#10 - And Now For Something Completely Different
On committing to not let an opportunity pass by
Over the past few months, I’ve hinted at preparations my wife and I have been making for something coming later this year. I’ve thus far held off on sharing widely details about what exactly we are preparing for for a number of reasons. Among them? I’ve been fence sitting.
I will attempt to be uncharacteristically brief. I have worked in tech/IT for over a decade and a half. I got my start while I was studying for my undergrad and I’ve more or less done it ever since. I’ve enjoyed so much about it and learned a ton, but I have to acknowledge that I landed in the industry industry more or less by accidents of circumstance.
I’ve long entertained impulses to change things up, but never known quite how or to what I would pivot. One such impulse drew me back to college in 2010 to earn a Masters in literature, after which I found another solid IT job. Employment gravity? Maybe. Earning power? Definitely.
About a year and a half ago, my wife and I both knew a change was in order. For me it was a change long since in the cards. For her it was more about figuring out for the first time what she wanted to do. Moving to Maine was step one in a multistep process. We wanted something smaller, something more in line with the speed at which we naturally chug along. We’ve found that in southern Maine, even if it is the most populous part of the state.
Not long after settling into our new home, my wife found fulfilling, interesting work. She’s been at it since the beginning of the year and has been doing a great job. She’s learning a ton and I’m very proud of her (hardly a new feeling). She’s found a good fit, continues to settle in and learn her small and far flung team, and is so looking forward to summer now that we’re both more than 2 weeks post jab #2.
For me, the next step is a drastic career change. I’ve recently left full time employment, and tech/IT, and am now working part time at a bakery downtown. In a month, I will start course work to become a secondary English/Social Studies teacher. I will also become certified to teach English as a second language. I am quite nervous. The uncertainty remains, but I have committed and my wonderful wife has been so very supportive. She had to convince me to take this leap, to allow her to act as my safety net. I’ve not relied on anyone in that way since I was a child.
The next two years will be something altogether different than I’ve experienced in my adult life, but I know this change is the right move for me, for her, for us, and so I am also exceedingly excited.
Watch Your Language
I once worked with someone who bestowed on me the mantel of “word dude.” I love the nuances of language and the consequences of word choice. I have a habit, one that once marked me as a pedant but now seems to just make me a bit particular, of sprinkling into casual conversation unusual and/or esoteric words. I love the contrast between the reason for my brief nickname and the title itself. “Word dude” is so comfortable and informal an address to match with fancy, five-dollar, highfalutin speechifyin’.
The nature and power of words in fantasy literature is fertile ground for a lot of interesting concepts, like the idea of “true names.” These are names which the possessor must never share lest they give over to another a great power to control, possess, or destroy them. The concept has become fairly common in contemporary fantasy literature and has it’s basis in real world taboos regarding language. The following passage about the very real fear of true names comes from Atlas Obscura:
Basically, we are scared of the true names of certain beings or concepts, because to use them might mean we summon them, which we don’t want, or anger them, which we definitely don’t want, or simply make other humans mad at us, which is slightly less bad but still not ideal.
But perhaps that is still a bit too theoretical…
Example 1: If you have reason to fear bears, you might be pretty hesitant to name the suckers.
The Proto-Indo-European root word for bear is “h₂ŕ̥tḱos”. (indecipherable, I know) This is thought of as the creature’s true name in German, which is why the German word for ‘bear’ is ‘bär’. (Side note: clearly English borrowed this word from the Germans.) ‘Bär’ basically means ‘brown one.’ Early German speakers chose not to speak the creatures true name. Meanwhile in places like Spain and France and Greece, all warmed places where bears are more rare, bears are referred to by a modern derivation of the older ‘true name’. Where the creature is a far more real threat, people learned to be scared enough not to mention this true name, just in case.
Example 2: The true name of God
Many religions have rules around how or whether you evoke the true name or image of God. Blasphemy is generally a no-no in all modern religions, and Muslims are bound by scripture (at least according to certain interpretations) from depicting the prophet Mohammed.
In Judaism, speaking the true name of God is a taboo. Even writing the name is done only sparingly, as the paper becomes sacred and must be handled specially thereafter. As a result, Judaism has a large number of substitute names or abbreviations for referring to God without breaking the rules, lest his wrath come down. (more here)
In both cases, modern speakers use what is called a taboo deformation, a phrase which has taken parts of the original word or phrase and changes phoneme sounds enough to mask the taboo word without causing complete confusion. Atlas Obscura points to a strange one I think most native English speakers have heard, whether they’ve given it any thought or not: dagnabbit.
Dagnabbit is a word I can remember saying as a boy as a way to get away with kinda sorta cussing (I should look into why some folks say cursing and others cussing). Little did I know it is a taboo deformation of the word (apologies) goddammit. Say them both in your heard, and you can’t unhear it.
I’ll leave it there and recommend the Atlas Obscura article. Really cool stuff.
Gardening Update
May 5th is the average last frost date for our little slice of southern Maine. This is the date I’ve been targeting with all my overly ambitious gardening plans. I’ve started tons of seeds, indoors and out, and hardened and planted all with this date in mind.
So far, so good. The winter was mild and we haven’t had any frost to speak of near the coast, thought inland saw one the last week of April. It’s actually ben rather hot until the tail end of May. Thing is, the frost is but one worry.
I’ve never gardened on my own, and the last time I was in a garden in any capacity I was 10 and had a lot of adult guidance. I’ve not had a ton of success with house plants—they tend to flounder or survive, never flourish. Of course I didn’t fold any of this into my plans. Instead, I went full bore into this thing and the chances are I will see limited success and a lot of lessons. Pessimism can be such a blessing—when it seems all will fail, that one thing that goes right is a real treat.
In addition to (and largely because of) my inexperience, there are lots of other pitfalls both ongoing and forthcoming:
Poor seedling performance: a decent number of initially promising sprouts let me down. Lettuces are particularly hard to keep going. I’m certainly to blame at least some of the time but it can’t all be me, can it?
Shocking my transplants: Transitioning my indoor seedlings outside has been irregular at best. I “damped off” (read: drowned) a number of early seedlings, shocked many others, and lost a couple of trays to gale force winds.
Squirrels: My wife says I’m becoming a true New Englander with my hatred of squirrels. They keep unearthing my shallots, killing immature seedlings, and generally digging about despite putting up (clearly inadequate) pest fences.
There are enough reasons for hope to keep us chugging along. I’ve received many compliments from passing neighbors, and even one from a city bus driver who stopped en route to chat. We bought some well established berry brambles and asparagus roots (so many spears already!) and hops that stand a solid chance. We picked up some transplants at a local high school booster sale, and they really put my own to shame. I’ve been direct sowing where I don’t have much faith that my transplants will take hold. Not all of my early season plants are struggling—cabbage, broccoli, kale, chard, potatoes, and some others are looking…honestly, really great. We even had a tiny arugula and basil salad already. Honestly, I’m quite pleased with the growth I’ve seen as yet so early in the season.
All in all, something will grow and I’ll definitely have learned a thing or two. I remain cautiously optipessmistic.
Signal Lost…Signal Found
Signal, the excellent end-to-end encrypted chat app, ran afoul of Facebook and had their ad account disabled. Their crime? Being too honest with ad recipients about the data Facebook collects and makes available for multi-variant targeted ads. These are as creepy as they are hilarious.
Signal wasn’t trying to sell anything (the audacity). The company was putting it’s money where it’s mouth is; they were paying to run ads which call out the privacy invasion central to Facebook’s bottom line. The only expected return? Consumer education of targeted ad mechanics. Instead, they got a two-fer thanks to Facebook’s response. Sure, the story will be seen by fewer people than the ads might have been, but Facebook’s choice to ban their ad account makes for a funny, if wholly expected, story and a great headline. Read more on their blog.
A
Every year on his birthday, Kevin Kelly posts “bits of unsolicited advice” on his blog. They are often humorous and pithy maxims, the kinds of little bits of advice that stick in your head long after you’ve forgotten where you heard them.
Kelly has had an impressive career. He founded Wired magazine in the early ’90s and before that edited the Whole Earth Review, an interesting utopian publication about the coming technological future which ran from the mid-’80s to the mid-’00s. The latter was a bit too optimistic about the promise of tech in my opinion, but it came from a place that was so wholesome and genuine that to dismiss it now feels highly cynical.
Kevin Kelly turned 68 in April 2020 and recognized the occasion with 68 bits of advice. 6 weeks or so into COVID lockdown, the list was a welcome read for my disjointed mind. It gave me—and based on the number of sources I saw share the link, many others—something to glom onto. Over a month or so, I illustrated every bit of advice in a small pocket notebook:
I’m by no means an accomplished artist, but drawing these brought me much needed peace and calm.
Last month, he posted another such list, this time including 99 little bits. Among my favorites are:
Be strict with yourself and forgiving of others. The reverse is hell for everyone.
When someone tells you something is wrong, they’re usually right. When someone tells you how to fix it, they’re usually wrong.
We are not bodies that temporarily have souls. We are souls that temporarily have bodies.
All guns are loaded.
You can reduce the annoyance of someone’s stupid belief by increasing your understanding of why they believe it.
Kelly’s “little bits” are at times prosaic, at others poetic, and at still others direct and obvious. Overall, there is something to fit most anyone, something which is clearly intentional: “Advice like these are not laws. They are like hats. If one doesn’t fit, try another.”
> She had to convince me to take this leap, to allow her to act as my safety net. I’ve not relied on anyone in that way since I was a child.
Beautiful in many different levels and ways. GLHF!
It's awesome to get high on life itself, isn't it?
This post of yours reminded me of this. I hope you like it!:
https://open.spotify.com/track/59HQVKZfaKycUzRTtp1zDO?si=W-yGNFQ-QY6RUlai37eXtQ