Blended Living

• I’m tired
• that’s good since  I need to go to sleep soon
• haven’t slept well in a few days
• and its starting to show in my focus and dreamy days
• but that fartlek tonight did the trick
• not liquor or pills but miles
• or rather 10 kilometers in Central Park in
• a drizzle that started out slowly up Heartbreak hill
• and passed a female cyclist who was doing some maneuver that
• I didn’t quite understand in my gasps for air
• as she looped around again and
• I shot her a look of “what are you doing” and
• just as she passed me, she didn’t provide any clues,
• microexpressions, or any other form of leakage
• and just as I was about to put her out of my mind I heard
• a clatter behind me as she fell over…
• I yelled back asking “Are you OK?” and she
• said softly “I’m OK” in a tone that implied to me
• that she hurt something else besides her tush and
• she let out a sigh and then
• remarked, “I guess that’s why I’m out practicing…”, and I said
• “Yeah, whatever doesn’t kill you…?” but I was too far away as she
• yelled over, “What?” as I repeated myself and said the longer version
• this time she replied, “Yeah, that’s what my mother tells me.”, and
• I was thinking, “Tough Mom”, and I bid her adieu as she was
• standing now brushing off her tush and I was close enough to see she was indeed
• alright enough for me to continue on my journey
• of intermittent pain labeled ‘fartlek’
• the drizzle continued as I passed the familiar parts heading south amazed
• by the sight of my breath as I finished each leg of speedwork
• and as I caught my invisible breath back I was able to notice the stray dog walker here and there
• and tried to identify the type of bike that approached from the rear or
• the kind of runner that was about to pass me whether
• they were heavy or tall or short or male or female or expert or novice
• which was enough of a distraction for me to get my heart rate back down
• enough to sprint the next 400 meters or so as I
• passed the Lake and came up the little hill to see the huge red billboard displaying
• the time and temperature startled to hear
• another runner breathing harder than me as she finished her speedwork
• and she gave me the motivation to do another few sprints as I turned the corner near Columbus Circle and ran until the light
• and circled back and raced back up the hill north
• just as she completed her sprint south and
• she passed me another time when I had to tease out a knot in my left foot against a pole
• as she turned ahead of me and did this curious bounce up and down the curb as she passed me the last time for the night
• I mentally thanked her for the spirited last three sprints and headed home.

I don’t read enough, so I randomly will segue into different areas by random clicks on web pages, or by whimsical  strolls down unfamiliar aisles in bookstores.  Its like a physical randomization while walking in NYC- you sometimes find something new and unique, or at least you get some exercise.

I last used the nickname of one of my kids schoolmates, and came across an interesting book about a storyteller.  It interspersed a story between chapters that unfolded about a trying period in the life of the author, Ben Izzy.  [Izzy short for Isabella] I recommend the book- its a quick read, with some interesting old world stories – some which were familiar to me, others that came fresh.  The short folk stories span the world, covering the bible, the Greeks, some Jewish and some Zen.

My latest wandering comes in the form of “Undress Me in the Temple of Heaven”, which finally came off my reserve queue at NYPL.  So long ago that I didn’t remember how I chanced upon it.  Its part memoir and travelogue.  The provocative title and cover photo do catch your eye, but there was then something familiar… I couldn’t quite place it, then I did a little digging online, and it turns out that the author was a high school classmate.   We weren’t close, but we must have had some classes together, as her back cover photo made me scratch below the surface.

Coincidences are funny- I’ll write again when I’ve read it.

It seems that its never really done.   The chores, reading, those things that you do after the other work things, that might make tomorrow a little better, nicer, easier, or just plain tolerable.  The workout regimen, the shopping list, the language DVDs that collect more dust than attention.  Even getting a spanking new netbook seems like a chore, set it up, add software, anti-virus, configure it, personalize stuff, then there’s all the sites that you have to type in for the first time, and all those passwords that aren’t saved.

That aggravating well spun highly effective password you put on the router that defies memory or locate-ability.   Its still configuring itself, maybe that post it note under the desk has it…  You wonder about how much work it will take to reset all your wireless  devices’ passwords.  But you can’t because the kids are doing homework, too.  They have projects with deadlines, and angst and that ubiquitous ‘net is needed.

You suddenly realize that you needed a pre-planned network outage for your own home.   What poor planning, but who wouda thunk it was necessary?

Ok, one more attempt… 4th pet name mixed with favorite TV character, interspersed with birth months and voila!  We are connected.  [no, that isn't really my password clue, please.]  Like rolling a boulder uphill just past its apex, we are shaking and moving now.  Glue that sheet on the board for the science project.  Print that chart out.  Finish reading that chapter for tomorrow’s discussion.   The netbook finally is done loading.  It’s past midnight again.  Brush your teeth!  (I did have to reward all the hard work with sea salt chips, didn’t I?)

At least the kids are asleep now.  I kinda got a lot done this evening.  Took a short-ish walk and went over my to do list. While out I contemplated being a dog owner again.  The only fun part of that mental exercise.   In my mind I saw a scroll that would rival a toilet paper roll commercial- its goes on and on.  Hey, its OK.  There’s always tomorrow.   And I think there’s another movie opening soon that I want to see.  They are saving humanity, I’m just salvaging my sanity.  John Conner’s to-do list might just make mine seem lighter.  Robot Ducati’s seem very cool.

I allow myself to pause somewhat from my daily miles and spend some time stationary to watch an old movie in BlueRay.  It still has that old kick to it, and the amazing clarity is like watching it anew.  Some moments later, discipline finally winning over inertia I continue down to-do Lane.  A gallon of milk and some other nightly rituals before I can get some shuteye.  The fast sprints and slow workday empty my tank, and a sour mood creeps its way in, as I cross 110th Street.

I think to myself that I can swiftly maneuver the aisles and grab a milk and escape to dreamland.  Unopened boxes and other late night shoppers block my plan.  Maybe the next aisle over, or the next.  I finally get to the back of the store, cursing that person that discovered putting the milk back there forces all of us to walk past items we might not need.

I smile bleakly towards a coed, more to get her to let me pass than anything else.  She smiles back and tussles with her hair.  I think to myself, why didn’t this happen more when I was younger?  Maybe it did, and I just better understand the signs now.  I pick up the milk and make it over to the checkout area.

An elderly couple is slowly inching forward on checkout #1.  I try to see what else is going on.  Is #3 the racehorse to bet on?   Sigh, its a muddy track and the purse isn’t motivating anyone this night.  I settle behind the elderly.

The West African cashier is playing a game with the old man.  She clearly has a 20 in her hand, but she keeps saying its a ‘ten’.  He utters something but I can’t quite catch it.  Then he hands her 3 singles, and she says its a ‘five’ and now she has 8 bucks.  In my rush, I’m annoyed but intrigued by this little game. It goes back and forth a couple times more.  By now their smiles and banter have erased my sour mood.  They get their change and walk away.

The cashier has a large smile for me.  Its infectious and we chat for a minute.  She explains later that he just turned 88 recently, and that was his daughter.  She confesses that she is enamored by the guy.  More details about him.  I say I wish I’ll be so healthy and surrounded by loving people, too.

I walk out of the store a bit lighter despite the 8.6 pounds of milk.

I got the chance to see the Star Trek movie, and I really liked it.  Sure there are spots where one can complain and criticize, but overall the film provides that careful combination of pure adventure, a new spin on familiar characters, and stays true to the persistent spirit of Trek.

Normally I’d be content with one viewing, but its popularity placed my viewing vantage a bit too close.  I’m entertaining seeing it again, this time providing ample time to get more center seating.  Movies aren’t cheap anymore, but 2 hours of entertainment seems a value.

We have just finished Mother’s Day, but its the father theme in the movie that chokes me up, as the line about ‘daring you to be more’ strikes my resonant tone fully.  Who am I pleasing in that sense?  My own image or imagination about what my father would find to be proud about me?  That’s a question for the ages.  Short circuiting that one, I ultimately will have to find some contentment for me first, then work out some other yardstick for Dad.

My 10 miles a day theme for the month of May, has given me ample time to contemplate many things, and some things seem more clear lately.   I’m not at the top of my game, since I can’t quite recall that perfect word or phrase, maybe some standards are just too high…  Still that hurdle isn’t beyond my ken.  By chance I picked a book out of a dear friend’s shelf and one of the chapter titles that sprung out at me is “Lean just beyond your edge”.

She would likely laugh out loud and think that I often protrude just beyond the borders of our friendship- as I often reply ‘how else would I know where the edges are?’  Nonetheless I’d like to think that I embody a good combination of support and prickliness to enable my friends to achieve their potential.  Or I come off like Greg House – minus the genius life saving skills.

About 120 miles into my journey so far this month, I’m hitting some milestones and noting what other refinements are necessary.  That fartlek in the dark Central Park tonight made a dent in the legacy fat deposit. That is, legacy as in the fourth meaning, as in obsolete.  Thanks ol’ ancestors but the next famine isn’t coming soon.  We may have a plentitude of dearths, but calories aren’t one of them.

I’m enjoying the view as Manhattan in the springtime is  a joy to the senses.  Allergies aside it pleases me to see the activity and energy focus outside of the brick and glass towers.  All the people with all their goals coalesce into a dance that is momentarily slowed or sped up by green and red lights at each corner.  I see the individuals, and the whole – the entire system flowing into and out of buildings and subways and cars.  I try to detect patterns- to find its essence, the beauty.

The trees have shed much of their early spring flowers, which means my allergies will subside.  This too shall pass.  But while its happening, it really seems a long time.  The sneezing, the watery eyes, the malaise.  While on the daily trek there are burdens that seem like they will never end.  Then they do.  There are pleasures that seem fleeting, then they reoccur.  There is an ebb and flow, and if we stop to notice, we can ride them, without wasting our energy fighting them.  That is blended living.

• rain rain go away!
• should have taken that walk when the sun came out earlier
• 4x is humming along, albeit at a muted amount
• still best to work out the kinks with smaller amounts
• and I’m still learning things about this craft after having made so many trades in the last decade
• or should I say I am learning things about me?
• that good cup of coffee today is keeping me up now
• rolling along like its was early evening right now
• good thing (or maybe bad) that the 4x markets don’t sleep at all
• more time to practice, and its good to do while I’m not at my best
• to sort of stress test myself and my trading skills
• some days I would hesitate to call these skills
• but I’ve proven to myself that they are skills
• just that I’m sometimes not in the right frame of mind to pay attention
• to the little subtle signals
• and the competing voices that habitate my mind
• oh that Kindle DX is tempting
• just when I thought I owned everything I want
• along comes a device that could be the answer to 3 needs
• a platform for me to read more on (especially fiction and current stuff)
• a way to ease some clutter
• a prize for trading well, or perhaps hitting my fitness goals
• I’m getting that feeling…
• that sweet nexus of ideas, practice, and technology
• the sticker price is steep
• but the probably 2 year costs come out to under 2 bucks a day
• and I will likely use it enough to justify that
• besides if my solution seeking engine (my mind) fixates on that prize
• it helps to focus me sufficiently to not do the little stupid things
• that can sabotage a good trade setup- like fear and greed and impatience
• just exited that trade with 2 Kindle DX days worth of profit
• hitting my marks, should be time to up the ante.

Are we at the eye of the storm?  This economic downturn seems to have lost some of its shock value.  That is if you aren’t one of the millions who got laid off.  There in that storyline you definitely feel the pain. But for the other roughly 90% who are still employed, this seems like the clouds are parting, the warmth of the sun is upon us, and things might just be looking up for  a change.

My guess is that this is a false recovery (in the markets at least), the banks aren’t really lending, although if you feel like you just found a bargain in a new home, all the more power to ya.  The housing numbers were “not as bad as expected”.

I think that homes will be more affordable next year.   Layoffs are likely going to continue, and its a supply VS demand game there.  Fewer employed means less demand for home purchases.   Lower home prices and money will find its way into other venues.  Like the stock market.

So throwing a wild guess out there, the DOW will be flirting with 10,000 sometime in 2010 just as you discover that that phenomenally lowball bid you made on that nice home you found, gets accepted.