Decisions, Decisions

Eeny, Meeny, Miney, Moe, Heads, Tails, and Waffle are the Seven Dwarves of Decision-making.

I pay the priest to sacrifice a goat and read its entrails. That usually works. Others swear by the flight of birds, and divers auguries. Pagans...

"Napoleon Hill states that 98% of people are in jobs they have through indecision, because they never made the decision about what they wanted to do in their lives in the first place."

Oh that is so me. I was working on the McGovern presidential campaign but when that fell through I was kind of lost. My mother suggested I get a teaching credential. I did it, not because I wanted to be a teacher, but becuase it kept me from looking for a job for another year.

I eventually fell into teaching, after two years as a policitcal consultant in Washington State.

But all the career choices I had, were not choice, thought out. I just fell into them.

Liberal Arts is the course of study for people who can't make up their minds and

Law school is the ultimate in Liberal Arts studies, despite the appearance of a trade. It teaches you not only how to think, but how to argue about what you think. Unfortunately, it teaches you NOT to make up your mind- or rather, how "to hold two opposing and contradictory ideas in your head at the same time."

If you look at people who pay the big bucks to Johnson O'Connor to find out what they SHOULD be when they grow up, an alarming number of them have already gone to law school. 

The great virtue of reducing an important ( but apparently insoluble) decision to a coin flip is that you might well find you care more than you thought you did. When the quarter says  "move to the coast" and you suddenly feel a twinge of doubt, the decision has been assisted- just not in the way you expected it to be.

Quick now! Grab your towels!! I do believe this topic is ripe for a few Douglas Adams quotes; or maybe not..... but that's OK ‘cos I'm ripe for a few of ‘em before retiring for the night and with that said...."thar they spew"!

"I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be."

"You live and learn. At any rate, you live."

"Human beings, who are almost unique in having the ability to learn from the experience of others, are also remarkable for their apparent disinclination to do so."

Peace out and be nice so that the bed bugs let you sleep.

OMG... I can't believe that Mr. P has mentioned Daniel Kahneman, professor at Princeton University's Department of Psychology, and Amos Tversky! I came across what's called 'behavioral economics' about a year and a half ago when Nassim Nicholas Taleb's book 'The Black Swan' totally changed me -- and it was only later that I discovered another link: Taleb's close relationship with Benoit Mandelbrot (cf.  The Fractal Geometry of Nature).  

As we Bokononists would say, 'Busy, busy, busy'.  It's strange the people I find in my karass!

If you want to take an exciting trip with lots of mystery and bizarre turns start studying neurology and learning how human brains process information!  Oh, and read Taleb's book, too... (I've read and re-read it literally dozens of times -- and it was the impetus behind me buying put options about 14 months ago -- 'fireproofing' my portfolio against the losses most of my friends (sadly) suffered.  

Geez, I can't believe I found a reference to Kahneman and Tversky HERE! WOW! 

If anyone is really interested (like OBSESSED) with this topic, I'd start with Taleb, move on to Mandelbrot, and then move to Kahneman.  That's how I would start my journey... bring a highlighter and a pen, and prepare to have your foundations shaken! 

And if you like to think of things as 'firm' and 'solid' don't even begin to study neurology, chaos and complexity theory, behavioral economics -- or quantum mechanics!  Once you plumb these, you will find yourself flying blind through time and space... some folks can't handle that!

As far as 'how do we make decisions', I dare anyone to truthfully say, 'I know how I made X or Y decision! Decisions are like flowers... they reveal themselves as time rolls out before them, and you only see them as they open up.

>>> Doc.. try this video test .. Let me know what u see. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wE85GV6pLYc <<<  Well... she's cute!  But levity aside, I see her pirouetting from her left to her right (looking down that would be clockwise).  I love the music!  I'm a Bob Marley fan, though I don't indulge my enjoyment of period reggae very often....

Now, you let ME know what the test is really all about... YOUR thinking on that topic!

I can see her going clockwise or counter-clockwise - how confused does that make me?

Holly ~ I'm with you, I fell into my "career" through a bunch of doors that opened for me & I took the advantage of walking through.  I was part of the Job Corps Program in the 90's & Yesterday I happened to run into a few of the current students who attend the WI campus. They were amazed to #1 meet a graduate of one of the programs. they were also amazed that I am still in contact with many of the roommates I had & that many of the people who I was in the program with had made good lives with the trades they mastered.  I actually felt good yesterday when I left as these kids saw & heard me talking with a business owner about some upcoming booksales I wil be attending for him & his store & being a respected & self sufficient person in the world. It showed them what they are learning in the Job Corps is used on a daily basis. The counselor before I left thanked me as she said they hear that people have done well once leaving, but today they actually got to see what it looks like.  

For me it was a split second decision to sign up for the Job Corps Program and to get through it. The only rational I had was that I hated my current job & needed some sort of education & it was basically free. At age of 18 & where I was at the time there was nothing more enticing than that. Yesterday It was also a split second decison to ask these kids how the Old Campus was holding up. It nothing to do with showing off or tellign them to stick with it. It had to do with the fact that I was wondering as I haven't been by there in the last few years. Yet that split second decision turned into something more.   

So much depends upon what decision I am making. Is it soup or salad for lunch? Is it where I want to be in my life five or ten years hence? Some decisions are based upon your mood at any given moment, while some require a weighing of the alternatives, and others demand more research and planning.

Decisions, for me, are often achieved by a mix of methods; a combination of logic and intuition. I like to exercise all options at my disposal.

Using deductive and inductive reasoning, listening to gut feelings, analyzing facts and emotions, setting goals and being focused towards pursuing an objective are all everyday necessities, to differing degrees.

Life itself isn't simply cut-and-dried. Random, unforeseen events happen to everyone. Factoring in other people, constantly changing circumstances, and lessons learned (from making mistakes along the way) are vital to the decision-making process. A periodic review and reappraisal of choices must be ongoing.

If a person is completely single-minded and driven only in one direction, I feel you can easily miss out on advantageous opportunities. Being open to other ways of thinking and having various strategies for obtaining a desired objective allows one to maximize the possibilities in life.

Perhaps that means you don't always end up where you think you're going, but I believe wherever you find yourself will be more worthwhile and what you've gained along your journey is priceless.

I also suffer from pathological indecision—an 'over' thinker. I read and research excessively.

And then one day I heard that quote that says that 'not making a decision' is a decision of its own. And for some reason that just stuck. I looked back at all the major trajectories of my life so far, and sure enough, I was floating in the fetal position like an air hockey puck. People were just batting me between their own goals.

That image helps me a lot. Best to have some agency in the path, cuz you're going down one of them regardless.

Plus, taking the wrong path can be fun. Knowing that takes away some of the pressure.

This brings to mind one of my favorite poems "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost.

"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both..."

"Perhaps that means you don't always end up where you think you're going, but I believe wherever you find yourself will be more worthwhile and what you've gained along your journey is priceless."

Kindlee ~ How correct you are. Thankyou :)

My sister gave me the best piece of advise about big decision making: When in doubt, chicken out. It there is one small shred of doubt walk away. I also add to that: No matter where you go there you are. I have to be true to myself, which meant finding out who I am and am not. There have been moments in my life; one bad marriage but it gave me my beautiful, fun, don't know what I would do without daughter. Lots of mistakes were/are/gonna be made - they all have taken me to some extraordinary places. I don't have regrets, don't have should ‘a/ would ‘a/ could ‘a moments either. It is what it is and I am happy with it all.

Life is an adventure to be lived! I also offer: "Life is too short for drama & petty things, so kiss slowly, laugh insanely, love truly and forgive quickly."

We too often fall into the paralysis by analysis trap, forgetting that sometimes a bad decision is better than no decision at all.

In life -- as in computer programs -- 'the little diamonds' (decision points) send you off on entirely different paths than one would have otherwise taken.  What especially fascinating in our very divergent and non-linear world is that the results of taking a given 'fork in the road' are often cumulative. 

I often think of how much my life changed back in 1968 when a girlfriend asked me 'Do you love me?' and I answered 'You are my very best friend'.  Predictably, that was our last date... It was a picnic in the fall and I remember the wine (Mateus), the food (prosciutto on Italian bread), and the setting (a secluded wood in a park nestled inthe hills of western Pennsylvania).  I'm glad to report that when I checked last in 1993 she was still married to the classmate who replaced me.  I might otherwise have been living in McLean, VA, and not in Houston, TX -- She has a dream of becoming a CIA operative.  If that ever DID take place, I'm sure my life would have been very, very different than it has turned out!

Great topic. I haven't decided what to say yet.

OneDoc, you summed up a major problem in my life: paralysis by analysis. Unfortunately, I end up making bad decisions more often than good ones when that happens.

But in the case of today, I decided to copy what you wrote and comment about that. 

I am...THE DECIDER.

Then again, Olivia's goat entrail reading has serious merit.

Hmm Goat Entrails in some parts of this state you wouldn't be able to do that, Those poor goats are needed on the Roof of Al Johnson's Swedish Restaurant.

http://www.aljohnsons.com/swedish_family_restaurant/welcome.asp

We'd be better off using the pigs entrails...

Uh, hello?!?  What do you all think the Magic 8 Ball is for?

I didn't fall into my job, I was born into it and I can't seem to get away from it for very long.

Unless you have decided to take an absolute leap of faith and are either flying or falling off the Golden Gate Bridge . . . . my experiences have taught me that once a decision has been made you; do your best to make it the right one while at the same time, being very cautious to not fall into the trap of being dedicated to the plan just for the sake of the plan.

Most significant decisions are typically based on information/knowledge that you have available at a moment in time. Many times that information is not static and you should be willing to accept that and adapt accordingly. I think this is where ego plays an even bigger role in the decision making process, which should always be treated as it is; a process.

Well, that's my humble opinion at least. It is time for me to get my butt in gear and do something so I may indulge in my favorite paste time of woolgathering later.

Stoney - the weatherman man says to wear your warm sunglasses today to the dog park; and to watch where you step.

Kindlee,

I liked your quote very much.  What a grand dilemma.

rings-what a fortuitous outcome! You made a decision that has echoed nobly down the years. That was a great story. Thanks!

Cynthia-truer words was never spoke, as Pogo was wont to say. We learn many things about ourselves, and the pond we swim in, from our mistakes-some good, some bad. We are who we are because of the accumulation of past decisons upon our life experience. We can choose to continue with our course, filtering out the annoyances and uplifting, improving ourselves, or try another path, refine our preferences and focus our choices, and with luck and acuity and tenacity of purpose, become better people, better at life. Or, as my biology professor liked to say, we can wallow in the mire of mediocrity, running over the same old ground, slowly sinking under the weight of the baggage.

As for decisions, I mean the important ones: if you like the shoes, get black and brown...

My wife, like her mother and our oldest daughter, is a prisoner to indecisiveness.
They spend too much time and endure too much pain in arriving at a decision that they immediately set about regretting.

I adore them all but can influence only one and that by misdirection: It's no use saying: "No, you don't need to think about this. You need to think about anything but."

So, what I do is to try and set up small diversions, a little change of venue and pace. It isn't easy.

Nothing looks exactly the same or as daunting when put in perspective in the big picture.

Walking away from a puzzle is like turning your back on a river: It's a different river when you look back and often what seemed to be the big sticking point, looks so much less significant and important that you almost don't recognize it anymore.

Olivia ~ Don't forget the RED ones also ;)   couse remember ~ Sometimes you just HAVE to BUY the Red Shoes.....and the black, brown, grey, & green ones...  

Ooh, the RED ones-YES. Nothing lifts the spirits like cute red shoes...

Keep your pettiness filter on, dear, and the scales will fall away like the ashes of regret...

Doc Nolan,

Good grief, you dumped Valerie Plame? Good idea.

Here is the big decision I have to make this week (anyone feel free to weigh in):

For long-distance running training that has to be done inside, eliptical or treadmill?

Peter Lake, you are trying to make me go to my local coffee shop and get a Mexican Hot Chocolate, aren't you?  Its snowing right now, so its the perfect day for it.  But I'm due to have a late lunch with Sir Boyscout and his family (visiting relatives from Texas), so I'll have to hold off on the hot chocolate until I'm on my way home for the day.

Missy-a little of both, and throw in some walk/run with levels of intensity...

Rings90,
Thanks for sharing your story. I love a win-win scenario.

Olivia,
I think a park of Dorothy's ruby slippers would look very spiffy in you.

ooops, what am I doing here? I decided to do something earlier. Sacrebleu! Now my woolgathering must be further delayed.

Missive I hate eliptical trainers, they may be easier on your joints but they do not give you the same workout as a treadmill.  They feel like cheating because they are.  Go with a good cushioned deck, programable treadmill.  Preferably from Icon Health and Fitness, SB's uncle is a VP there and they are made here in the valley, had to get a plug in.

that would be a pair, not a park of ruby slippers, unless of course you wished to have many pairs.

MissIve: Suck it up and go outside!!!

Kidding. Elliptical will do you no good if you're training for running. Sure cross training is good for the body (I run, bike, and swim) but if you're training to meet a specific running goal, you're better off with the treadmill. Just be sure to set the angle of the treadmill up at least one percent to better simulate the road. One and half or two percent would be better.

"just when I thought I was out, They PUUUULLEd me back in"

YE, Nicely said

Nachista,

There is always time and room for Mexican Hot Chocolate..... try it with a dash of salt.

And to answer your photo comment question..... that is me next to the train.  Mt grandson is on the cattle catcher.  I still can't find the secret decoder envelope to respond to comments.

the pigeons have officially left the building......

Agent666,

Am laughing at your 'suck it up.' Funny. Especially after my New Year's Day post about deciding to NOT feel guilty that I was using an eliptical at the hotel that morning instead of running in the foot of snow and ice, as I normally do. It's just not the same cleanse to the sinuses. Ya know? 

But seriously, I have to increase my milage. I want to train for the Chicago and I have my two boys often. I have to be able to run in the house, so to speak. And I've already worn the varnish off the wood through the main hallway, so it's time for a machine.

Have only used the eliptical that one time and it felt awesome. No sore lower back. No throbbing sciatica. 

But I'll trust you. Feel the pain, right?! 

See how I make my decisions? Take advice, against better judgement, from perfect strangers on the internet.

Apparently anything's better than making the decision myself.

Even the title of this post makes my tongue feel thick. Anxiety attack ensuing. 

Missive train for this...

http://www.topofutahmarathon.com/

I know a VERY good massage therapist in the area ;)  She has access to an indoor lap pool and hot tub to boot!

Peter-there's no place like home...

I hate ellipticals, too. I just mix in a little if I'm going there. Best is a good run through the jungle-and don't look back!

Oh geeez.... I should never look back at what I wrote.....

Olivia, I pray you know I meant that the ruby slippers would look spiffy "on you"...

I shall do 45 minutes of rowing for pennance.

Eerie and potentially lovely how often Peter Whoever He Is Lake/John reads my mind and/or spouts philosophy with which I agree after pondering, sometimes even before.  And I like his photos.  Kindlee and Stoney, your philosophies do the same for me as Peter's. and all three of you are, pun intended, kind-ly to others.  Also Olivia, Doc Nolan, OncDoc..... That many of you have solved the puzzle of how to contact each other and to put iotas about oneself on the site remains a mystery, but life without mystery would be dull indeed, and maybe I'll have a sit-down with Matt and whoever. (I'll bring wine.) Meantime, I appreciate you: When I read my own comments later, I cringe, as I do when I read my work in print before hiding it forever.  You never make me feel foolish, and we reveal a few things here that we mayn't fully apprehend 'til we've done it; nor, in general, do you make others feel so.  A grand group, and were we to name our 'druthers in entertainment, I know I'd find a companion for a Broadway play, an evening of Cole Porter or Noel Coward, whom one or another of you quotes, to my intense delight {..."what good does common sense for it do?"}, an opera (please not Wagner, through whom I've actually sat but clearly have much to learn; how 'bout Puccini's lush sensuousness, Verdi's, and for word-lovers there's little better than Gilbert & Sullivan operretas), a walk in a wood (as A.A. Milne would have it}; symphony concert, beach-walking, long walk in rain, madrigal group, cooking, cooking, cooking, eating same, reading reading reading; gray misty days with pearly skies.  I'm grateful to you and Our Leader.

On-topic: Last night's CBS' "60 Minutes" included coverage of machines? electronic thingamajigs? I'm a humanities-type thinker and that other side of my brain is often a void (also victim of being told from first grade 'girls aren't supposed to be smart in math and science,' which forever marks one). Leslie Stahl interviewed thinkers/inventors/great minds who're working on a machine that will reveal how one made a particular decision and why. Scarier yet, it  does so with a voice.  Ms. Stahl let them try it on her, and it worked: It said why she chose (in thought only) a hammer for a particular chore; other items for other reasons. It was correct, which naturally begged her question, "How will this be used? Can it affect what a prospective employer, for example, might decide about me?" When refined a bit more, yes! came the unequivocal answer from one who's on the 'cutting edge,' as they say. 

Hey, John! You row! Wanna start tracking times and distances? I need to be on the rower more myself. Race ya...

oh, gosh: I know how to spell 'operettas'; I'm simply a poor typist.  Sorry

...now we're confessing,  I too wear JP's velvet dress with leg-o'-mutton sleeves and a zillion tiny buttons; high-collared acres of lace blouses, circa 1900; and among favorites from years ago, worn often, is his 'Gloria Grahame' dress...and similar-but-not-just-like one of the following year, deep burgundy; black-and-cream striped pjs and robe; red flannel nightshirt (each of us is many people)....

I know this is controversial, but has anyone ever noticed an increase in indecisiveness while pregnant? And (here comes the controversial bit) what the implication of that may mean for levels of estrogen and decision-making correlations?

Tell the truth, now!

I had a meltdown during my first pregnancy while making a bouquet of fresh flowers at the farmers' market. Pink or red?!! Pink or red?!!! I cried when I got to the car with the stupid pink flowers.

A friend of mine, in her third trimester, got hit so badly that she had to pull her car over because she freaked out trying to decide which route to take home.

I've heard so many stories like these.

Have even asked a neuroscience prof. She nearly flogged me. Like I was implying that women are innately less decisive. But is it necessarily a BAD thing to take more time with a decision. I guess that's what we're 'deciding' here today. Wink, wink.

I just want to know. Inquiring minds and all that stuff.

Jonathan,

I need to get into post-holiday shape then I'll race.  I've been rowing on a Concept II machine for years.  I never did get the upgrade package where you race with others on line but I bet it would be fun.  It's the best exercise for me.

Just to add another layer of resistance I've elevated the back of the machine to one of those low-frequency vibrating tables.  I always feel better after rowing.  Never any pain.

I think whoever said no-pain-no-gain was a masochist! 

Be well and may your lake be smooth.

John

The pigeons have now flown the coop.

Isles & Lake,

I had the equivalent of Lake Michigan, the long way, on my Coffey Sculler until a hand disorder, Dupuytren's syndrome, interfered.

If you have to use your teeth to get your fingers off the handles...

I still get out on the bay in the Dave Emmer Skimmer. Two hulls, no bath, but the same issue at the end of the row. Could be worse.

From an evolutionary standpoint, caution during pregnancy would be adaptive. Indecision is a manifestation of caution. Ergo, a certain soupçon of indecision could be interpreted as a behavioural adaptation resulting in greater safety for mother and child.

I know exactly what you mean, though-sometimes excess of questioning and self-doubt can by trying. Another use for the filter...

Sorry, Missy-forgot my address line...lol

Missive if I ever get knocked up I'll let you know if my indecisiveness gets worse...can you wait a couple of years?

Oh, Suz, if you should have a little girl, she would be such a pistol. I can just see the two of you going round and round! *laughing*

My daughter and I would have some rare barneys. I learned when buying her clothes to tell her that her daddy got them, as she would wear nothing for me. I found that this was a common thing with mothers and daughters. we were as crossways as a bag of weasels. It gets better, though. Good luck lol...

Chista,

I'll wait. Patience. But did you see the film I posted on my site today? Don't you want a bunch of stinky boys who live with their hands down their pants? Love em.

Liv,

Thanks for the running tips. I too am a 'run through the woods' girl. Maybe I'll just drag the boys. I can see it now. Stopping for 'cwackers' and 'potty' every mile. At least they would sleep well!

And kudos to your evolutionary theory. Very good point. I think you're not only on to something, but most highly-evolved.

Stoney,

I've put off asking you this, as you always seem to read the fine details of others' posts and actually retain the information, but I genuinely thought you were in New York.

Your last few posts have made references to the midwest. I think Minnesota. Is that true? A Lake Wobegon-er? 

MissIve,

We're Badgers born and bred, but we visit our daughter and her family in Manhattan twice a year and interesting things always seem to happen there.

Are you enjoying the nice layer of ice that we have? I took a hard seat while filling the bird feeders this morning.

Thanks for wondering.

S

S,

I am enjoying the winter—and the ice. Always do. Except when I land on my bottom, or as you say, "take a hard seat." Hope no serious damage to your rear or your pride occured. And thank you for asking, sir.

Enjoyed some Garrison Keillor recaps of '08 Saturday night, then noticed your Lake Wobegon post.

Lake Michigan is very near and dear to my heart. So nice to know that it is near (and perhaps dear) to you, as well.

J 

Isles, Stoney and (Peter)Lake

I looked at your names posted together above. Ever noticed how, in chorus, you three sound like an outdoor adventure? 

PeterLake,

Your photos are magnificent. Really. I'm perhaps biased, as they capture my favorite types of settings. 

Stoney ~  I remember your an Oshkosh B'gosher Badger Born & Bred.... Go BADGERS ~ Hopefully the UW - FB team does better next year.        

Here's a crazy thing: I was asked to deliver a package for someone who could never connect with the recipient and was apparently to cheap to ship it.

Found the sprawling one-story house and was shown in to hand over the parcel to an old guy in a wheelchair. It was a set of woods that made him cry.

On the way out, passing through a room of elderly ladies who were all drinking out of large glasses, I was stopped dead by a 24"x30" framed photo on the wall.

The hostess, seeming a little impatient for me to move along, explained that it was: "A foreign language tutor and his son."

It wasn't. It was a picture of me and a little boy: "Scurry" Peck, taken on his grandfather's dock a hundred miles away.

My reasons for mentioning it here are two: I was wearing a well worn J. Peterman Thomas Jefferson shirt AND it was the most flattering shot ever taken.

I'm squatting in shorts on the pier chatting with Scurry, who also looks great but,in his case, it wasn't fluky. Two suntanned guys having a good time while unaware that a photographer lurked nearby.

The woman, evidently unaccustomed to being contradicted, was pretty pissed off and unwilling to discuss how she had come by it. Over her objections, I took it down and copied the information on the back.

I've been in contact with the family of the late photographer and they have promised to look for the negative.

Scurry is in the middle of his first year of law school and found it interesting as well.

Rings90,

If the Badgers don't improve a lot, it would be nice if they let someone else go bowling- no?

What, oh, what does the following say of me?  I feel like Rapunzel, up in my castle window letting down my hair right here in front of God and everybody, hoping the right prince is drawn to mix of maturity, sense of humor, Paul Newman, John Updike, and red/auburn...always thought there was, as with most fairy tales, at least two levels of meaning there, maybe more.

And yes, I was indecisive often when pregnant, though never 'til you asked was I aware of it.  And yes, I overthink; on the other hand, sometimes I act on whim, and very often on gut instinct, which generally turns out well.

About the dancer: Why I started counting when she began I'll never know -- I often act without reason that seems reason, to others -- but she whirled 128 times, same direction to my eye but now I wonder if I missed something by counting. Perhaps because I studied ballet when young, then again as an adult, and yet again as adult, but I noticed two things off-key: She never lifted her foot, which couldn't possibly work, and she didn't 'spot-point,' i.e., when you're whirling in any form you pick a spot on a wall (or anything) and look at it every time you go round, else you get dizzy.  That's so beginnerish and simply practical -- well, so's the foot not lifting -- that one's not supposed to notice it, probably. This probably says my brain's mixed up. No surprise really, because in elementary school, remember the (hated) questions like  If' train A travels at 100 mph to Santa Fe, and Train B travels 150 mph, but leaves 37 minutes early...etc etc, well, I'd always do poorly on those because I'd see people in the trains, wonder about their stories, choose colors and styles for them, create stories for each, and time ran out. Assign me ten term papers to write, and I was happy and got A+, but deliver me from those Trains.

I shudder to think what y'all's verdicts are. I didn't comment on that page, as I belong to none of those things they offer -- The Eye is my only such gift, such endeavor.   

Georgia,

Those trains crashed anyway. Don't worry about it- everybody got out okay.

Georgia - Your comments are also quite kindly. Thank you. By the way, my name is Pam and you are welcome to call me that, if you wish.

Peter Lake - I hold you personally responsible for causing me to try, and now crave, Starbuck's Salted Caramel Signature Hot Chocolate - Thank you!

Frost's poem ends:

"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I -

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference."

For me; in living my life, making decisions, traveling to many places throughout the world, and coming here to the EyE, it has made all the difference and it's been a grand adventure.

Missy-thanks, girl! AND...two words-jogging pram. If they are too big, bike sidecar. Or, best of all, baby sitter! LOL

Georgia-You're a grand lassie, and you may call me by my real name, too-that would be Olivia. You're such a natural fit here, I'm sure we're all glad you joined up.

Stoney-You always seem to have the most interesting encounters. How wonderful!

John-You ARE the picture dude. Way!

Pam-you know...

The thing about marriage is this: If the time you spend without her is measured in stairmaster minutes, marry that woman now!

...apropos of nothing I just wrote, please forgive, but earlier I thanked a Member for being drawn as I to Cole Porter and his contemporaries (perhaps, also like me, to Francis Albert Sinatra for singing their work as no other could).  Said Member quoted from "Witchcraft": "...what good would common sense for it do?" which I momentarily confused with "That Old Black Magic," also Sinatra-sung, which, since that writing, wandered me straight to J.P.'s "New Black Magic Dress."

Connections abound even in simplicity, and each of us IS many:

"We cannot tell that we are constantly splitting into duplicate selves because our consciousness rides smoothly along only one path in the endlessly forking chains." (Martin Gardner, quoted by John Udike, Toward the End of Time) 

Once upon a time, I dated a guy who loved metaphors. Often, he told me that my bottom made him think of an apple he ate one time. I wasn't exactly sure what he was trying to say, but I decided to take this as a compliment. He assured me that it was...

By and by, he stated that watching me walk in a certain pencil skirt reminded him of two puppies fighting under a blanket. Confusing. Again, I made the decision to give him the benefit of the doubt. Things worked out well for quite some time after that, but I always said 'if you like the way I look, just TELL me', and he said that's what he was doing, so okay.

I'm not sure how that fits into the process of decision-making, but to paraphrase John Lee Hooker, that thought was in me, and it had to come out.

Updike, not Udike, for heaven's sake....

Olivia,

What kind of puupies- or didn't he specify?

Olivia, The version I heard ( and it is ALWAYS a compliment) is "two cats fighting in a croker sack".

Georgia, I once saw Updike read and once years before that, saw him in church in Paris... 

 Having led a deprived childhood, I didn't know much about Cole Porter until I was in college, flirting with those people in the resort I mentioned yesterday.  Francis Albert seems to have been around a little more, but Ella and Mr. Porter were just right at first hearing.

When we were talking about Nina S, whenever I talk about Nina S, I think of My Baby Just Cares for me.   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eYSbUOoq4Vg

If I got that wrong, just google it, svp. 

Heradotus commented on I believe the Thessolonians debating national decisions once drunk and once sober or vice versus. (Herodatus is on my re-read list, not sure I caught it well with the Grateful Dead in the background, but not sure that much has changed in thirty years).  Cant say its worked for me.

On another note, will take recommendations on a rowing machine.  Knees are pretty much too shot to run, the bike works in the summer, keeping whats left of the knees for tennis and skiing.  Has to be compact to fit in the little place.  Saw a fine rowing boat in Wooden Boat mag I may build in the spring.

When we discuss what to call people, I think of David Allen Coe.

You don't have to call me darlin, darlin...

A Pompeian whorehouse? Oh, heavens, I wouldn't need to cough up any money. I wouldn't even have to turn my head and cough up the money. There would just be money, and money aplenty. Rather like the whorehouse scenes in "Paint Your Wagon"; give them the boy, and have returned the man. Ahhh...

Missive I've got a mental picture of you with a harness on dragging your boys on a sled behind you...aand that sort of leads into a Rocky IV type training montage.

As for living with stinky boys...I grew up with 3 brothers, but I didn't REALLY understand living with boys until I lived with a friend in Ireland.  She has 6 sons, no daughters, and one very stinky, very childish ex-husband.  When I lived in the house one of her younger sons was being potty trained and we couldn't keep pants on that child, nightmare.  It was a steep learning curve.

I'm burning the midnight oil at work after a luffly afternoon with Sir Boyscout's family.  I finally got to meet his cousin, Lady Boyscout (no that shouldn't read Lady GirlScout), who just returned from her tour in Iraq.  She can strip an M4 blindfolded, she's not afraid to shoot someone AND she can shop and keep a man happy...I'm feeling slightly underachieving right about now.  It was like Martha Stewart meets GI Jane, I am in awe.

Thank you, Pam-Kindlee, and I shall.   And I am Eve. (A surname, but every few generations my family makes it a given name for someone, and it was my turn.)

No, I don't count as a regular thing; indeed I stay away from numbers -- except in doubling a recipe, say -- at every opportunity. I fear I'm being analyzed.... after my failure at the dancer-video, I expected it. 

Willie, we call everybody darlin' hereabouts. We do. Honest. Or sometimes "honey."  Well, neither is entirely true: I wouldn't, on short acquaintance, use either, but after a while if it's a friend you see often -- or a friend you don't see often -- then a hug and darlin' it is.

"It was like Martha Stewart meets GI Jane, I am in awe."

Me too, Nachista. Autographs?

Stoney,

Did she ever concede that it was you?

Georgia,  It had to happen. We may be kin.  Are your Eves like Oswell and are you related to Pritchards? Do you know where the Cottage Burial Ground is in Augusta?

Missive, no autograph and my hand still hurts from her handshake...no wet fish there.

Nachista, if we ever get a chance, I'll teach you my Wu-Tan Mountain Style "Handshake of Stone" technique. It's not a Death Grip style handshake, you know, the kind that Eddie Izzard describes when the offending gorilla grabs your hand as if to squeeze blood out of it, so you yell at the top of your lungs "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! WHAT THE F*CK ARE YOU DOING!!!!"

As I say, the Wu-Tan Mountain Style Handshake of Stone is a technique in which one's hand turns, seemingly, to granite. Without harming your "opponent" or appearing to engage in aggressive squeezy-squeezy, it conveys the very clear impression of someone not to be trifled with.

Unhunged,

Go with the sliding seat rowing vessel. You won't be sorry- promise.

MissIve,

I don't think she could given the BS that had grown up around it but all of the other drinkers did. It was funny and I came close to walking out with that photo under my arm.

If I looked like that guy, I'd print my own money. You can't argue with biopsy scars that don't tan.

YE

Tits, tats and puppy face. My concentration is shot.

Meant to mention that "Rides Again" found its way out of the upstairs "library" acquiring different bookmarks during the holidays. It was quoted a number of times during drinks.

Decision: I started The Sound and the Fury yesterday. I hated the first page.

Should I finish, or am I finally at the age where I can honestly say that time is running out and you can't read them all?

It's just that (read: very whiny voice), everyone always makes grand reference to that bloody book and I want to be able to intelligently 'hang' at smarty-pants cocktail parties instead of asking where I can find the loo and more crab cakes.

Missy,

Faulkner can be a little like pulling hair out of your nose.

NEAR MISS part 6

Glancing out the window and across the meadow, I felt the wry face go on. Sleet. Miss Q would be in her glory, and I a Dreamsicle, as Man Dear liked to say. Cheeks reddening already, I set out my gear: the muck boots, silk tights, wool jodhpurs. Ooh, and the tall woolly socks-yes! Hmmm, silk and cashmere turtleneck? Check. The necessaries. The capeskin gloves. Big felt hat. Cashmere scarf-the long one. The hacking jacket. Wait-with sleet, better go with the Aussie...what the hell, both. It's cold. And one never knows where one might end up, what? I pointed the big Baigish field glasses out the bow window-yes, definitely a curl of smoke upon the horizon. He was to home. A good sign...of course QM had been asking for a visit with his stallion, and who am I to deny her? Put those plain things back...the lace necessaries would, um, have to do.

The tea was surely stept. Bit of milk, and Bob's your uncle. Bother-there's the last of the milk. Now I'd certainly a good cause to travel.

And where has Sarita taken herself off to? I hate doing French braids by myself. I stamped a foot in mock petulance, then grinned at myself in the mirror. Gave her the day off, didn't you? Crafty wee thing...

The phone went, and I was off like a shot. Stood and waited until the third ring began, then picked up, languid like.

"Hello? Oh, darling, there you are. How was Kinsale, how's your mum? Did you think to bring me scones? A dozen mixed? You ARE a dear. I was just going riding, after a cuppa. Out of milk, so it's an errand, you see. What? I never heard of a Bentley wanting exercise, you daft man. I'll just put the kettle on. Drive carefully, and don't forget the milk."

Glancing out the window, I noticed a, no two, figures across the way, on horseback. I trained the glasses on them, and there he was. The hat, the coat, it had to be. Either Pascal, or Sarita, or somebody, was giving out the pay on my wee ways. Well, no matter. The sleet was letting off, so I was happy for them. But there'd be no horsing about today-at least, not out there. So, missed me again. I looked at my lacies-yes they'd do very nicely.

Tea and scones...how lovely :)

Stoney,

(Laughing audibly) So is that a yes or a no? Interesting analogy considering my request implied a desire to be more pleasing to those in my immediate proximity at a social gathering, and, certainly, both activities would fit that bill. Too funny.

MissIve,
I'm with Stoney on this one. I'd stop plucking and find a book you love at first line instead. The tearing will cause your mascara to run which is way uncool for a party unless it has a Goth theme.

Besides, what could be more important than knowing the whereabouts of the loo (this knowledge grants you great assumed power and spontaneous authority) and more importantly, know when the crab cakes will be refreshed, as well as where they will be delivered. Keep your towel handy, it'll help you ambush the crab cakes en route. They won't know what hit them.

Peace out!
John

Olivia,

Can't wait to read Part 7.

Willie - yes, to all your questions!  Who'd a' thunk it?  Much more we could say but I"m out tyhe door this minute.  We ARE related, no doubt about it.  More....

Wiliie Trask, yes, cousins are we; don't see how it could be other, given your clues. Recently there's been cleaning and fixing in the Eves' Cottage Cemetery, which I missed because of hospitalization, but reports are they made enormous progress. Sarah Pritchard, a friend, dug out when and which Pritchard wed into us Eves, and sent me that; coincidentally I saw her today, but before your revelation. D'you know Pat Kruger in Charleston, a cousin, genealogist by trade, who's done good work -- I'm supposed to help her 'translate' another old family journal she found -- health got in the way but I plan still to do it. Given spelling in 1700s, and how they shaped letters, her husband's interest span in the task is a few minutes, but I've done some of that work and plan to help her when I can get there.

Oh, you SAW Mr. U TWICE!! May I touch you? I once drove to Atlanta to hear him read, didn't know 'til that day (they didn't advertise) so grabbed an armful, probably 12 or more of his books (I read his every word) and threw them in the car in case I was brave enough to ask for one to be signed. There, trying not to look like the middle-aged groupie I was, I took only one in, hid in my pocketbook. He was all I'd hoped -- tricky when you've read someone long (I'd fallen in love with Robert Anderson when at 21 I saw Tea and Sympathy; 20 yrs later he comes here to Sandhills Writers' Conference, and I feared going to his lecture in case he'd disappoint, went at last minute; he was all I'd hoped...oddly, as I met him only once, he wrote to me later; you never know.  That probably made me braver about JU).  Afterward, word was whispered about that behind the curtain he was signing books, so I went. People in front of me all had armloads, which he graciously signed, making conversation. I proferred my one, and he looked up, winked, said, Is this ALL my work you have? I mumbled In the car ...dozen...and he stood up and said Let's you and me go out there and I'll sign them all.  Ladies clearly assigned to protect him from the public pushed him down, reminded him he had to get to a party; I was walking away, having said Thank you, and he rose again, saying Wait! I'm coming! but I knew his monitors would corral him. (They did.) Lovely moment, though.

I too had, in many respects a deprived childhood, but fortunately Daddy loved standards and oldies, and taught me to dance as a toddler, my sock feet atop his shoes, he singing.  Born too late, I'd not have known the great and good but for him, and records.

What are the odds, Mr. P, of relations finding each other in The Community? Are we still allowed, or does that constitute incest?

Peter, thank you for liking my writing. As I like yours.  Eve