hits the fan. She is strong willed, and can take control of any situation if given the opportunity. I like that, but recognize that it needs to be tempered with compassion. We are going to watch Lord of the Flies this week... We'll read the book when she gets older, and we'll continue to work on using our thoughts and drive to make things better for all, not just for us. I see Dale Carnegie's How to Win Friends and Influence People on her horizon as a teenager...

Struggling...

I've just finished submitting my travel report for my trip to Huntsville. Part of this was reviewing the surveys that the folks filled out on my talk. I find these things sometimes enlightening, and sometimes frustrating. There is one part where they indicate my greatest strength in the presentation. I'm not sure what I like to hear best, but I'm generally pleased that the response is typically either my passion or my knowledge. Sometimes it's my humor. Engineers are often fairly dry in humor, so I like that one quite a bit. I'm often told that I'm entertaining because of my passion for the subject matter. What can I say? I'm a passionate kind of guy...

The survey is kind of funky in my opinion, and there are some people that I think mistakenly say that I suck, when they didn't mean it. No, I'm not just being arrogant. They make other comments that suggest they are very pleased, but when they check the scales, some people assume that a "1" is good, and a "5" is bad, and they don't look at the top headings. Once in Toronto, and now in Huntsville, I had one survey that really did think I sucked. Each time, I can tell exactly who it was. This time it was guy who suggested that I was wrong by the fourth slide. I stood by my thoughts, and reminded him that I was not saying that he should change his approach. After I responded, I asked if I had answered his question adequately, and he just nodded, and went silent with that look of irritation through the rest of the presentation. It's unfortunate, but I recognize that I can't please everyone every time. Just ask my ex-wives. I take these things statistically. I figure if 39 people say I was stellar, and one person says I suck that maybe it was as much him as me.

Unfortunately, I subscribe to Jean Paul Sartre's philosophy that "we are doomed to a life of responsibility." The screen interface had some issues, and my slides were shown horribly on the screen. I claimed responsibility when I started, although there was nothing I could do about it. I got dinged on that in several surveys, as well as the microphone not always working very well. Granted, at one point it was because I had put my hand in my pocket, and accidentally turned it off! Idiot.

Ultimately, I'm pleased with the results. There were a few people that indicated that I had touched on something they were currently struggling with, and I provided them with the answer they had been seeking. That rocks. I love being able to help people do what they need to do to be successful. I hope it works for them, and I hope they drop me a line saying that they fixed the problem. I'll not hold my breath on that one...

Proud of me, for once...

I have returned from my whirlwind trip to Huntsville, Alabama. It was great. The travel sucked, actually. I got up at three yesterday morning, and shot down the road to the airport. The plane rides weren't too bad, and I headed off to the hotel feeling extremetly tired. I dealt with incompetence at the hotel, and made it to my room. Every time I stay at a "cheap" hotel, I swear I won't do it again. It adds stress where I don't need it. "Oh, sorry, the person that made the reservation scheduled you for October. She's new." I'm staring at my reservation confirmation to make sure I didn't screw up, and I didn't. Fortunately, they were able to accomodate me. I had an hour to shower off my travel grime, check work e-mail, and head off to the meeting location. I found the room in a large and wonderfully designed complex of buildings. A huge buffet of food greeted me, which was good because I was starved. The room was filling up, and I met the coordinator to discuss last minute details. We tried out my presentation to find that the projector available was... well, a piece of crappola. Many colors just didn't show. Fortunately, he had printed out my handouts in color, so the guests could follow. I hadn't looked at the presentation in months, so with his encouragement, I filled a plate with fried chicken, coleslaw, baked beans, and sat down to review.

It's a strange thing, but I do a better job with a full house than I do with a few scattered people. I've presented to more, but the sixty people that showed up made me feel great. I was introduced after they did the typical chapter house cleaning and I started my part. I was exhausted, but caffeine and the obvious attentiveness of enough people got me going. My hands were waving, my jokes were flying, and technological thought was being communicated both ways. Within five minutes I picked out the guy who wasn't going to like me no matter what, and kept going. Frankly, I was on. One person asked a question about a layout diagram that I had that was very convulted, and admitted that he was dealing with something like that himself, and wanted my thoughts on a couple of key issues. He indicated that when he looked at it too long his eyes went cross-eyed. Without missing a beat, I told him that if he stared at it long enough like that he'd see a boat. I thought it was hysterical, and so did 60% of the people who got the connection to those 3-D images that I've never been able to see...

We had a great conversation and transfer of information for over two hours, even given the A/V issues (I accidentally turned off the mic at one point). After the session, I had a number of people that came up for clarification on a few finer points, and I love that.

Before the audience was released, the Chapter Chair gave me a gift for coming out there. No offense to the other chapters I've visited, but this was the most thought out and sincere presentation I had ever been given. They gave me a beautifully framed certificate of appreciation, a gift card to Borders, and two jars of "regional" specialities: Alabama honey and sorghum syrup. I could have cried. They are wonderful people, and I'm very grateful for the opportunity to come and talk to them. To top it all off, the conference room was on the fifth floor with a side wall that was completely glass. Out of the window I could see a couple of NASA rockets errected for view on the landscape. That is so freakin' cool.

The three hour experience with them made the travel issues seem inconsequential. I really, really like doing this. Yes, I found the review that I'm sure was from that one person that was irritated with me early on. It happens, and as much as I'd like it not to, I'll take the other 59 reviews that were very pleased as the dominant review. This was particularly important to me because the Huntsville Chapter had never invited an EMC Distinguished Lecturer, and when they decided to do so, they unanimously decided on me. Me. David Hockanson. I'm honored beyond words. I hope that the experience will encourage them to continue to take advantage of the program.

Sweet Home Alabama... Where the skies are so blue...

I had no idea I could get this consumed with my time. I should have, and made pretty good use of my time before, but this is ridiculous. I know it is only going to get worse, so adjusting to this is probably a good thing.

The morning was the usual thing. We got up, did our chores, and got ready for school and work. We were both a little slow because Annie started crying last night. I don't know why. It probably had something to do with her falling off the bed at two o'clock and hitting her head on the bed frame, and her feet on the dresser. We made it to school in good time, and she went to play with a friend, which meant I could leave early and rush home to finish my board review. Around lunch time, I sped off to a Curriculum Council meeting for the school. I was there for two hours before I had to leave (early) to pick up Annie for horse riding lessons. I felt guilty for missing work, so I punched on the keyboard while Annie trotted around and continued her training for over an hour.

We got home, and I intended to work when we got here. No such luck. I worked for an hour or so while Annie read and had a snack, and then we started homework while I made lunch for tomorrow and dinner for tonight. I also assembled a piece of equipment I received via UPS today. After school homework, I helped Annie work on her horse riding homework. Yes, we get homework for these lessons. Annie ate dinner while I finished my equipment assembly and did some work. After dinner, she wanted to practice riding her bike, which I watched with admiration and trepidation given our hilly enviroment and messed up driveway. I tried to work, but was relegated to answering scattered e-mails, and corresponding with a co-worker... not much in-depth thinking for work. Annie was done, so we went inside and she packed for her sleepover with her friend while I'm in Alabama Thursday night. My flight leaves at 6:30 am, so she has to stay tomorrow night as well. I hate it, but when I started this, I thought it would be good for my carreer. Not sure anymore. Now it's just another commitment I have that I refuse to back down on because I said I'd do it. I hope Annie learns from this. Once you commit to something or someone, you have to see it through completion, and do everything you can to make it right. That left about a half hour for her to veg in front of the TV before bed. I hate the TV, but it is useful to create that down time before bed, and encourage sleep. Now it's time for bed, and frankly, I'm ready, too.

Maybe I can veg on the plane. I need some vegitation time...

Tired...

I've recently been advised that I should forget some things from my past. This came from several different people regarding two completely different subjects. It's very strange. I hear this kind of thing so often, that I've come to the belief that I remember things sickeningly well. Maybe most people do this, but the response I get when I relate some past experience is generally, "how do you remember that?"

I don't remember things out of choice. Trust me. I'd remember better things if I could. You could introduce me to someone, and five minutes later, I'd forget their name. I was horrible at history in school, except for History of Technology. If it hits a cord with me, I remember it. Granted, it's been about fifteen years since History of Technology, so it would take some diving into the darkness of my psyche to pull it out. That said, I still can pull out in an instant everything I learned about cathedral construction during the Middle Ages. See how strange it is?

The brain is very much like a computer. I'm not sure that it is a coincidence. Computer cores have memory assigned to them that is very quickly accessed and stores things that will be needed soon. Imagine adding three numbers that you see. If the numbers truly only require three additions, you don't write it down (multiple digit numbers generally require more summations in the brain, so don't start). You store the sum of the first two, and then add the third. Other levels of memory are designed to handle different levels of speed and need. We do the same thing. If there is something you need to remember, and want it available but don't want to really focus on it, you write it down. Computers do the same thing. They write things to a hard drive or other memory device that sits and waits for the computer core to ask for it.

Neural networks are named for the attempted replication of the brain. Familiar routines are memorized and kept easily accessed. When a new routine is discovered that has frequent utility, it is memorized. Regular routines are reviewed for faster and more accurate access and delivery. All this seems based on the human brain. I'm probably wrong, but the fastest computer on earth is still the human brain. You can add 2 plus 2 every bit as fast as a computer. Some may argue with me, and I'm used to it...

At any rate, my memory simply doesn't work in a way that allows me to remove things. I don't actually think anyone's does. As I understand it, the brain creates stronger links to memories stored based on the emotional impact of the event. As an example, we dream every night. Don't argue with me... we do. Most of our dreams (unless you are weird like me) are completely mundane things that get absorbed into your thoughts innocently and without connection. You ate lunch with some co-workers today, you watered a plant, you made lunch for your kid. Your brain doesn't assign significance to these, and so you don't think about it in the morning. That's the way the brain works.

The key is that the regulator in your brain has to deem the thought or experience as significant. We all have different opinions on what that means, and our "regulator" has its own programming. My brain seems to think that too many things are significant. I think memories are generally stored with a trigger. You might hear something, smell something, or see something, maybe even taste something that triggers the synaptic trigger that makes you recall a memory that has been stored deep in your cortex. Sometimes the memories are stored for so long, or there is something so terrible about them that the brain breaks the connection, and it takes serious work to make the connection... a constant diving into reconnecting lost pathways and finding the memory stored deep in the recesses of the mind.

My mind doesn't seem to sever the links. I can recall too many things too quickly. It makes me very, very good at my job, but it is a major downer personally. I'm 36 years old, and I can remember the first time I rode a two-wheeled bike, the nightmares I had when I was three, my very first kiss, the first time I had sex, the only tackle I ever made playing football, getting my glasses broke playing basketball at lunch... Those seem like easy things, but I recall so, so much more, and they don't go away. They are always present, and the most significant come up in my dreams/nightmares every night.

It's just the way my mind works. I can't change it, and frankly, I don't want to. In some ways it works very, very well for me... just not in my personal life, and Annie doesn't notice it...


I'll remember you said that...

I'm working on the deck right now. Annie has graciously agreed to entertain herself (and torture Lilo) while I compile the data I took yesterday, and write a report on my findings.

While I sit out here and punch on the computer, cones are falling out of the redwoods. Redwood cones are only about one inch in diameter, so no big deal, right? Wrong. These cones are small and falling from about 150 feet (some more, some less). Small and round, I figure I can neglect wind resistance. If my geek-brained calculations are correct, they are moving at about 65 mph when they hit the deck. Hence the loud pops I hear every now and then. One of them hit a plastic case that I have some tools in, and I had to check to make sure it hadn't broken. Ok, they are slowed down by branches below them, so they aren't really moving 65 mph, but I'm sure if it hits me, I'll get a big knot on the head, and if it hits my computer, I'll be sending it in for repairs again, this time with a crater in the keyboard... The impact usually breakes the cones into pieces, leaving shell fragments all over the deck.


Living on the edge...

I took my "fixed" computer with me to work today. I had a hardwire connection in the lab, so didn't care about the wireless crap not working. However, since I was over the hill, I threatened it. While I was waiting for some data to plot, I tried to update the driver one.more.time. It said it didn't work, and I said fine. I'll buy a freakin' adapter card, and bypass the on-board thing altogether. I got home, got ready to install the card, and what do you know? Everything started working perfectly. I'm not taking the card back, though. I don't trust it to behave itself indefinitely.

If that doesn't work, maybe I'll just step on it...

I just grabbed something out of the refrigerator. I figure I should eat once a day. More would be preferred, but it seldom happens. I know the refrigerator is just a box, but what's inside has apparently developed intelligence. With Annie being home only on weekends over the summer, I haven't been very good about keeping the refrigerator/freezer stocked. The food that has been in there, however, has evolved. After nine o'clock, I swear that a voice tells me to "turn that damned light off!" when I open the door. I have to ask permission before I make my food choices. "Can I make a sandwich?" "Yeah, but be quick about it," comes a voice from the darker corners of the fridge. Before Annie returned home for our school schedule, I cleaned the whole thing. A lot of food went to the trash. The sour cream was having a party that I simply couldn't deal with. The milk was developing tools for breaking out of the carton. I don't know how it created a drill, but I got to it just before escape.

The vegetables had disintegrated into primordial ooze. It was waiting for a spark from the light bulb to spawn life. The fruit was slightly ahead of the plan. I think there was a complete Egyptian culture in there. I was revered as a god when I opened the drawer, but decided I had to smite my worshippers anyway... The lunch meat had constructed a defensive layer. It didn't help them as I hauled the pack to the trash, but I guess the filmy layer of residue was supposed to make potential attackers fall to the way side while they escaped.

I think it is under control. The only concern is that when I pulled the pork chops out of the fridge a little while ago, I could swear that a voice said, "make sure you cook it all the way through."

Unintential Genetic Engineer...

Yeah, I'm an idiot sometimes. I spent most of the day preparing for going to the lab tomorrow. After I finished what I can do with the test fixture, I started in on e-mail. I was getting ready to respond to someone, when I suddenly thought, "what the F am I doing?" I'm irritated with my job already, why did it infect my Saturday. Then again, why am I going in to the lab tomorrow. Oh yeah, I want to at least feel like I'm doing the right thing. So, tomorrow I'll be in the lab measuring emissions from the box that I assembled today. Annie comes home Monday, and hopefully we'll do something fun. It might just be hide-n-seek, but at least I'll get to hear her laugh...

Removing own foot from my own derriere...

That's right. I said it. My "primary" notebook came back today from repairs. I realize that I'm hard on stuff. About every six to nine months, I have to send my notebook in for repair. Thank goodness for extended warranties. I don't know what I do. I write so hard on paper that I can't use mechanical pencils, maybe I type so hard or point at the screen so hard or store data so hard that the systems just can not handle me. That's me, and despite my attempts to be a gentler, kinder computer user, it happens. However, give me a freakin' break. I was excited to be off this dog of a subsitute, and on to my "work horse" only to find that the wireless connection doesn't work. Personally, I don't see the point of a notebook computer without wireless connectivity (sorry, Tiffany). When it comes to compute power, notebooks always get the short end of the stick, or battery, actually. I ran between Annie and the computer most of the night trying to download and install drivers. Knowing a little about the volume industry, I figured they replaced my motherboard with one that had a different wireless transceiver, and I needed new drivers. No luck. On a whim, I put in the DVD that came with it originally. It told me it wasn't the right computer. I can't even re-install windows if I have to (legally). That was pretty much the end of the attempt. I e-mailed the people who "fixed" it for advice.

On another note, Annie and I had a great day together. I picked her up from school, and we went off to see... well, a therapist. Let's face it. People tell me all the time that I shouldn't expect to do everything on my own. I'd seen this therapist a few years ago, and figured since she knew the situation, she might be able to help Annie through some of her struggles. The outcome of that is to be determined. Annie had a good time, which is great given that when I picked her up at school she was almost in tears because someone made fun of her backpack. We talked about it as we walked hand-in-hand across the field to get to the truck. She was over it in three minutes. That's why I'm the Daddy...

After therapy, we went to drop off my dry-cleaning, and then to the shoe store. Great googily-moogily, my daughter is becoming a true female. She picked out a pair of shoes that fit (and made her taller - as if she needs it), and then we kept looking just in case she found a pair she liked better. My plan had been the whole time to pick out two pair, but I hadn't told her, yet. Another family had been there longer than us, but Annie shops like me: seek and destroy. Don't cross our path. You'd probably see us do hand signs that would indicate that we were going to take you out. Ok, for Annie and me that would be she gets down on all fours behind you, and I push you over her, but it would be bad nonetheless. In no time we had tried on all the "oh, I like those" shoes, and were choosing between two pairs. I told her we would just get both, and she just glowed. Her face creased with a smile with her hands clasped below her chin in excitement. She put one of the pairs on, and we paid for the other new pair, and a box with her old ones in it. The whole time she chattered about how she would wear one set of ear rings with one set of shoes, and another with the other. She glided on air as we left the parking lot, and went to McDonald's for dinner.

We arrived home, after spending another small fortune on fuel for the truck. I started downloading on the computer, while she emptied her backpack. Then we started on homework. I bounced between homework and the computer (didn't I already say something like that), and we got it done. Before we knew it, it was almost bed time. "What do you want to do now?" Hide-n-seek was the answer. We played until bed time, both giggling and sweating from running (silently) to the best hiding spots in the house. Now she is in bed, and my problems with work and computers seem small. Thank whatever diety you believe in that I have my little angel.

Bring it on...