Happy Complainer

You and I, We (or at least Most Other People) are too lazy. Either that or we’re too smart. We’re smart enough to not do anything that we don’t absolutely have to. You see this when people stand on escalators. They walk up to the escalator and then all of sudden it’s as if their legs become incapable of moving. They walk, walk, walk, and they will even climb stairs, but if those stairs are moving, then they will stop walking—even if the moving stairs are moving more slowly than they could move themselves. This is kind of mind-boggling. It’s as if it’s built into us not to do any more work than we have to. But who could blame us, really? Well, I could. Because this efficient laziness is efficient only if things stay the same. Creatures sprout wings when they need to fly and the wings start to devolve as soon as there’s no need for them. But there’s the problem. Who’s to say what we might need and when we might need it? Flying fish can escape predators that swim-only fish cannot. At that moment when the swim-only fish is being devoured and watching the flying fish fly away, the swim-only fish is thinking to itself, “I guess it wouldn’t have been such a waste of time and effort to grow those wings and practice flying.”

The problem with this efficient laziness is that not doing anything until you have to means that we don’t learn or grow until we have to. But why wait? Why stand on an escalator that is moving more slowly than you can walk? Annie Dillard, in one of her wonderful books, said something like, “Flat terrain leads to a dull mind.” I read somewhere that trees only usually gain rings every year but they don’t always gain a ring because the gaining of a ring is not due to the mere passing of time but due to an event and a reaction that usually occurs annually, such as a harsh winter. If a winter is particularly mild, then the tree doesn’t get a ring. You have to earn your stripes. This is the problem: In the middle of a mild winter, we have to pretend it’s harsher than it is and prepare solutions to problems that we haven’t encountered yet. Who would do that?

Would you?

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Complaint: There aren’t enough hours in the day to do what I want to get done.
Solution: Define progress in terms of doing rather than in terms of doneness.

Whenever a new year rolls around I find myself thinking about what I’ve done and what I haven’t done in the last year. And I always feel like I haven’t done enough. I feel like there aren’t enough hours in the day to do what I want get done. But I actually don’t really know what that means. It’s sort of a strange thought, isn’t it? Because isn’t there a strand of time that starts at my doorstep and unravels to the horizon, which is several years down the road? I’m given 5 years or an hour and I can sort of do anything I want, I just can’t do it all at once. I have to choose. And you have to choose. We all have to choose. So let’s choose. But we can’t really complain. If I choose to spend my hour learning how to play the guitar, then I can’t complain about not having enough time to learn how to play the saxophone because I could have spent that hour learning how to play the saxophone.

The situation reminds me a bit of a joke I heard once: A man orders a pizza and the pizza guy asks, “Do you want that cut into 6 slices or 8 slices?” The man answers, “You’d better make it 6—I don’t think I can eat 8.” An hour is an hour any way you slice it, and so is a day. So the people who are asking for more hours in the day are like people asking for 26 slices instead of 24. You won’t get 26 60-minute hours, you’ll just get 26 55-minute hours, which is the same as 24 60-minute hours. The only thing that we can complain about is ourselves being bad choicemakers. But that’s a different sort of complaint and it’s correctable. So making the right choices is the thing to focus on, not wishing for 26 60-minute hours.

Even if you could have 26 60-minute hours, I don’t think it would feel like you had more time. Suppose that I informed you that you would live to be 100 years old, not 90 like you were expecting. Would you feel, in this moment, that suddenly you had a lot more time to do stuff? Would you relax and move more slowly, now that you knew you had 10 extra years to do all the things that you had wanted to do? It’s hard to imagine that this knowledge would affect how you would live a big chunk of time, like 5 years or more.

The main issue here is progress but how a something progresses is often largely out of our control. The idea that there aren’t enough hours in the day to do what I want get done conflates two different things—doing things and getting things done. These should be kept separate. Doing things has to do with the doing, which we can control, and getting things done has to do with the doneness, which we can’t control. With many, perhaps all, things, I’m not in control of whether something gets done or not; I can only control what I do. For example, I can spend all day trying to invent a hovercraft but that doesn’t mean that my efforts will result in the existence of a hovercraft. Similarly, I can commit 2 minutes of my life to baking a potato but that’s not going to result in me having a baked potato because that’s not enough time to cook it.

While I was living on Molokai, I came up with a way of separating my life choicemaking from my life progress. Molokai is a very special place. On Molokai, there is enough time to get stuck in the mud, walk sideways, and read all of the coupons. Like so:

There is nothing to do on Molokai and that’s why I went there. I kind of like to do nothing. It appeases my inner slacker. But one day, I did nothing and it was slightly upsetting because that day I wanted to get stuff done. I looked at my list of things to do and how much I didn’t get done and then I looked at my day and what I did. I asked myself what I did because I knew that “nothing” couldn’t be literally nothing. I had done something with my time, I just hadn’t crossed anything off my list. So what had I done?

What I discovered was that I had meditated, done some yoga, and made breakfast. I went for a run, had a shower, read a book, hung out in a hammock, wrote a little bit, and took a nap. I had some friends from the east end over for tacos and we drank some beers as the sun went down. When they left, I cleaned up and then sat out in front and looked at the stars. It was a great day. I didn’t check anything off of my to-do list, but it was a great day. It was the type of day that someone should be proud of, not ashamed of or upset by, and so I created “Mitch’s Life “Progress” Chart, in Terms of Stars and Little Pictures”, to acknowledge the greatness of this great day and other days like it. My life chart is a picture journal that documents my day’s activities. It is based on the idea that choicemaking and progress should be kept separate. Although my goals may include inventing a hovercraft and baking a potato, my biggest goal is to spend my time on the things that matter to me, in amounts that seem appropriate to me. I believe all of those people who say that no one on their deathbed ever wishes they spent more time in the office. So my goal is to make sure that I’m spending my time on the things that are important to me. I want to make sure that I’m slicing my life up the way I want to—a certain percentage on work, a certain percentage on leisure, a certain percentage hanging out with friends and family, a certain percentage reading books, a certain percentage enjoying the great outdoors, and so on. If I’ve got the percentages right, then I’m happy. Even if I don’t have a hovercraft at the end of one day and it takes me several days to bake a potato.

If I’m spending my time on things that I want to, in percentages that I approve of, then what more can I ask for? Sure, it would be nice if I could create a hovercraft in a day but if I can’t, then I don’t want to spend all of my time on that project at the expense of the other things that I want in my life. I don’t want to work everyday all day long on the hovercraft because it would mean foregoing vacations, time with my family and friends, surfing, taking photos, etc. What kind of life would that be? Not the one for me. I want a life balanced like this:

If you like the idea of gauging your life progress in terms of how closely you are spending your time compared with your ideal spending of time, or if you just like the idea of giving yourself stars and drawing little pictures, knowing that not even 4th graders are judging you, here’s how to set it up:

1. Buy some shiny star stickers.

When I have run out of stars, I have used markers instead and I have to say, the sticker stars are much more satisfying.

2. Decide what a five-star day would be for you and define the stars accordingly.

For example, mine are:

3. Think of other things you value and want to be part of your life and define the rest of your legend. They can be activities as well as attitudes or mindsets.

Here are some of mine:

4. Track your progress everyday, at the end of the day.

This was my day today:

Translation: I bought some shiny star stickers before work because I ran out. Then I went to work and I’m grateful that I have work, that it’s engaging, and that my coworkers are nice. For lunch I tried a new place called Macellato the Sandwich. I ordered the fish sandwich but when I got back to the office I discovered that it was a chicken sandwich—but I also discovered that tartar sauce tastes pretty good on chicken sandwiches too. So the long-wavy-armed stick figure represents me going with the flow. Lunch is enjoyable even when you don’t get what you ordered. The pi-shaped looking thing next to the plate and fork is actually a road symbolizing that I went somewhere that I’ve never been before—in this case it was the Macellato the Sandwich shop not Guatemala but I can’t get to Guatemala on my lunch break. I ate lunch with my coworkers, Karl, Beth, and Kathy, and they are wonderful, so they get stick figure representation in my day. After work, I bought some shoes—that’s what the shopping bag is for. Then I played volleyball (that’s using my body, so I get a green star) and I was grateful that my friend, Chris, could sub for us because we were short players and also it’s always nice to see Chris. The last item is a blank piece of paper, which represents the writing that I did for this blog post. All in all it was a pretty good day. I “was happy and enjoyed life”, so by the power vested in me by me, I get a blue star.

What’s nice about doing this at the end of the day is that it makes you remember “Oh yeah, I went for a run today, and wasn’t that nice?”

Try keeping track of your Life Progress in terms of whether you’re spending the right amounts time on the things that matter to you and whether you’re cultivating the attitudes that you want to have—in other words, try keeping track of your Life Progress in terms of Stars and Little Pictures. Try it for a day. You might like it.

Namaste.

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Happy New Year! The new year is bound to bring new products and with new products come new complaints and when we address these new complaints, we will have found new reasons to be happy. So it’s a good day. A new day. Happy New Day. I’ve got no complaints.

Yet. :)

This one is for all you handle jigglers out there.

Okay, so this is How to Fix Your Toilet So that You Don’t Have to Jiggle the Handle Anymore, Ever.

This is what’s happening inside the tank. You flush the toilet by pressing down on the handle. The handle lifts up a chain inside the tank that is attached to the plug. Then the tank water goes through the hole and down into the toilet bowl.

Here’s what it looks like:

Every once in a while, part of the chain falls into the hole before the plug does and so the hole isn’t blocked completely and water continues to run through the hole and down into the bowl. When you jiggle the handle, you are jerking this chain out from under the plug, allowing the plug fall back into its hole completely. Now, you will only ever have to do this if there is enough slack in the chain for part of it to get caught underneath the plug. If you shorten the chain so that it’s not long enough to get caught underneath the plug, then it won’t ever get caught underneath the plug and you won’t ever have to jiggle the handle to loose it free. So don’t jiggle the handle. Shorten the chain.

© Lynn Johnston. Republished with permission. Thanks Lynn! More of Lynn’s cartoons >>

It has been said that if you want it to be soft everywhere you walk, then you can either cover the whole world in leather or you can buy some shoes. Unfortunately, if you want it to be user-friendly everywhere you walk, there is only one option: You have to cover the whole world in user-friendliness. That’s where I come in. I put on my user-friendly shoes and go outside. But when I stub my toe, I don’t recoil or go around the obstacle like a normal person. I kick. Like an obstinate person. But I kick because I care. Today, the idea that I’m going to kick around is the public map, the kind you see at a bus stop or in a plaza.

These map things in general are great because I can’t see around corners without a periscope and it’s nice to know what’s around me. I’m happy there are maps. The “You are here” dot is a nice addition to a public map because it saves me and everyone else looking at the map the time it would take to figure out where we are on the map as we are viewing it. Thank you, Inventor of the “You are here” Dot. We appreciate you. So far, so good. But this next part gets me. I don’t want to just stand here and look at the map all day—I’ve got places to go and people to see. So now I’m looking at this map trying to figure out how to get where I want to go. If the map were friendly, it would tell me which way I was facing as I viewed the map. But it doesn’t tell me which way I’m facing, so I have to figure that out by myself. Me no like having to figure out stuff myself if me no have to.

When I’m in a car using a map, I can turn the map so that north is no longer at the top of the map and the map is in line with the territory that I’m driving through. Many GPSs do this automatically and this is how these public maps should be positioned. It’s all about me.

Suppose this is me:

I’m at the corner of North St and West St, facing west as I look at a public map. If I were on this corner facing north while I was facing the public map, then I would have no objections to north being at the top of the map—I would like it. But I’m facing west. If I’m facing west while I’m facing the map, then west should be at the top of the map. You can still show me which way north is, but it shouldn’t always be at the top of the map just because it’s north. That’s northist. If the direction that I’m facing were always at the top of the map, then it would save me the time and trouble of having to rotate this map around in my head to figure out which way I need to go to get to my destination. Map big, brain small. Please change. Thank you.

To show the user that the map is oriented the same way that they are, you could show a person and the map on the map.

Suppose this is you, facing west while viewing the map:

Do you want to see this map?

Or this map?

North ain’t so special, right?
So let’s stop being northist!

© Mitchell Joe 2010

We’ve all been there. In the back seat. Trying to be safe. Putting our seatbelts on, and then Wham! It doesn’t click fastened. Why? Because we’re sitting on the side, and that buckle belongs to The Center Seatbelt. Oh.

No, wait, I’m sorry. I don’t get it. Why again?

I’m going to pretend that I am as naïve as the tourist that I am on this matter. What makes The Center Seatbelt so stinking special that it gets its own special buckle? Why can’t I just find a belt and find a buckle? What if the car were speeding along when I realized that I didn’t have my seatbelt on and then I noticed that we were about to crash and as I put my seatbelt into a buckle it didn’t click and then the car crashed and I was flying through the air with my seatbelt in one hand and an incompatible buckle in the other? What then?

I doubt that there is any good reason for this incompatibility but I will give The Car People the benefit of the doubt because I’m sure they must have thought that there was some good reason to do this. No one would go through the trouble of making seatbelt buckles incompatible with each other for no good reason…would they?

Morse Code is virtually obsolete for very good reason. Don’t get me wrong, if I’m ever stranded on a desert island with a lighthouse and a book called “Teach Yourself Morse Code”, I’ll learn the code and be very grateful for it, but as I type now to communicate with you over there wherever you are, I’m very grateful for all these different keys on my keyboard and the fact that I don’t have to type “….” to communicate the letter “H” to you. Typing would be tedious if instead of pressing the “H” key once, I had to press the “.” key four times.

Compare this:

The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.

with this:

- .... . / --.- ..- .. -.-. -.- / -... .-. --- .-- -. / ..-. --- -..- / .--- ..- -- .--. ... / --- ...- . .-. / - .... . / .-.. .- --.. -.-- / -.. --- --. .-.-.-

The Morse Code version is much longer. Now, in the spirit of saving time, I don’t really see why I should have to double click anything. Ever. I understand why, on occasion, I may have to click or press things once. Once. I accept this. I step into the elevator and it needs to know where I want to go, so I tell it. That’s fine, perfectly fine. But if I had to press the “5” button TWICE to tell the elevator that I want to go to the 5th floor, well, I don’t know about you, but I would be slightly annoyed. And the more often I rode this quirky elevator, the more annoyed I would become. I would become more than slightly annoyed, in fact. I might even start to tell cyber strangers about this terrible experience and ask The Powers That Be, The People Who Make Mice, to please, please, please put another button on my mouse that I can press just once and then have this very smart computer thingy interpret my single action as a double click. Otherwise, I’m spending part of my day doing something equivalent to entering a bit of Morse Code. Click click. I want to get to the 5th floor and don’t see why I should have to press anything twice to communicate this. I want to get to the 5th floor and don’t see why I should have to press anything twice to communicate this.

.--. .-.. . .- ... . / .... . .-.. .--. / -- . .-.-.- / .. / .- -- / ... - .-. .- -. -.. . -.. / --- -. / .- / .--. .-.. .- -. . - / - .... .- - / ... - .. .-.. .-.. / ..- ... . ... / -- --- .-. ... . / -.-. --- -.. . .-.-.-

Many shower spaces are square. And in these many square shower spaces, the drain is usually right smack dab in the middle of the floor. And so are my feet. So I find myself standing in the middle of the shower space with water falling on me and my sweet bare feet—which are trying to get and stay clean—are finding themselves uncomfortably close to where all the dirty dirt drains.

I guess I could move. I could stand in the corner and point the water toward me in the corner and just have my shower over in the corner. But that seems kind of silly.

I’d much rather have the person who made the shower put the drain off to the side.

Or better yet, put the drain in the corner.

You might worry that if the water drained to the corner, then the surface that you’re standing on would be tilted asymmetrically and feel awkward.

But the water doesn’t have to drain like that. The water could drain like this so that you weren’t standing on an asymmetrically tilted surface.

Are you listening, Person Who Makes Showers??

Happy Thanksgiving! Today, I’m happy not to complain. I’m happy to just give thanks. I’m thankful that the Native Americans got along well enough with the pilgrims to share a meal together. I’m thankful that whatever they planted sprouted and grew. I’m thankful for sunshine. I’m thankful for seeds that know which way to grow. I’m thankful for turkey, gravy, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy (it’s worth a second mention), naw mie fan, ham, salads, salad dressing, croutons, dinner rolls, butter, and pumpkin pie. I’m thankful for the farmers that farmed it all, the cooks who cooked it all, and everyone in between. I’m thankful for friends and family. I’m thankful for the telephone, the television, the microwave, the stove, and the oven. I’m thankful for shelter. I’m thankful for the knife, the fork, and the spoon. I’m thankful for the sun, I’m thankful for the moon. I’m thankful there’s plenty for everyone. Because I want seconds. :)

Cantaloupes are not very user-friendly. You have to use a knife to cut them in half, then use a spoon to take the seeds out, then use a spoon to eat it, and then when you eat it, it wobbles. I don’t know who makes these things. But whoever does make them should talk to the guy who makes apples. Those things are user-friendly—you just grab them and eat them. Ah, apples.

Anyway, I have an idea about how to fix the cantaloupes. After you’ve cut it in half and taken the seeds out, cut off part of the bottom so that the bottom is flat. It’s part of the melon that you won’t eat anyway because it’s too close to the rind and after you’ve cut it off, the melon won’t wobble. Hooray!

How to Make Your Cantaloupe More User-Friendly from Mitchell Joe on Vimeo.