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It is a sad confession that I must make, but I can do it now. I have seen the error of my ways, made amends for my transgressions, and will be seeking to make restitution in the days, weeks, and months ahead.
I have been afraid to CAD. That isn’t exactly right; I have been unable to CAD. As shameful as it may sound, I was intimidated, nay bullied, by a simple software program that all of my professional associates seemingly mastered soon after the tired of designing amazing fetes of awe inspiring light displays with their Lite-Brite toys.
I was able to mask my inadequacy for a long time by rendering skillful drawings on graph paper with a pencil. It was an onerous burden to know that the girls all snickered behind my back and all of the cool guys shunned me, but undeterred I was able to press on with a good game face.
I knew in my heart that some day that day would come when I would be expected to perform, in fact I had been practicing and preparing for it for several months. I had searched Google, downloaded free software, inquired into the cost of remedial classes (over $1000 – ouch!) and had private discrete conversation with trusted friends with whom I could discuss my performance issue. They all assured me that “it would happen” someday, and they encouraged me to hang in there and keep trying. I did keep trying, dutifully opening Google Sketch Up and other programs, dragging my mouse across the screen in a feeble and ultimately failed attempt to draw a box, connect some lines to it and label them. There is no shame quite like not being able to perform when requested, and while I could launch the software with not trouble, performance and finishing were elusive destinations.
Then it happened. This past week, as part of my new position as a Project Engineer, I was asked to sketch up a simple drawing of a wall that had a flat panel display and a videoconferencing camera on it. This was an important drawing because the plasma and camera needed to be centered on a table that was not resting on the center line of the room. I needed to draw the wall, indicate the center line of the wall, and then draw a rectangle representing the flat panel display and show that it was centered on the center line of the table. Just for good measure, I needed to draw a box with a circle in it to represent the camera mounted directly under the flat panel. Easy peasy.
My palms began to sweat. My new company-issued laptop had AutoCAD LT 2008 loaded on it so that excuse was shot and I had time to work on it, so that wouldn’t fly either. I double clicked on the icon sitting there on my Desktop. It glared at me, taunting me and daring me to try and make it submit. After a few hours of frustration and personal exasperation I was ready to admit defeat and reveal my inadequacy to the head engineer. I went into his office to fess up. I was always taught to turn to the Bible for guidance, so as if by divine providence, he reached over to his quick reference books and pulled out a huge volume which he handed to me and told me to take and read. It was titled AutoCAD 2000 Bible (Finkelstein, Ellen. AutoCAD 2000 Bible. New York, New York: Hungry Minds, Inc., 1999.)
I could hardly wait to sit down and search the text for the holy truths I had sought for so long. It was getting towards the evening so I took the book home, or rather to dinner with me. As I dined at Che’ Golden Corral, I also devoured the contents of this tome. (I tried to wipe the mac and cheese off of page 115 the best I could Paul – sorry!) As I read, and began to comprehend the concepts of Cartesian Coordinates, the light bulb lit up.
Cartesian coordinates were developed by some French guy named Rene Descartes a long time ago. He was the one who popularized the phrase, "I think, therefore I am." The story goes that one day he was sitting at a little sidewalk cafe in Vienna near one of his favorite haunts, the Hotel Sacher sipping coffee, eating a Sacher torte and debating some meaningless theory with a fellow philosopher when the waiter for the cafe asked Descarte if he needed anything else. Rene said, "I don't think so," and suddenly he was gone.
…But I digress. By giving the software the Cartesian Coordinates of the first corner of your box and then the opposite corner, it would draw a rectangle for you. A line is drawn by simply giving the starting point and the ending point. Armed with this knowledge, I raced back to my computer and fired up the program. I clicked on the icon in the software to draw a rectangle. I put in two numbers on the input line, hit enter, and put in two more. I hit enter once again and to my amazement, a box appeared on my screen! I then drew a few lines. In a few minutes, I had drawn several boxes, connected them with lines, and was searching through the bible for instructions on how to label them. By the time the sun rose over the east Texas horizon, I had drawn my wall with a flat panel screen and a camera. I had added “dims” (that is cool slang for dimensions), and a title.
The curse had been broken and my performance issues had been resolved. I am still far from being called a CAD artist, although some of my work does look a bit Picasso-esque. In the days to come I will be seeking out opportunities to improve and hone my skills. I am on my way to being able to do schematics, one lines, elevations, RCPs, and details. Now I can finally sit at the “cool kids” table at lunch. Sure, I’ll be a 47 year old eating peanut butter and jelly with a bunch of 15 year olds, but hey, I’ll finally be cool. I can do CAD.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
It is getting close to the zero hour when I'll be moving from Atlanta to Houston in a job-transfer related change. I am actually excited, but I am also sad to be leaving the friends who have managed to tolerate me for the past two decades that I have called North Atlanta home. I will carry many memories with me, here is just one:
Many of you know that I am a firefighter/EMT with the Roswell Fire Department. I will be turning in my bunker gear, boots and helmet today, and bidding farewell to a portion of my life that I never realized was such a big deal. From now on, all of my fire fighting references will be past-tense. My heart will still race when I hear a Federal Q siren winding up, but it will be someone else mashing the button.
I became a fireman late in life as firefighters go - I was 39 years old on that Tuesday night, January 4, 2000, when I first declared my intention to become a firefighter to the assembled group at Roswell Fire Station Number One. Of those assembled with me many didn't make it to the end. Even the fellow elected as our class president bailed before the finish line. Our class had an attrition rate of about thirty-five or forty percent which I'm told is about average. Finally, on a cold-but-clear Saturday morning, we were adjudicated by certified evaluators.
The first trial was to go from "street clothes" to "packed out" in our gear, including breathing air through the SCBA, in less than two minutes. I made it with about 12 seconds to spare. One of my good friends through out the class had a problem with his face mask, got flustered and missed the mark. He was so upset that he just gathered his things, hopped in his Jeep and squealed his tires as he sped out of the parking lot. I made it through the rest of the day, with only one "do-over", until the last evolution - searching the building for a victim.
The instructor has a prepared script that he reads verbatim for consistency to the candidate. He then has a list of items that the candidate is expected to say, or do, during the trial. The candidate must do a certain number of the items on the list in order to pass, however some of the items are deemed critical, and failure to do any of these will result in an automatic failure of test. For example, finding a victim would obviously be a critical element of "victim search". To come out empty-handed would be an automatic fail. But there were also other "gotchas" like not wearing the proper protective equipment, losing track of your partner, etc.
The instructions were given to me, and another firefighter, who was already on the department but was there to help out with the testing and had volunteered to be my partner. I was certain that he said that the "victim" would be in the room I was to search. I took off as lead firefighter, doing a right-hand search; my partner hanging on to my left pants cuff. There was a door in one corner of the room but since the victim was "in the room" I passed it by, thinking it was out-of-bounds. When I rounded the fourth corner of the room and got back to my point of origin without finding a victim, I was beyond worried. How could I have not found the victim? It was not a large room and we had covered it completely. The only option was to go back to that "out-of-bounds" door and look inside. There was a time limit, but we still had some time remaining so off we went. When we got to that door, we went in and sure enough, there was the victim dummy. I was relieved and angry, but mostly relieved. I had passed the final hurdle and learned a few important lessons in the process.
These lessons have actually come in handy many time since.
1. Make sure you know where the boundaries are. I could have asked the evaluator if side rooms were out-of-bounds before I went in but didn't. I would have found the victim in under a minute if I had that little piece of knowledge.
2. Listen to the advice of older and wiser partners. He suggested that we search the room when we came to it but I was certain in my ignorance that it was out-of-bounds so we pressed on. Once we had made the 360 he suggested the side room again and of course found our objective.
3. Don't give up if your first attempt doesn't yield the expected results. Re-group, re-evaluate, and revise your strategy. Seek more data and more sources of data.
4. Even if you are convinced that something is out-of-bounds, don't be so bull-headed as to ignore it. At least give it a quick glance.
These lessons learned apply to much more of life than just victim searches in burning buildings. Hopefully now that you are armed with my experience you will be able to avoid fruitlessly "going in circles" like I did that day.
Scott
Many of you know that I am a firefighter/EMT with the Roswell Fire Department. I will be turning in my bunker gear, boots and helmet today, and bidding farewell to a portion of my life that I never realized was such a big deal. From now on, all of my fire fighting references will be past-tense. My heart will still race when I hear a Federal Q siren winding up, but it will be someone else mashing the button.
I became a fireman late in life as firefighters go - I was 39 years old on that Tuesday night, January 4, 2000, when I first declared my intention to become a firefighter to the assembled group at Roswell Fire Station Number One. Of those assembled with me many didn't make it to the end. Even the fellow elected as our class president bailed before the finish line. Our class had an attrition rate of about thirty-five or forty percent which I'm told is about average. Finally, on a cold-but-clear Saturday morning, we were adjudicated by certified evaluators.
The first trial was to go from "street clothes" to "packed out" in our gear, including breathing air through the SCBA, in less than two minutes. I made it with about 12 seconds to spare. One of my good friends through out the class had a problem with his face mask, got flustered and missed the mark. He was so upset that he just gathered his things, hopped in his Jeep and squealed his tires as he sped out of the parking lot. I made it through the rest of the day, with only one "do-over", until the last evolution - searching the building for a victim.
The instructor has a prepared script that he reads verbatim for consistency to the candidate. He then has a list of items that the candidate is expected to say, or do, during the trial. The candidate must do a certain number of the items on the list in order to pass, however some of the items are deemed critical, and failure to do any of these will result in an automatic failure of test. For example, finding a victim would obviously be a critical element of "victim search". To come out empty-handed would be an automatic fail. But there were also other "gotchas" like not wearing the proper protective equipment, losing track of your partner, etc.
The instructions were given to me, and another firefighter, who was already on the department but was there to help out with the testing and had volunteered to be my partner. I was certain that he said that the "victim" would be in the room I was to search. I took off as lead firefighter, doing a right-hand search; my partner hanging on to my left pants cuff. There was a door in one corner of the room but since the victim was "in the room" I passed it by, thinking it was out-of-bounds. When I rounded the fourth corner of the room and got back to my point of origin without finding a victim, I was beyond worried. How could I have not found the victim? It was not a large room and we had covered it completely. The only option was to go back to that "out-of-bounds" door and look inside. There was a time limit, but we still had some time remaining so off we went. When we got to that door, we went in and sure enough, there was the victim dummy. I was relieved and angry, but mostly relieved. I had passed the final hurdle and learned a few important lessons in the process.
These lessons have actually come in handy many time since.
1. Make sure you know where the boundaries are. I could have asked the evaluator if side rooms were out-of-bounds before I went in but didn't. I would have found the victim in under a minute if I had that little piece of knowledge.
2. Listen to the advice of older and wiser partners. He suggested that we search the room when we came to it but I was certain in my ignorance that it was out-of-bounds so we pressed on. Once we had made the 360 he suggested the side room again and of course found our objective.
3. Don't give up if your first attempt doesn't yield the expected results. Re-group, re-evaluate, and revise your strategy. Seek more data and more sources of data.
4. Even if you are convinced that something is out-of-bounds, don't be so bull-headed as to ignore it. At least give it a quick glance.
These lessons learned apply to much more of life than just victim searches in burning buildings. Hopefully now that you are armed with my experience you will be able to avoid fruitlessly "going in circles" like I did that day.
Scott
Thursday, November 6, 2008
The American National Anthem, The Star Spangled Banner, used to be a sacred, revered acknowldgement of the flag of our country, and that nation of free peoples that it represents. It was customarily sung as a precursor to any formal event or large gathering of citizens by the masses, in unison, and with gusto. It was tantamount to reciting the "God is great, God is good" prayer before the Thanksgiving dinner with all of the family assembled. There was a noble nature to the sound of dozens, or hundreds, or even thousands of voices, unskilled though they may have been, united in one accord to pay homage to our heritage and pledge faithfulness to our future.
Then, change occured. It became en vogue to have an individual with some vocal prowess "lead" in the singing of the song, and then eventually professional artists were invited to sing the song as a solo. I can accept the idea of a song leader - someone who either through the physical actions of guiding the singers demonstratively, or by singing the song in such a manner that others are able to join in in unison. It is the artistic - make that sadistic - renditions of the song by some of these solo performers that is way out of line.
Yes, there have been way too many times that an individual has forgotten the words, or the tune, and absolutely butchered the song in that manner - and I appologize to to the butchers I have offended with the comparison - but I can excuse them because I will freely admit that the song is not easy. We really do need a new anthem, but that is a topic for another day.
My complaint rests squarely on the prima dons and prima donas that feel compelled to "make the song theirs" through descants, cadenzas, and other showy vocal displays. I also hold accountable the event coordinators and planners who allow this once sacred group experience to become a vehicle of promotion for the "artist du jour". If you wonder why there has been a noticible loss of patriotism and love of country by our youth and the leaders of the next generation, I think you can start by examining the examples set by their modelers. We have allowed the "me generation" to rob us of a vital and necessary rallying cry.
The genesis of this rant dates long before the event that brought it a boiling point in my fingertips. The breaking point came a few weeks ago when I was in a sports themed restaurant on a Sunday for lunch. It was the Sunday that the NFL San Diego Chargers and New Orleans Saints played against each other in Wimbley Stadium in London, England. The corporate dieties with the National Football League deemed it a significant enough event that all broadcasts of all football games scheduled to begin at the 1:00 ET hour carried the pre-game ceremonies of the Wimbley event. Sadly, this included the singing of The Star Spangled Banner, and the English National Anthem, God Save the Queen.
After listening to some diva sing The Star Spangled Banner in a way that would make her a poster child for my point, she preceeded to do the same thing to God Save the Queen. Even though she was using a microphone, she was almost drowned out by the huge crowd of assembled subjects of the crown singing in unison and with a fervor that appeared to be indicative of a sincere conviction. It almost made me wish I were English.
My point is two-fold: let's return our nation's anthem to the position where it belongs - as a mass affirmation of solidarity with the ideals and principles that makes our country the envy (and target) of the rest of the world. and if The Star Spangled Banner is not the best choice as our national anthem, then let's change it.
Then, change occured. It became en vogue to have an individual with some vocal prowess "lead" in the singing of the song, and then eventually professional artists were invited to sing the song as a solo. I can accept the idea of a song leader - someone who either through the physical actions of guiding the singers demonstratively, or by singing the song in such a manner that others are able to join in in unison. It is the artistic - make that sadistic - renditions of the song by some of these solo performers that is way out of line.
Yes, there have been way too many times that an individual has forgotten the words, or the tune, and absolutely butchered the song in that manner - and I appologize to to the butchers I have offended with the comparison - but I can excuse them because I will freely admit that the song is not easy. We really do need a new anthem, but that is a topic for another day.
My complaint rests squarely on the prima dons and prima donas that feel compelled to "make the song theirs" through descants, cadenzas, and other showy vocal displays. I also hold accountable the event coordinators and planners who allow this once sacred group experience to become a vehicle of promotion for the "artist du jour". If you wonder why there has been a noticible loss of patriotism and love of country by our youth and the leaders of the next generation, I think you can start by examining the examples set by their modelers. We have allowed the "me generation" to rob us of a vital and necessary rallying cry.
The genesis of this rant dates long before the event that brought it a boiling point in my fingertips. The breaking point came a few weeks ago when I was in a sports themed restaurant on a Sunday for lunch. It was the Sunday that the NFL San Diego Chargers and New Orleans Saints played against each other in Wimbley Stadium in London, England. The corporate dieties with the National Football League deemed it a significant enough event that all broadcasts of all football games scheduled to begin at the 1:00 ET hour carried the pre-game ceremonies of the Wimbley event. Sadly, this included the singing of The Star Spangled Banner, and the English National Anthem, God Save the Queen.
After listening to some diva sing The Star Spangled Banner in a way that would make her a poster child for my point, she preceeded to do the same thing to God Save the Queen. Even though she was using a microphone, she was almost drowned out by the huge crowd of assembled subjects of the crown singing in unison and with a fervor that appeared to be indicative of a sincere conviction. It almost made me wish I were English.
My point is two-fold: let's return our nation's anthem to the position where it belongs - as a mass affirmation of solidarity with the ideals and principles that makes our country the envy (and target) of the rest of the world. and if The Star Spangled Banner is not the best choice as our national anthem, then let's change it.
I'm diving in...
The surest way to determine that I have no talent and no future as a writer is to splay my wares out for the universe to critique and criticize. So... here we go. For my first entry, while my creative juices are marinating, I want to post an essay that I composed almost 14 years ago.
In that era, Al Gore had just completed building the Internet and the speed limit was a blazing 4Mbps. To truly access the Internet, you need a whole host of equipment and special software. The RJ45 connector and the CAT5 cable were just ideas waiting to be developed; the connection of choice was a big square cube - about an inch-and-a-half on an edge. Of course this was also in the days of 5-1/4" floppies...
A forum posted the question, "Does Emily really need to read and write in 2020world? This is my reply:
I feel compelled to respond, although doing so launches me into a domain where I have little experience and a great deal of uneasiness. Yes, Emily will need to read and write in 2020world, and in my estimation, the need for those skills will be greater than her mother's today. I am a college graduate as a communications major.
In my class of 1983, the "electronic journalists" out numbered the print journalism grads easily 5 to 1. Appearance was everything and the ability to paint stories with pictures was paramount. In my classes content was more important than style; what you say, "the 5 W's," was more hotly debated than predicated nouns and dangling participles.
Three years ago, I took a position with an organization that was on the cutting edge of digital communications and networking. Electronic mail has become a staple of daily life. As I peruse the ten or twenty e-mails I receive each day and digest their content, their lack of style can often be a stumbling block to their comprehension. Some of the more glaring boners actually cause me to grimace as I read the "To:" line and realize their errors (or ignorance) have been mystically transported to the desks of all levels of the organization, and competency opinions are being formed based on the word choice and sentence construction of the author.
John Steinbeck, Ernest Hemmingway, John Grisham, Jackie Collins, Art Buchwald, Dave Barry, and Charley Stough (ever heard of BONG? Check it out on the Internet) are "wordsmiths" of stellar proportions. They, each in their own unique manner, draw us into their worlds and imaginations with words, not pictures. Electronic mail requires language skills of the same caliber. We use them to express ideas without benefit of pictures. Whether the message is a request for software assistance, directions to the location of the company picnic, a romantic proposal, or a message from the CEO, when it is in writing, it is available for a much deeper scrutiny than a video/audio recording. Word choice and sentence composition becomes so much more critical.
And, when that message exists in the electronic realm, at the touch of a key, your error-filled attempt at lucid thought can be everywhere in the ether the infamous "Green Card Lawyers" have been (One good reason why I ought to kill this creation right now). In 2020world, Emily will need to be able to construct sentences, spell words, and punctuate paragraphs like never before. Spellcheckers and "Gramitik" only go so far. Here are some actual examples:
"External E-mail is working again. Please let me know is you are still having a problem."
"I will need to take an extra 30 minutes on my Lunch break today SO i WILL BEE OUT FORM 12-1:30PM......I have to take care of some personal businesss."
Though they are benign enough errors, and the ideas they were trying to express were communicated, would you want to be the author of these messages sent through out your organization?
To close with a line from those great philosophers, Crosby Stills, and Nash: "Teach your children well, their father's health will slowly vanish." (I beg mercy on those of you with greater English skills than I, who would critique this with the sole thought of flaunting the superiority of your academic prowess. I will concede your cerebral mass probably exceeds mine.)
I welcome your comments and suggestions - and your grammatical corrections.
Scott
In that era, Al Gore had just completed building the Internet and the speed limit was a blazing 4Mbps. To truly access the Internet, you need a whole host of equipment and special software. The RJ45 connector and the CAT5 cable were just ideas waiting to be developed; the connection of choice was a big square cube - about an inch-and-a-half on an edge. Of course this was also in the days of 5-1/4" floppies...
A forum posted the question, "Does Emily really need to read and write in 2020world? This is my reply:
I feel compelled to respond, although doing so launches me into a domain where I have little experience and a great deal of uneasiness. Yes, Emily will need to read and write in 2020world, and in my estimation, the need for those skills will be greater than her mother's today. I am a college graduate as a communications major.
In my class of 1983, the "electronic journalists" out numbered the print journalism grads easily 5 to 1. Appearance was everything and the ability to paint stories with pictures was paramount. In my classes content was more important than style; what you say, "the 5 W's," was more hotly debated than predicated nouns and dangling participles.
Three years ago, I took a position with an organization that was on the cutting edge of digital communications and networking. Electronic mail has become a staple of daily life. As I peruse the ten or twenty e-mails I receive each day and digest their content, their lack of style can often be a stumbling block to their comprehension. Some of the more glaring boners actually cause me to grimace as I read the "To:" line and realize their errors (or ignorance) have been mystically transported to the desks of all levels of the organization, and competency opinions are being formed based on the word choice and sentence construction of the author.
John Steinbeck, Ernest Hemmingway, John Grisham, Jackie Collins, Art Buchwald, Dave Barry, and Charley Stough (ever heard of BONG? Check it out on the Internet) are "wordsmiths" of stellar proportions. They, each in their own unique manner, draw us into their worlds and imaginations with words, not pictures. Electronic mail requires language skills of the same caliber. We use them to express ideas without benefit of pictures. Whether the message is a request for software assistance, directions to the location of the company picnic, a romantic proposal, or a message from the CEO, when it is in writing, it is available for a much deeper scrutiny than a video/audio recording. Word choice and sentence composition becomes so much more critical.
And, when that message exists in the electronic realm, at the touch of a key, your error-filled attempt at lucid thought can be everywhere in the ether the infamous "Green Card Lawyers" have been (One good reason why I ought to kill this creation right now). In 2020world, Emily will need to be able to construct sentences, spell words, and punctuate paragraphs like never before. Spellcheckers and "Gramitik" only go so far. Here are some actual examples:
"External E-mail is working again. Please let me know is you are still having a problem."
"I will need to take an extra 30 minutes on my Lunch break today SO i WILL BEE OUT FORM 12-1:30PM......I have to take care of some personal businesss."
Though they are benign enough errors, and the ideas they were trying to express were communicated, would you want to be the author of these messages sent through out your organization?
To close with a line from those great philosophers, Crosby Stills, and Nash: "Teach your children well, their father's health will slowly vanish." (I beg mercy on those of you with greater English skills than I, who would critique this with the sole thought of flaunting the superiority of your academic prowess. I will concede your cerebral mass probably exceeds mine.)
I welcome your comments and suggestions - and your grammatical corrections.
Scott
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