I spend most of most days sitting at home, in my home office, in front of my laptop. I sit here, under a photo of Bobby Orr’s “The Goal”, and I type away. I chat, and I make those funny comments on Facebook, I tweet, I email, and I write stories.
I still tell people how great it is to work late at night when the family has gone to bed, “because there are no interruptions, the phone won’t ring”, but I don’t know why I say that. The phone never rings.
Today, I wrote a new “fear column” for Aalto EE’s Profile, and realized I probably hadn’t posted my previous one so here it is.
Fear is a survival mechanism. Fear keeps us alert, on our toes. And it’s primal. According to neuroscientific research, the neural circuitry underlying fear is highly conserved in mammalian species, from rats to humans. In other words, fear mechanisms and systems are so fundamental that they’ve been carried over through the biggest of changes, the many, many slow changes that have made us us: the evolution.
Sometimes life really imitates art. My life real art. The other day, visiting Dad, Son and I walked to the car to get his flashlight, so that he could sleep in a little playhouse in the backyard. On our way back, I thought it’d be smarter to walk around the house and go straight to the backyard through the back door.
I have about 400 friends on Facebook. One of them is my mother. Right now, her status is, “another CrossFit torture awaits tomorrow.”
If you don’t know what CrossFit is, I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. I don’t know what it is, either. I mean, I can guess that it’s some kind of a workout method, and based on what Mom told me, it’s really good. Weights, and balance, and stretching, and more balance. Agility, too. All great things for anyone, but as Mom told me, “important stuff as you get older.”
It’s no surprise that I didn’t know what CrossFit was, or is. I’m the guy who still has the exact same workout regime he had 15 years ago. It’s actually true. When I do go to the gym, Friday is still my leg day, and I do the same exercises I’ve always done.
“I’ve never seen you cry”
– Son, a few months ago
Well, he’s just not been there because I do cry. Ask Wife. I cry when the world treats me unfairly or when my kids do yet another wonderful thing and the emotions are just too much for me to keep under control.
I cry out of pride and I cry out of pain.
Different kinds of tears, I know. They even taste different.
Part I: Urinals
1. As soon as you have located the urinals – a task that may be difficult when entering a rest room for the first time – you should position yourself at the first available one. Note: available. If the closest one already has an individual occupying it, the first available one is not the one next to him, but the one next to that one. Only when there are only two urinals in the restroom, should you place yourself right next to another person urinating.
By Son.
The CEO stood in front of the entire staff, all of them dressed in casual summer clothes, and recapped the assignment that was about to cap off the official part of the conference. One more push and then they all would get back on a boat, get back to the mainland, and go have dinner at a nice restaurant.
But first, the assignment, the creative challenge that would also – hopefully – generate some solid ideas that the CEO could then use in sales. With about 40 great minds gathered in one place, she went for the kill.
“So, your assignment is to create a magazine concept for Marimekko,” she announced.
In another time, some time ago, even before I used sugar water to comb my fair like Fonzie, and before I had a crush on Julie on Love Boat, back when I used to play cowboy, this town was my summer town where things were done a little differently than at home.
I didn’t even notice the first note myself. My buddy did. We were running late to our next class so I just shoved my jacket into my locker and grabbed my biology book, then locked my locker, when he picked it up from the floor.
“Hey, you dropped this,” he said, and handed me a piece of paper that had been carefully folded over a couple of times, just enough to conceal its message, but keeping it thin enough to fit through the small opening under the locker door.
