We live in a society that adores multi-tasking. We watch television while we cook. We listen to the radio (or MP3s, or DVDs, or CDs, or whatever) while we drive. We talk on the phone while we iron. We text while walking the dog. We read while we brush our teeth … (or, is that just me?) We dart back and forth between windows on our computer screens, checking emails, sending tweets, while also writing blog posts, reading message boards, and keeping an eye on the news on the television in the corner. Not to mention answering questions, watching the kids, throwing balls for the dog, running errands…

It’s rare to sit and do ONE thing any more.

Even when you’re doing something that should exclude other activities, it’s hard to focus. When I shower each day, my mind is running over problems. You would think I’d be concentrating on the water, the soap, and not slipping and falling, but no. I watch television while I knit, rather than focusing on what my hands are doing. I check email while talking on the telephone instead of giving my full attention to the person on the other end.

Well, last night, our power went out.

Only for an hour or so, but it left me sitting in a dark room, with a candle, and the choice of straining my eyes trying to read or knit in the dim light, or opening up my netbook and writing. (I have to say, I DO love the battery power of my little netbook. It really does last for 8+ hours.)

I picked the writing, and I have to tell you. A miracle happened.

Sitting in a dark room with nothing to see except the computer screen? And, since the family’s wireless router doesn’t work without electricity, without the distraction of the internet? None of the usual, “That was a great couple of paragraphs, so I’ll reward myself by checking my email.” Nothing to distract me at ALL except to reach over and pet my dog from time to time. (The blackout spooked him, everything was so DARK.)

Well, it was amazing. I had no choice but to focus, and surprisingly, I actually remembered how.

Because the flip side of being able to DO so many things all the time, all at once, is that our collective attention span is getting shorter all the time. I used to be able to sit with a homework assignment and a notebook for at least an hour and really FOCUS on that one thing, but I’ve lost that. These days, the only thing that gets that level of concentration from me is, sadly, not writing, but reading. Hand me a book I haven’t read before and I’ll do nothing else for however many hours it takes, but anything else? Nope. Can’t do it anymore. True, it’s been 20 years since I’ve been out of school, and minds wander more as they get older. (My theory on that is that, since the legs are getting wearier, the mind decides to travel more on its own. Why should the mind AND the body be stuck in one place?)

Mostly, though, it’s that pesky modern living thing that’s causing the trouble. We’re so linked-in, connected, and intertwined and busy ALL the time, none of us has had to focus on any one thing for more than 5 minutes in over a decade. Sure, there are still professions that require absolute focus–you don’t want your brain surgeon stopping midway through a procedure to tweet about his lunch–but in general, we’re losing our ability to do just one thing at a time and do it really well.

Am I the only one this bothers?

I’ve decided I’m going to try to focus more.

• I’m going to try to forget the internet exists when I sit down to write–no checking emails between sentences!

• I’m going to try to limit my time on social media distractions. They’re good, they’re important, they’re fun, but they’re time-sucks, and worse, they’re attention-suckers. When part of my brain is whining, “What’s happening on Twitter?” while I try to do, well, anything, that’s counter-productive. So I’ll try to put restrictions on that kind of stuff.

• I’m going to leave the television off more often. I used to leave it off entirely unless there was something I wanted to watch, but I’ve gotten into the habit of putting it on in the background, which is much too distracting.

• I’m going to try knitting and spinning in a quiet room for a change, just to see if that helps me regain some focus, like a training exercise. If I can relearn how to focus on the one thing I am doing, maybe it will be easier when I’m sitting in front of the computer, too.

How’s that for a start? What suggestions do you have? Am I the only one struggling with this?

Like many girls, when I was little, I wanted to be a princess. I wanted to wear the floaty skirts.I wanted the jeweled crown–gold, of course, to go with my then-blonde hair. I wanted birds to help me get dressed in the morning, and to go to balls.I wanted to live in a romantic (though no doubt drafty) castle.

In short, I wanted to be perfect.

Because, you understand, I thought princesses were perfect. Did you ever see Cinderella lose her composure? Did Snow White throw temper tantrums? Did Sleeping Beauty forget to make her bed in the morning? No, of course not. They were princesses and raised to meet a higher standard of behavior. I was convinced that, if I just had that full-skirted ball gown to wear, I would suddenly behave just like a perfect princess should.

My mother used to love when I’d pretend to be a princess. I’d sit up straight. I’d say please and thank you without prompting. My clothes would stay neat, I wouldn’t fidget. And my table manners? Well, they were not only good, they were superb. I would even eat my peas one at a time because (naturally) a true princess wouldn’t be so gauche as to eat them by the forkfull.

I was remembering this the other night while I was goofing off, watching episodes of The West Wing on DVD rather than settling down to write, or to do some necessary filing, or even plug away at my knitting.

A princess would never goof off.

Being responsible, as they must be, a true princess (or prince) clearly meets their obligations promptly and without hesitation. Duty comes before pleasure.

A princess is always neat.

Take a look around. Is your desk covered with papers? Are there files on the floor? Piles on the chair? This is NOT royal behavior. Whether your castle has a staff or not, there is simply no excuse to make all this extra work for whomever does the cleaning–especially if it’s you. It’s easier to file one or two things right now than it is to wait until you have a pile of fifty items which will take a chunk of your time.

A princess has exquisite manners.

Have you received an invitation to a ball? (Or a meeting, seminar, or even just a request for a phone call?) Naturally it is only proper behavior to respond promptly and courteously. Not all of us have a social secretary to handle these mundane chores for us, but it is rude to keep people waiting, so please respond promptly to requests for your attention.

A princess takes responsibility for her actions

As tempting as it is to blame the peasants when things go wrong, a true princess understands that her country’s well-being is ultimately her responsibility.

A princess is always perfectly dressed.

A true princess would never dream of rolling out of bed and going down to the throne room in her bathrobe and slippers (exquisite though they undoubtedly are). No, she is always dressed in exactly the right attire for any occasion, with her hair neatly coiffed. She has too much respect for herself, her kingdom, and the responsibilities of her job to lounge around in sloppy clothes. I wouldn’t go so far as to tell you that you should sit at your computer in stockings and heels (or a suit and tie) at 5:00 am, but show some respect for the work you do, and at least put shoes on. And brush your hair, if you can’t find some helpful birds to comb it for you.

A princess always has sunshine.

The weather is always perfect when you’re a princess–sunshine, happy birds tweeting, puffy white clouds dotting a blue, blue sky. Really, though, the secret is that the princess brings the sunshine with her. She loves what she does and focuses on spreading joy and understanding because strife comes too often from outside her borders–she does what she can to keep her own kingdom on the right track. This is not the same as being blind to the things that need to be fixed, but more about the certainty that things will get done.

See? Even us peons can at least act like we’re royal … because inside, aren’t we all?

It’s so easy to get caught up in the technological marvels of the 21st century. High-speed internet access and wi-fi at every corner. Cordless telephones and cellphones to keep in touch everywhere we go. Computers and email have far eclipsed fax machines and typewriters. We can bring our entire music collection with us in our pockets so we always have something to listen to, and more and more we can bring our libraries as well. Even cooking is high-speed, with microwaves and prepared convenience foods.

Still … there are lessons to be learned.

Let’s wax nostalgic for a moment, shall we? Let’s all think of those golden days of yore when people lounged on their front porches drinking lemonade; when children played ball in the street. Let’s remember a time when…

• We put letters in the mail and were happy to wait one or two weeks before we got a response.
• We did not expect answers to be instantaneous.
• We were happy visiting the library for books to read or to reference.
• We regularly met with our friends in person, and even dropped into each others’ houses regularly.
• We understood that travel could be an adventure to be savored, not a hassle to be rushed through.
• We wrote long, thoughtful, descriptive letters to friends, family, and even near-strangers, just as a way of keeping in touch and sharing our lives.
• We wrote them by hand, usually in ink, while sitting at a desk and relishing the feel of the pen in our hand and the texture of the paper under the nib. (Oh, and we had the penmanship to match.)
• We had telephones that stayed in one place, so that we couldn’t walk all over the house while on a call–instead, we stayed in one place and focused on the conversation.
• We took the time to do things well and thoroughly, without worrying about tight deadlines or the need to get on to the next thing.
• We understood that the world was wide and relished the communities we built close to home.
• We went to school to learn to think, not just to get passing grades, and then we took that ability to think to create the world we wanted to live in.

It’s easy to get so caught up in the urgent forward movement of progress. The desire to discover the “next new thing,” and to play with all the new gadgets is tempting to say the least. Because, let’s admit it, they’re fun.

As much as I always wanted to go back and really see what history was like, I would not want to give up any of my modern conveniences. I love email and twitter to connecting to my friends. I can’t imagine life without internet access any more than I could imagine not having light (or air conditioning). And I really, really like my indoor plumbing, thank you.

It’s important, though, to remember how far we’ve come. To look back to acknowledge the progress we’ve made, the changes that have occured … and to note the little grace notes of life that may have been drowned out in technology’s hum.

Even with my appreciation for the past, I wouldn’t want to live there. It was hot without air conditioning, and I’m not fond of growing my own food. But, still, some things were valuable, and some skills should be saved. I cook from scratch, and bake my own bread. I spin yarn and knit it into sweaters and socks. I like these things but I’m not going to give up my jeans or the convenience of a grocery store.

And the internet. I say we definitely keep that. Or how would you leave me comments?

We’ve all heard the platitudes. “Life is too short.” “Live the dream.” “Carpe Diem, Sieze the Day.” But have you really thought about what that means?

One of my co-workers at my day job … a woman I’ve worked with for fourteen years … died on Saturday from a sudden heart attack. This a woman who’s held down two jobs for as long as I’ve known her, and who was planning on taking her first-ever cruise sometime next year, after her second grandson was born in March. I’m glad for her sake that her death was so quick, and that it happened while she was actually out with a friend, having fun, rather than sitting at her desk or behind the Quick Check counter, but still …

In honor of my co-worker Liz, ask yourself the following questions:

• What have you put off that you truly would love to do?
• Are you spending your days doing something you love? Or at least, not spending them doing something you hate?
• What goals do you have for “someday” that you could be doing now?
• Are you spending enough time with the people that you love?

And then, the next, most important question?

What can you do about it?

I have a problem.

We moved two weeks ago.

That might not seem insurmountable to you, but this is the first time (not counting dorm rooms in college) that I’ve moved in 34 years, and I think my system is still in shock.

I knew, of course, that the first week or so would be, well, impossible for me to concentrate on writing anything (not to mention finding the computer). Tweets, sure. 140 characters I could manage. I found the energy to blog about the actual move (18 and a half hours!) over at my other blog.

But … writing? Real writing?

I haven’t been able to summon the energy.

Not the physical energy, so much, as the mental energy. The emotional wherewithal to plumb words to throw at the keyboard.

These last two weeks, I’ve been, well, nesting. It’s the only way I can describe it. I’ve been unpacking and arranging things; organizing; setting up. I’ve been spending time in the kitchen, cooking up rich-smelling delicacies like homemade tomato sauce, vegetable soup, and cakes. I’ve even been sitting at my spinning wheel, twirling lengths of wool roving into bobbins of yarn–being more productive there than I have been in months.

But anything remotely work-like? Productive in a commercial way? I can’t quite summon up the energy.

This is a real problem. (Not least of which because that 18-hour move cost well more than the original estimate so money is, if possible, even tighter.)

So, folks, give me some advice. What do I need to do to get my groove back? How do I find the mental focus to do marketing and promote myself and my business when all I really want to do is curl up with my dog and a good book (and some homemade goodies) until things start feeling normal again?

I am so conflicted about my schedule, it’s not even funny.

We’re in the process of moving from our home of 34 years, and time-management has been forefront in my mind for weeks now, as I juggle my full-time job, my freelancing, my novel-writing, blog-writing (not that you would know that, sorry) … and, oh yes, packing.

The irony is that, the more things that I have to do, and have to do right now, the less time I have to organize myself. It’s just one more item on the to-do list, right?

Well, no, not really.

When things are slow, why would you need a schedule?

I’ve gone for years at a time without keeping a schedule, or even writing things down on the calendar. Vacations might have been marked off with a highlighter, or, maybe, I’d scribble down the time of my next dentist appointment, but otherwise? I had no need to “schedule” anything. I had a regular job that I went to five days a week, followed by a quiet evening at home, curled up with my books or my computer monitor. The only thing time-related thing I had to worry about showing up to the office on time.

Who needed a schedule? It was simple enough, and routine enough, that the rare alterations like doctor visits were easy to keep in my head.

Shortly before that, though, it had been different. I had a datebook/calendar system in college to keep track of my classes, my assignments, when papers and exams were due—all the irregular things that make college life so varied.

So, why would I need a schedule now?

Obviously, the useful thing about a meticulous calendar schedule is that you don’t have to rely on your memory to show up for appointments or meet your due-dates. They’re right there in black and white. If you’re using an electronic scheduler, you can even program reminders that pop up an hour, a day, or even a week in advance—all to make sure you don’t forget the meeting with your most important client, or forget to send your Mom’s birthday card.

• Schedules can remind you of places you need to be, things you need to do.
• Schedules can remind you of the things you WANT to do—things that aren’t as firm as an actual appointment, but that are on your To-Do list.
• Schedules can serve as a record of what you’ve done. Can’t remember when you talked to John about that brochure project? Glance back through your schedule.
• Schedules can be a place to jot down ideas as they happen—just because you’ll have it with you, and not only is it important to record them when they occur, it’s important to record when they happen, for future reference. (“Oh yes, I had that idea on a Thursday afternoon, right after I spilled coffee on my keyboard.” You never know when information like that could be handy.)

There are two tricks, though.

Any calendar is useless if you don’t fill it in.

It doesn’t matter what calendar system you’re using—a paper date-book organizer, an electronic schedule, a series of post-its, or a secretary (sorry, administrative assistant). If you don’t add in the things you need to do, it’s not going to do you any good.

I’ll confess that whenever I’ve tried to institute an efficient calendar system, I’ve quickly failed, dwindling away from the routine of writing things down—just like a New Year’s diet resolution wastes away to nothing by February.

Use any system you want, but write things down, preferably before they happen. Write down the “hard” events like meetings, phone calls, appointments—those are easy—but also enter the “soft” events like reminders to follow-up with a client, or to check in with a prospect.

Writing your schedule down doesn’t help you if you never bother to look.

This is my other problem—even in those few weeks when I try to be as organized and efficient as possible about scheduling my time—I have a nasty habit of writing things down, but never actually looking at them.

You have to agree that that is not exactly efficient.

Part of the point of your calendar is to make sure you do what you need to do when you need to do it … not two days later when you look and say, “Crap, I forgot Mom’s birthday again!”

Let your brain focus on what it does best—thinking, not remembering!

Ultimately, the better you can discipline yourself to put these life details down on paper (or into the computer), the more your brain can relax and focus on how to get things done, instead of having to concentrate on remembering that it needs to do them in the first place.

So … let’s have a poll. Do you have a calendar system? What is it? Does it make your life more efficient?

I talked the other day about DIPs (Delusionally Important People). You know the ones, the ones who think they can get away with whatever they like because they’re so special. Well, I am not the only one to find these folks annoying. Check out this column from Ruben Navarrette Jr at CNN. He says, among other things,

There are many people out there, in all walks of life, who think they’re more significant than they really are. Plagued with an exaggerated sense of self-importance, they feel entitled to do whatever they want, whenever they want to do it no matter whom it hurts. The self-centered rarely think about the consequences because they’re too busy claiming what they see as their rightful place in the spotlight.

Ouch. That sounds just about spot-on to me. Just in the last week or so, we here in the U.S. of A. have had a tennis star, a musician, and a politician all speak out, in public situations, in the rudest possible manner. A member of Congress who vocally accuses the President of lying while he is in the middle of a speech is nothing if not rude. You can disagree all you like, but there is a time and place for this sort of thing. A tennis star who lambasts a referee in the worst language? Perhaps her fame is going to her head? And when a musician gets up on stage and takes the microphone away from a giddy young star who has just won an award, so he can say that a friend of his was robbed? That goes beyond rudeness.

Want another spot-on statement?

Americans have reared at least one generation of kids, or maybe two, to think of themselves as the last bottle of soda pop in the desert. We said we were building children’s self-esteem so they could be successful, but it never occurred to us that giving kids what psychologists call “cheap self-esteem” could do more harm than good by making our kids think they’re 10-feet tall and bulletproof when they’re neither. Besides, what many of these parents were really doing was feeding their own egos; by telling your kids they’re special, it confirms that you’re special for having such special kids. Isn’t that special?

I think of this as the “Gold Star Syndrome.” The minute you give everyone gold stars, is the minute that all of them become meaningless. What happened to having to earn them? What happened by showing the other people around you the kind of respect that you expect yourself? Sigh … sometimes I just cringe for the future of the human race.

It’s been a while since we talked about manners or civility around here—and considering the blog’s subtitle is as much about manners as writing, that just seems wrong.

Maybe the problem is that there seems to be so little civility in the world and I just don’t want the headache from beating my head against the wall. I see enough people trying to write well, so I believe that talking about writing is a discussion people want to have. But, manners?

I can’t be the only person who walks down the street shaking her head as the spoiled divas of the world pass by. Let’s call them DIPs (Delusionally Important People), because unlike rockstars, heads-of-state, and other assorted guests of honor, these people are only important in their own heads. (And, well, to their family members, I suppose.)

DIPs whizz through doors and not only don’t hold the door for people coming toward them, but they never glance back to see if there’s someone behind them. DIPs just let the door close.

DIPs stroll across roads and parking lots as if they have all the time in the world. They are not only full of the belief that you will stop your car (because, you know, it’s THEM), but they don’t even bother to look to make sure you see them. Of course you’ll stop!

But, also of course, when a DIP is driving the car, and reaching for their cellphone, their iPod, or their lunch, and somebody walks across the parking lot right in front of them? Well! They are immediately affronted that someone would dare. Doesn’t that hapless pedestrian know how busy/important/wonderful they are? They are just lucky the DIP is a (cough) truly good person who stopped out of the kindness of their heart … and incidentally to save their SUV from getting its paint scratched.

Actually, I think that’s the crux. DIPs think only of themselves in their day-to-day transactions. They cut in line because they (unlike the rest of the world) are too busy to wait. They expect special deals and bargains simply because they ask for it. They have no compunction about taking the last gallon of milk at the grocery store—even if a mother with three young children clinging to her skirt is reaching for it at the same time.

To be fair, however, not everyone is acting like a spoiled diva these days.

I find grace and kindness everywhere. Helpful bloggers who try to spread useful knowledge or words of encouragement. Tweeters who go out of their way to say nice things to other people. I’ve had people with full grocery carts let me and my two items go ahead of them. I’ve seen people hold doors not only for people in wheelchairs or with large packages, but even for able-bodied people.

It’s encouraging, really. Honestly, I think that those of us–and people like YOU–owe it to, well, the world to encourage polite behavior.

Because who wants to be a DIP?

Today, in the U.S., all televisions are officially switching from analog to digital transmission, forever turning the page on the tradition of television signals broadcast, for free, through the air.* In many ways, this is a seamless change–most people will never even notice–but the very IDEA is one that I find intriguing.

How many ways has the digital revolution touched and changed my life? Your life?

• Telephones: We went from party lines with a real, live operator connecting our calls, to rotary dials, to push button phones. Then we went cordless. Then there were car phones and really heavy, bulky briefcase phones, which were quickly supplanted by cell phones which have gotten smaller and sleeker.

• Answering Machines: I remember so clearly when I was the only kid I knew whose house had an answering machine, and that was solely because my father’s business was down in our The machine recorded on magnetic tape and it only recorded messages of a certain length. If you were too wordy, too bad; you got cut off. Then there were machines that recorded the messages digitally, so that you could call home and dial in a specific code to pick up your messages. Now, most people have call waiting and voicemail and don’t even need a separate machine anymore (though, we still have ours).

• Music: Golly, remember when transistor radios were cool? How about vinyl 45 singles? 8-track tape players? The ever-popular boombox? Sony Walkman? And, CDs, of course, which were going to revolutionize music forever. And, well, they did for a while, but then along came MP3s… People used to be limited to listening to (1) live musical performances, (2) personally-selected music on the stereo in the privacy of their own home, or (3) whatever the DJ chose to play over the radio (AM or FM). If you were lucky, on long family vacations, you’d be able to find a decent radio station so that everyone in the car was satisfied with the choices.

• Calculators: Once, there were piles of stones to use in aid of mathematical achievements, then there was the abacus. Slates with chalk. Pencils with erasers. Automatic pencils that never needed sharpening. And then calculators. I still remember when my father brought our first one home in the early 1970s with firm admonitions to my sister and me to not touch because it was so expensive. By the time I was in high school, they were being given away as freebies by every bank, car wash, or business-type-of-your-choice.

• Computers: Talk about BIG calculators. At the beginning, that was really all these machines did–massive, complicated mathematical calculations. Then they started doing other things. My father got into computers early, in the 1950s, and worked as a programmer at one of the first banks to use one and still tells those “walked barefoot in the snow to school” kinds of stories about the vast size of the computer he worked on compared to the (relatively) tiny amounts of data it recorded. My first computer didn’t have a hard drive or a color monitor, and it used those old 5.25″ floppy disks, but I was still the first of my friends to have my own computer. Next came hard drives, and color, and laser printing, and smaller, faster machines with computing power that still makes my Dad giddy from time to time.

• The Internet: While having your very own computer for word processing and video games was cool, computers really got fascinating when the internet came along. Email. Chat rooms. Message boards. Wikipedia. Websites on every topic under the sun. Blogs by the thousands. Talk about an amazing resource–you can research, ask questions, confer with friends, make travel plans to meet them, and do just about anything all at the touch of a keyboard.

• Television: When my parents were children, houses had radios for entertainment. Then, there was one television–big as a piece of furniture, but with a tiny screen (possibly round). With, let’s not forget, rabbit ear antennas on the top, and a dial to turn for channel selection, plus a knob for volume. Then along came color. Next, it was cable television so you didn’t need the antennas anymore, then satellite. Now, we not only have cable and satellite for clear, sharp pictures, but we also have high-definition signals for even clearer, sharper pictures. Not to mention the internet, where we can watch shows at our convenience, rather than according to when the networks want us to watch.

• Television Recording: Do you remember the VCR revolution? Not only did you suddenly have a movie theater in your living room, but you could record a television program so that you wouldn’t miss it if you were out, or watching something else? Sure, philistines complained that the point of being away from the television was to miss watching things, but I remember this as being akin to magic. We could watch one thing and record something else. We could go on vacation and still not miss the season finales of our favorite shows. (Well, six of them, since the video tapes could only hold up to 6 hours of recording … and at $20 each, you didn’t have too many of them.) This lasted for years, and then there were cable boxes which limited the channel you could record to the one you were watching (bummer). Then there was Tivo and the other digital recording devices so that you could record and save shows without needing the tapes, and … with a DVD-recorder, you could burn them to DVD, too.

And now?

What’s the point of this trip down memory lane?

The absolutely amazing thing is that you can pretty much do all of these things at the same time, on the same piece of equipment.

You can watch television on your computer. You can check your email from your telephone. You can make video calls over your computer. You can calculate your tip at a restaurant on your watch. If you even wear a watch, because many people don’t because they can check the time an assortment of electronic devices within finger’s reach. All of these electronic gadgets are one bare step away from being interchangeable, allowing for a certain level of portability–and weight.

Just in my lifetime, I am astounded at how much has changed–and the digital electronics revolution has been a huge part of that. There was no such thing as cable television, personal computers, answering machines, calculators, or VCRs when I was born. So MANY things that I can’t imagine my life without simply didn’t exist. And the fact that they are all (except, apparently, electronic book readers) working together, blurring the boundaries just makes me feel excited to live in such a wonderful time.

But don’t forget–People Are Not Digital

With all this cool, new-technology hoopla, it’s sometimes easy to forget how far we’ve come, so quickly. Or to get so wound up with the freedom to be able to listen to whatever we want, whenever we want; to watch whatever we want; to call anyone from anywhere that we forget that the sense of freedom.

It’s easy to forget that it didn’t always work this way.

It’s easy to forget that we didn’t use to have so many choices.

It’s easy to forget that, while we arrange our digital lives to fit our personal needs, our NON-digital lives are still intertwined.

We need to remember that, while so many things transition to cool, fast, customizable digital technology, that we as people are, in fact, analog, and we need to work together, like the old vacuum tubes in the first computers–where, if they didn’t work together, they didn’t work at all.

So, remember this as you walk around your day, listening to music of your choice, talking to friends and business associates from the grocery store via the gadget in your pocket, checking your email while you wait on line, watching last night’s episode of Burn Notice while you ride the train.

All these choices and options at your fingertips–wondrous and convenient as they are–doesn’t make you the center of the universe, just the center of your own.

*Yes, I know that some stations are now broadcasting digital HDTV signals that you can capture with an antenna, but it’s still digital, and the people watching that way are very much in the minority, so … ignore that.

Joanna’s theme this month is breathing space, and in this crazy world, what could be more important?

I’m sure I’m not the only one who is glued to her computer screen for hours (and hours) every day. Nor am I complaining about that. If I didn’t love writing, twittering, blogging, socializing, and emailing, you can be sure that I would find a way NOT to spend so many of my leisure hours with my laptop. Since my first introduction to the internet back in college (circa 1988), I’ve been a big fan. I’ve made a huge number of real-life friends thanks to my blogs, and even with my real-world friends, much of our interaction these days is done electronically. I love my computer, and absolutely cannot understand how some of my friends and acquaintences don’t even own computers, much less use them.

But. Still.

There are times you need to step away from the computer screen.

No, really!

Fresh Air

Did you know, for example, that there’s this thing called the sun? And fresh air? You’d be surprised how refreshing it can be to spend time outdoors. Taking the dog for a walk and watching him check his “pee-mail” messages at the corner never fails to put a smile on my face. There are all sorts of things you can do outside–sports, for example, if you’re into that kind of thing–that get your body moving and stretching in ways that don’t involve a keyboard. Get the blood pumping, feel the sun on your face, and generate some Vitamin D. (Be warned, though. In my experience, fresh, outdoor air is always more tiring than indoor air, even if I’m just sitting quietly in a chair.)

Socializing

As wonderful, fantastic, satisfying, and cutting edge as social media is … and believe me when I tell you that I would be lost without email, twitter, blog comments, and Ravelry (a knitter’s site) … it can be just as much fun to see friends in person. No, really! It’s true! I spent all of Saturday afternoon at a friend’s house with a group of eight friends, sitting outside on a beautiful Spring day with our knitting and our spinning wheels, and it was delightful. (And, yes, that really is my idea of a good a time.) Five hours without email, without looking at a single pixel or electronic anything, but instead, laughing and chatting, eating good food, and making beautiful things with wool.

Things You Just Can’t Do on a Computer

There are, of course, things that you can’t do on a computer. Household chores like dusting or laundry. Running to the grocery store for a gallon of milk. Baking a cake. Changing the oil in your car. Going to a ball game. Some of these are more fun than others. Some can be combined with small amounts of internet use (thanks to Blackberries and iPhones). But they are best experienced when you are focused on them, instead of trying to type a tweet or compose a blog post at the same time. (Although, of course, letting your mind wander free while doing otherwise brainless things is actually one of the benefits.)

Clear Your Head

Maybe you think that you can only be productive when you’re tapping away at the computer keys, but that’s not necessarily true. Are you one of the millions of people who’s ever had a great idea in the shower? Or waken up in the middle of the night by a stroke of genius so brilliant it couldn’t wait until morning? Or had a brain-wave while driving the car, tapping your fingers in time to your favorite tune on the stereo?

Yeah. I thought so. Sometimes, the best way to be brilliant is to walk away from trying to be brilliant.

So, what are you doing, still sitting there?

Sometimes you just have to walk away, so that you’ll be ready to come back.

How do you define an ebook?

I’ve been reading a lot about ebooks lately, and it’s made me realize that there are really two, entirely separate meanings to the word.

Well, yes, either way, the “e” stands for electronic, as opposed to the “dead tree” edition of books that all of us grew up with.

But as regular usage goes, I’m noticing variations.

Self-Produced eBooks

First, there are PDF, usually self-published texts that people sell on websites and blogs. “How to Make a Million Dollars in 30 Seconds,” “A Mother’s Guide to Crayons,” “101 Steps to Perfect Fingernails.”

These ebooks are usually written and “produced” by the author. That is, the author creates the PDF on her own. (For some ebooks, the word “author” is a word lightly used, too, since some people create theirs from PLR text that they’ve bought and simply reformatted on their own. Though, that’s fine, if you’re into that kind of thing. I’m not here to judge.)

Obviously, the quality varies greatly from book to book. I’ve read some eBooks that were practically works of art in terms of production value, quality of writing, and outright substance of the content. These are usually from “reputable” writers who make a point of giving lots of value for your money. I have a nice collection of them on my harddrive.

I’ve also read truly crappy ebooks. The kind that are written in a 20-point font and have 4″ margins so that they can eke out a few thousand words of text into a “100 pages of vital information!”

These self-produced ebooks–the bad and the sublime–may be available in a variety of ways. Free. Free with purchase. For $5, $220, $50, or even $100. They may promise riches beyond your wildest dreams, or just a few (hundred) great recipes for chicken.

“Published” eBooks

Second, there are the ebooks that you buy to read on your portable electronic devices. (Kindle, anyone?) These are usually electronic versions of published books. John Grisham’s latest novel. Seth Godin’s most recent brainstorm of inspiration. A romance novel to read on your commute to work.

These are (cough) “real” books, and come primarily as text files that you can download and read. Have you heard of Project Gutenberg?

A Little Confusing, no?

Am I the only one who finds the juxtaposition of the same word for two radically different formats/structures confusing?

The most confusing part is that you can’t discuss one type with the people involved with the other. If you start discussing the “future of paper books” with someone who’s just discovered how to upload text of the latest bestseller on their Blackberry, they’re probably not aware of those ebooks people are hawking on their websites. If you write and produce your own (high-quality, content-rich) ebooks, getting your text onto somebody’s Sony Reader is probably the last thing you’re thinking about … assuming it can even handle PDFs.

How fascinating that–for now at least–we can talk about Electronic Books and have two completely different things in mind. Sure, there’s some overlap, but not enough …

Yet.

How long before self-publishing and “professional” publishing are interchangeable, thanks to the electronic age?

Hmmm…

Last time, we explored words connected with the equipment used for spinning yarn. Today we’re going to look at some of the words involved with the fiber. And, trust me, they’re unique!

The Plant Fibers

The plant fibers like linen have a long, convoluted process just to get the fiber ready to spin … A ton of work, but it yields such a great list of obscure vocabulary:

• Bast: Fiber from grass-like plants, such as flax, hemp, and bamboo.
• Beet: A bundle of harvested flax, waiting to be turned into linen
• Ripple: Strong, coarse combs used to remove the outer shaft of the flax plant and all the seeds
• Retting: The process of essentially rotting the plant to get to the bast
• Breaking: Crushing the retted stalks to separate the bast (spinnable) fibers from the non-spinnable core.
• Shive: The small pieces of bark left after breaking
• Scutching: The act of removing the shives from the bast.
• Hackling: A combing process to get the bast ready to spin and to separate the longer fibers from the shorter ones.
• Stricks and Tow: The long and short fibers you get after this whole process. (Anyone know the expression “tow-headed” to describe a person with blond hair? This is where THAT word comes from.)

Phew! And then you wonder why good linen can be so expensive. All this makes removing all those tiny seeds from a cotton boll seem easy, huh? (Almost!) (And, did you know that cotton actually comes in natural colors, not just in white? But that we’ve selectively bred for white fibers to make dyeing easier and more consistent?)

Silk

• Bombyx: Cultivated silk from silkworms in the far East
• Tussah: Wild silk from Asia. (I bet you didn’t know there were different kinds of silk, did you?)
• Cocoon: The chrsylis made by the silk worm in preparation of turning into a moth.
• Reeling: The act of peeling off the spun thread off the cocoon into one, long, long piece.
• Silk Hankie or Silk Cap: A cocoon of silk that’s been teased out of its round shape into something (mostly) flat and layered and ready to spin.

Wool and other Animal Fibers

I’m not going into detail about all the animals that provide fiber; the list is too long! (Sheep, goat, llama, alpaca, camel, vicuna, bison, rabbits, musk ox, dogs … and it goes on.)

• Wool: This can be used very loosely to refer to a class of animal fiber, but mostly, it just means the hair that comes off a sheep. (Note: In England, knitting yarn is usually referred to as “wool,” regardless of the fiber content, but I think they’re just trying to make things complicated.) (Yes, that last statement was a joke, but they really do use the word “wool” for “yarn.”)
• Angora: The fur from an Angora Bunny
• Mohair: The fur that comes off an Angora Goat (Although, I hear that the Angora Goat has recently been renamed to avoid confusion, but the idea that we use the word Angora to describe two different species but only one of their fibers just strikes me as deliciously complicated.)
• Fleece: The coat cut off a sheep–imagine getting a haircut that not only shaves your head, but does it in such a way that all your hair comes off in one piece, like peeling an apple in one, long strip. Because, yes, an experiences shearer can remove a sheep’s entire coat in one, big piece, and this is usually done twice a year, in the Spring and the Fall. No, it doesn’t hurt the sheep (barring the occasional small nick from the clippers), and more importantly, the sheep doesn’t have to be killed, making wool a renewable, animal-friendly resource. (Well, with reputable farmers, anyway! Some farms are more “commercial” than others but the fact remains that you do NOT kill the animals to get their fleece, so wearing wool is a GOOD thing for the animals–it’s more economical to keep them alive to shear twice a year than to kill them for meat.)
• Raw: Description of the fleece right after it comes off the sheep–dirty, full of lanolin, bits of straw, grass, and, er, other things.
• In the Grease Some people will spin directly from a raw fleece, so as to keep as much lanolin in the wool as possible for its water-proofing abilities but, um, I can’t say that’s ever appealed to me. Although, you can soak a fleece in plain water, no soap, to remove most of the dirt while leaving the lanolin and at least still end up with cleaner fleece.
• Scour: The act of cleaning a raw fleece. I find this word ironic because, unlike say, scouring a dirty pot, this is must be a gentle process … it just uses really, hot water.
• Felt: The condensed fabric formed when wool fibers are bonded together, usually with hot water and friction … whether done on purpose, or not. (Have you ever accidentally tossed a sweater into the dryer and ended up with something that would fit a 5 year old? Congratulations. You made felt.)
• Full: Some people say that the process I just described as felting is really fulling. I’ll be honest and tell you I’m not entirely clear on the difference, and with most knitters and spinners, the two terms are more or less interchangeable.
• Staple: The length of each individual fiber
• Micron: A unit of size that determines how fine or coarse a given fiber is. The higher the micron count, the softer and finer the fiber.
• Crimp: The number of bends in the wool, like curly hair. The more crimp, the more elastic the fiber. Less crimp means stronger fiber.

Incidentally, did you know that there are vast numbers of sheep breeds? All of which provide completely different kinds of wool in terms of softness, strength, color, luster, and so on? Most sweaters you buy might say “100% Wool” or, if you’re lucky, more specific and say Lambswool, or Merino, or Cashmere (though that’s from goats, not sheep).

But to a spinner, you want to know the KIND of sheep. Cormo? Corriedale? Blue Faced Leicester? Targhee? Merino? Jacob? Ramboulliet? Romney? That list alone could go on for ages and it all matters. Trust me!

Links to the pictures, if you’re interested:
1. here, 2. here, 3. here, 4. here, 5. here, 6. here, 7. here, 8. here, 9. here, 10. here, 11. here, 12. here, 13. here, 14. here, 15. here

Phew! That’s enough vocabulary for one day!

Remember a couple weeks ago, when I told you about a duplicate order I had received in the mail? And used it as a springboard to discuss manners and the benefits of doing the Right Thing?

Remember how I emailed them to let them know, and was irritated that they wanted me to call them instead of dealing with it via email? And that they sent me a UPS label so I could return the duplicate items? And never said thank you for being honest enough to point out the problem?

Well, you’ve got to admit I tried.

But, guess what … I got my Visa bill today. Guess who got a CREDIT for her return from B&BW?

Yep. They refunded me for returning items I hadn’t actually bought in the first place.

Corporate America at its best, folks.

The next question–would you think less of me if I just let this go at this point, instead of butting my head up against the B&BW brick wall again? Have I met my moral obligations by trying to fix this once already? Or should I contact them and try to explain?

Discuss!

So … do you have a library? I mean, shelves in your own home, filled with books?

I was just reading this essay from the NY Times about weeding out books from a personal library, and it got me thinking.

Where books are concerned, there’s no question. I am a hoarder.

Almost every book that has come into my hands since high school is still here, in my collection. Three thousand, thirty-three books, in all. (Of which, for the record, I’ve read all but 31. Because yes, I keep all my books organized in an Excel database … doesn’t everyone?)

I can also tell you exactly how many I’ve gotten rid of over the years. 134. Because, yes, I track that, too.

Laura Miller says, in her article,

When you’re young and still constructing an identity, the physical emblems of your inner life appear more essential, and if you’re single, your bookshelves provide a way of advertising your discernment to potential mates.

I found that interesting–I don’t think of my library as a way of “advertising” myself, but it is very much a reflection of who I am. When I’m interested in something, I buy books. And even when I’ve moved on to other things … the books remain, both as reference and road signs, a flag marking that I Was Here.

Which also means that getting rid of books is like getting rid of part of my history … and who wants to do that? I sometimes wonder if, somehow, cleaning out my library would be a way of starting fresh? Like moving to a new town, or getting rid of all the old momentos from an ex … But what happens when you decide later that you wish you had kept them?

Of course, it’s true–space can be an issue. Little by little, I’ve taken over three closets in our house, as well as several walls, with bookcases. There is obviously a certain point where there simply is no more space. Or you suddenly ARE moving to a new town and you’ve got to cut down on weight. (Because, never forget, several thousand books are heavy.)

My philosophy is that you can’t have too many books, just too little space.

The other quote I really liked in this article?

I have turned out to be less rational about this than I thought, and have made my library into a charm against mortality. As long as I have a few unread books beckoning to me from across the room, I tell myself I can always find a little more time.

So true, so true… Or am I the only one who worries that, when she dies, she’s never going to know how the books she’s currently reading will end? I’m not a defeatist, dark kind of person, but sometimes I rush breathlessly to the end of a story just so that I can know what happens. (And I drove extra, extra carefully to the bookstore the morning the seventh Harry Potter book came out. I would have been tormented forever if I hadn’t had a chance to find out how that series ended.)

What about you? Do you hoard your books? Or do you just keep the jewels and easily, happily, pass on the dross so that your collection is as clean, pure, and magnificent as is possible? Which books would you absolutely NOT give up?

Simple question today:

When somebody does something nice for you, do you say, “Thank you?”

It seems such a simple thing, but it is so often forgotten or ignored by those people who feel entitled to anything their little hearts desire, and therefore see no need to thank anyone else for going out of their way to help. Because, of course, they deserved the help in the first place.

If your mother didn’t teach you this simple rule, please allow me. Be gracious. Be appreciative. Be responsive. The world is not here to do you favors, and you make your own luck. And, by all means, when a fellow human does something for you, acknowledge it. It might just be a waiter at a restaurant putting down a glass of water on a hot day. It might be someone driving 50 miles just to deliver something you bought on Craigslist. It could be the person on the other side of the cash register. (That one works both ways.)

It could also be a bunch of people who pitch in with good advice, just because you asked and they want to be helpful.

It’s one of the basic tenets of good manners, this saying “thank you” thing. Right up there with saying “please.” If nothing else, think of it as a good karma–what goes around comes around, and you’ve got to give to receive, and if you receive, you’ve got to give thanks.

So, thanks to all of you, and may you pay it forward!

Did anybody else read Copyblogger today? Brian Clark collected a fantastic group of quotes demonstrating how even the brightest people can lack foresight in matters of creativity, and reject things that would have made them (more?) famous, rich, or renowned. His point is that you shouldn’t make assumptions, but my take?

Rejection happens to the best of us. Everybody gets rejected sometimes. Your book manuscript comes back with “No, thanks” scrawled across it. Your dream date sneers at you when you work up the courage to offer dinner and a movie. Your child shouts “No!” when you ask for a hug. No life, no matter how golden and blessed, comes without someone saying no at some point or another.

Those quotes that Brian pulled together are fabulous because they have inspiration and hope built right in. If people could say no to the Beatles and give the idea that started Fedex a grade of a C, well, we’re in good company. Apple computer did turn out to be a success, and I think we’ve all managed to come up with a few things to invent since 1899.

The trick to success is to not listen when people tell you something won’t work. Especially when it’s something you believe in.

“It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.”

President Theodore Roosevelt
“Citizenship in a Republic,”
Speech at the Sorbonne, Paris, April 23, 1910

Since I’m travelling today, I thought I’d address some of those travel-related words that can get confusing. So please, make sure your safety belts are securely fastened and that your hands are safely on your keyboards, and let’s begin!

• Plane vs Plain:
  • Plane, of course, is short for “Airplane” and describes those nifty machines that fly through the air (when the airlines let them).
  • Plain describes a flat geographic area, often monotonous, like most of the center of the United States.
• Train:
  • One word with two meanings.
  • (1) Train (n): The first describes that locomotive that travels on prelaid tracks and used to go choo-choo in the old days when it ran on steam.
  • (2)Train (v): The second meaning describes what you need to do to get the tallest, strongest person of your travelling party to automatically pick up the heaviest pieces of luggage without your needing to nag.
• Board vs Bored:
  • Board is what you do when you’re finally allowed onto a plane, train, or bus after hours in the terminal.
  • Bored is the emotion you feel while waiting to do so.

• Sail vs Sale:
  • Sail is what you do on one of those pretty boats with the pieces of cloth filling with wind. (I’m told by people who know more about the water than I that a motor-powered boat such as a ferry or a cruise ship does not officially count as “sailing.”)
  • Sale is what you look for while on vacation so that you don’t spend too much of your hard-earned money on cheesy knick-knacks and t-shirts. (Buying them is one thing, but spending full-price? Tsk.)
• Inn vs In:
  • Inn is a quaint name for a hotel, or bed-and-breakfast, or whatever type of lodging you prefer. They can be large, modern hotels (like Hampton Inn), or they can be charming little Victorian houses that have been converted to money-making opportunities by idealists with a flair for doilies. Or, really, anything in between–if they take money and let you sleep there, they can basically call themselves an inn.
  • In is what you need to be to get a reservation at the trendiest restaurants, get into the coolest clubs, or just INto the swimming pool at your inn.
• Wine vs Whine:
  • Wine: Visiting wineries while you travel can be a pleasant way to spend a few hours (and even more money), because once you’ve tried the wine-tasting at the end, your resistance to the sales pitch will be low. And, really, what could be a better travel souvenir than a delicate bottle filled with a liquid that does not travel well?
  • Whine: The high-pitched, annoying sound often eminating from the back seat of the family car on long drives. “Are we there yet?” “He’s touching me!” “She’s on my side!” “I have to go to the bathroom!” Whines may also be heard from adults by the end of a long day of shouting, “Don’t make me turn this car around!”
• Tour vs Tourist:
  • Tour is what you do when you visit a new place or a museum. Usually headed up by a tour-guide to point out interesting features and to warn you about keeping your hands and feet inside the vehicle. Depending on the location, the guide, the scenery, the weather, and the script, these can be either a fabulous and informative use of a few hours or one of the deadliest, most boring places to be trapped on your precious vacation.
  • Tourists, on the other hand, used to be just people who were on tours, but have since transformed into obnoxious strangers, often with funny accents, who carry cameras everywhere (even though they don’t have blogs), and block traffic while standing in the middle of the street with a map trying to figure out where they are.
  • In other words, going on tours is okay, but being a tourist is dreadful.
• Holiday:
  • Another one of those confusing words with more than one meaning.
  • (1) To a British person, “Holiday” means the actual trip–getting on that plane, lying on that beach, touring that museum. Holidays are something they “go on.”
  • (2) To Americans, “Holiday” is the word for time off from work. Fourth of July (sorry, Brits) is a holiday. Christmas is a holiday. A long weekend can be a holiday. But the trip you stood for four hours in the airport to take? That’s a “Vacation.”

I hope you’ve enjoyed this little tour of some of the more confusing, travel-related words in the English language. All gratuities can be left in the tip-jar. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go load the car with luggage, catch a ferry, and spend the next 6 hours or so after that driving home along I-95 with my Mom and my tends-to-get-carsick dog. That rush-hour and Tappan Zee Bridge part is going to be FUN.

Can you think of anything I missed? Come on, chime in, folks!

Did you know that Monday is Blogger Appreciation Day?

Well, it’s kind of unofficial, but here’s the idea:

We’re in it together, blogging is about collaboration and together going further than we can by ourselves – so why not help another blogger today by shooting them a word of encouragement, a pep talk, a congratulations, an idea to help them improve or some other positive constructive message. Better still, do it publicly on your blog and tell the world about another blogger who you appreciate.

So, for the record–I appreciate all of you!

We have talked about the epidemic of bad handwriting. So now that you know that you’re not alone (if you’re one of the many people suffering from poor penmanship), what can you do if you want to improve yours?

• Number one answer? Practice. Good penmanship is based on muscle memory, so the more you practice the basic shapes and angles, the better your writing will be.
• Of course, you’re going to want to be sure to use the right Muscles. Ideally, when you write, your fingers should barely move at all–it should be your shoulder muscles that do all the work (as discussed here). This is one of my personal handwriting faults–I tend to rest my hand on the paper and use my fingers to move the pen, which effectively means that I can’t write on a pad when I get to the end of the page–nowhere for my hand.
• Discipline is important, too. All of us are used to writing in specific patterns, and it’s easy to just let those patterns continue. If you want to change, however, it’s time to break new writing paths–and that requires work. You have to resist the temptation to “just this once” scrawl a quick note in your usual, messy fashion just to save time. You have to exert the strength of mind to make your hand do what you want it to do, just as if you were learning to write all over again.
• This, of course, also demands Patience. Re-structuring your handwriting is not going to happen overnight. If you expect improvement after only a few days, you’re going to be discouraged–so, don’t!
• Then there’s the Grip. Hold your pen or pencil lightly–if you hold it too tightly, you’re just going to be adding stress which is going to make your hand tire quickly. You’ll want to hold it at a 45-degree angle to the paper, too (especially important with a fountain pen).
• Slow Down. Even my own less-than-stellar handwriting improves when I take the time to slow it down from its usual break-neck speed and focus on shaping each letter.
• Pay Attention. Part of what makes good penmanship good is its consistency. So focus on making the angles of your letters consistent (90 degrees, more or less, in the U.S.), the curves the same shape. Make the space between each letter the same. Keep all the extenders and descenders the same height. (Those are the parts that rise above and below the basic letter–like the top of a “d” or the bottom of a “y”.) 
• One handy tip I saw here was to have a “test sentence” that you write once a week, which will show how much your writing has improved. Sometimes the changes are infinitestimal and you won’t see them … until you look back to where you started from and say, “Wow. My writing was really that bad?” This is the penmanship equivalent to yearly school pictures for your kids.

Now, if you’re anything like me, you’ll want a book on the subject. (Any time I’m interested in a new subject, I immediately go two places–the internet and a bookstore. The internet is great for instant gratification, but there’s still nothing quite like a book for studying.) Write Now is a good one. So is Teach Yourself Better Handwriting.

This is the fourth post in my series on Handwriting. The first post, on the act of writing is here, and the second, on the personal touch, is here. The third, on bad handwriting, is here.

When is the last time you got a hand-written letter in the mail? A personal note? A greeting card?

Exactly. It’s a dying art. I have a drawer full of letters I’ve received from friends over the years, but I cannot remember the last time I actually had a letter to add. Maybe something that came with a Christmas card, but a real letter, just because a friend felt like writing? It simply doesn’t happen any more.

Don’t get me wrong–I love the electronic age we live in. I love the ease of communication. I love the fact that I’ve got e-friends all over the world. I love that I can ask a question and get answers almost instantaneously. The world has never been so connected. But, it lacks the personal touch.

There is nothing like getting a handwritten letter. The look of the ink–maybe from a fountain pen. The feel of the paper in your hand. The knowledge that the writer put forth a real effort to communicate, instead of clicking a few keys between tasks at the computer to send you a quick note. Even the look of the handwriting is special, as distinctive as fingerprints. Handwriting might flow fluidly across the page, might be made up of short, quick lines engraved into the paper, or might be scrawled to the point of illegibility, but, no matter what, it makes a nice change from Times New Roman. 

And then, there’s the content. Tell the truth: do you write long, chatty e-mails to your distant friends? I’d wager you probably don’t. One of the oddities about electronic communication is that its instantaneous nature inspires “quick” notes. Rather like telegrams fostered short, cryptic messages, the convenience of e-mail spawns correspondence something akin to the, “Honey, could you pick up some milk” phone calls. Short and to the point, passing on bare facts or information, but not inspiring anyone to the literary heights. I’m not saying it never happens–and I have had some thoughtful, insightful e-mail exchanges with all sorts of people–but most of them? The quickie variety.

Which is a shame. E-mails don’t lend themselves to being saved for posterity–nor are they (necessarily) worth it. We can read the legendary correspondence between John and Abigail Adams and Thomas Jefferson. We can read copies of letters sent to Eleanor Roosevelt. Heartfelt letters sent home from soldiers throughout the ages. A quick look on Amazon.com for books about letters yields 603,310 results–some of which are fiction or how-to books, but many are collections of letters between famous people, world leaders, great writers.

But, think about it. Even if you and I both become world-famous overnight so that future generations are panting to know everything about us, somehow, I don’t think that, 50 years from now, we’re going to be seeing collections of “Greatest E-Mails,” filled with quotes like, “See you at the movies at 7:15,” or “Great post, Deb!” Just like you don’t see many collections of “Telegram Messages of the Ages.” Because, well, they’d be kind of boring, don’t you think?

I found a great editorial by Andrew Lam from 2000 about this subject which says,

These days I find the only people who write good letters are the old or those living in refugee camps or in countries not yet “wired.” The dispossessed refugee, especially, robbed of his home, his future uncertain, becomes the consummate writer. She picks up her pen and begins to bleed herself into words. For the rest of us in this age of mobility and information, there simply isn’t any time for such a thing as a long flowing, hand written letter. Odd, isn’t it, in a world where one does not need fire to boil water or a teller to withdraw cash, there isn’t any time left to complete a whole paragraph?

So, let me ask you–When is the last time you wrote a hand-written letter?

This is the second post in this series about handwriting. The first post, about the writing process, can be seen here.

Jan left a comment on my post about getting started writing where she said, “I find that I am much more productive if I have projects and things ready to go (that includes a clean desk, nothing scatters my thinking more than a cluttered desk).”

I agreed whole-heartedly and replied, “It’s so nice to hear that somebody else has the same issue with clutter that I do. I HATE working with clutter. I find that it’s like my brain is keeping mental tabs of everything on the desk. ‘I’ll do this first, then that, but that pile over there can wait…’ The more that’s on my desk, the busier my mind is trying to keep track of everything. If the desk is clear, then I can focus.”

Which made me think. I do an excellent job of keeping my physical desk clean, both at home and at work. Years ago, when I worked with my father, he used to say that, if I wasn’t actually at my desk, he could never tell if was gone for the day or not. I would tell him the answer was simple–if my purse was there, so was I. Of course, my father’s desk always looked–still does–like the file drawers had exploded, so to him, a desk with almost no paper was clearly not a functioning desk.

And yet, still, all too often I have trouble focusing on what I need to do, and I realized … my DESK may be clutter-free, but my COMPUTER is not. Right this moment, I’ve got three windows of Firefox open, along with the Explorer file folder, Flickr uploader, and Adobe InDesign. And inside those Firefox windows? Thirteen open tabs.

No wonder I keep getting distracted from what I should be doing. No wonder I’m having trouble sticking to one thing, any thing. I’ve eliminated the surface clutter in my workspace, but not the space on my computer.

This is so obvious, I’m sitting here wondering how on earth I missed it. It doesn’t matter if the clutter is “virtual,” or “real.” If it’s taking up mental space, if it’s a distraction … get rid of it.

Which isn’t to say that you shouldn’t have the programs you regularly use open and ready–that’s what efficiency is about–but how many programs or browser windows do you have open that don’t need to be open? 

Now, you’ll have to excuse me. I’ve got some windows and browser tabs to close …

What does your computer screen look like?

I know. The tone here at Punctuality Rules! is so calm and gracious, it’s hard to believe that I basically started the blog as a place to air a whole series of pet peeves. People who can’t keep its/it’s, your/you’re or they’re/there/their straight. People who can’t be bothered to say thank you. People who are selfishly enwrapped in their own worlds. People who don’t use turn-signals when they drive . . . okay, I haven’t gotten to that one, yet, but you get the idea.

Personally, I feel that it’s reasonable to expect a certain amount of civility in my fellow humans, a certain respect for the rules (grammatical and otherwise). One of the interesting things about rule-systems is that they tend to develop as civilizations get larger and more complex. A group of 10 people can get along fairly simply with just a few, basic rules. (Don’t kill anyone, watch out for the community’s children, and share the food.) As you start adding people, though, the rules exponentially expand. And, why? Because it helps keep us all from killing each other.

“Good Manners” may have that namby-pamby, weak-wrist kind of feel–something ladies do over their teacups–but in fact, it’s a societal imperative that gives us formal means of not aggravating each other to the point of homicide. An 18th-century gentleman challenging another to a duel, demanding, “I must have satisfaction, sir!” is literally a step away from killing the poor fop who just insulted him by declaring blue neck-cloths to be in bad taste. Any number of duels have been fought over ridiculous reasons, and any number of them ended in the death of one of the participating parties. But … and this is important … they were civilized deaths. Anyone angry enough to challenge someone to a duel is angry enough to draw his sword right there and run the other through … which would probably lead to the victim’s best friend running the swordsman through, and next thing you know, you’ve got a free-for-all and a pile of corpses in the drawing room. The formality of the duel gave cooler heads time to prevail.

If you try to retain basic manners, you are going to be less likely to beat another car (or driver) with a baseball bat for cutting you off on the drive to work. A small sense of decency will keep you from smacking the pesky toddler to the ground when he breaks your priceless Ming vase … you might take the toddler’s mother to court and wring every penny out of her 401(k), but at least there won’t be any blood shed. That’s what manners and rules are for.

So, really, you see, Punctuality Rules! is just helping me keep my grammar-rage under control. Instead of lunging through the computer screen every time I see yet another person put an apostrophe in a plural, I control myself and get my satisfaction here.

My own little, personal dueling ground. How very civilized.

So … two questions for you:

• But, tell me, what are the pet peeves that would drive you to violence? (If, you know, you were less civilized yourself.)

• And, do you think that the distance of avenging wrongs through the internet is an improvement over a slap in the face by a glove? Or are we allowing ourselves to be too distanced from misbehaviors witnessed on a daily basis?

Let me ask you two simple questions:

1. When somebody pays you a compliment, do you thank them?
2. If somebody sends you a gift, do you send a thank-you note? Thank-you phone call? Thank-you e-mail?

Chances are, if your mother raised you well, your answer to these two questions was, “Yes.” Because the whole point is that when somebody does or says something nice, you acknowledge your appreciation, even if it’s simply with a gracious smile.

But, what about when you get an unsolicited e-mail? Do you answer it? Do you acknowledge it? I don’t so much mean the spam, or the “I can make you a million dollars” business offers. Junk mail is a whole, separate animal. But what about a friendly e-mail from a stranger? Or an e-mail from a friend? A letter in the mail? (Remember those?) Do you reply?

By rights, the answer should again be, “Yes.” It’s a courteous gesture, an acknowledgement that another human made an effort to make contact. It’s true, it’s a busy, hectic world and it’s not necessarily possible (or desirable) to respond to every e-mail that shows up in your inbox. If I were to send an e-mail out of the blue to an A-list blogger who doesn’t know me from Eve, I wouldn’t really expect a personal answer (though I’d be thrilled to get one), any more than I’d expect to get a phone call from Julia Roberts if I sent her a friendly fan letter. (I’m sure that her mother taught her to be polite, too, but she only has so much time. To elicit an actual phone call, that would have to be some letter!)

Among family, friends, and acquaintances, though, it seems to me that the “Say Thank You” rule is as important as ever. If not more. We ARE all busy, crazed maniacs trying to keep all our balls in the air, and while it’s not possible to respond to everything, the polite, human-interaction thing is more important than ever. If you spend most of your time sitting on the far side of a computer monitor and keyboard from most of the people you interact with, your personal interactions become more important. Because they are exactly that–personal.

Human-to-human, even with a computer filter, is priceless interaction to a social species such as ourselves. I mean, sure, some people are annoying, but a lot of them are darn nice to be around. And, really, doesn’t it behoove us all to encourage as many of the nice ones as possible?

There’s a line in “You’ve Got Mail,” where Meg Ryan’s character protests,

“Joe? Just call me Joe? As though you were one of those stupid 22 year old girls with no last name? Hi, I’m Kimberly. Hi, I’m Janice. Don’t they know you’re supposed to have a last name? It’s like they’re an entire generation of cocktail waitresses.”

Once you get past the mental image of all those cocktail waitresses (and waiters, let’s not forget the boys), it becomes an interesting point. In this ever-increasingly casual world of ours, how do you address people?

For people in positions of high authority–statesmen, kings, queens, religious leaders–it’s simple. You address them as formally as possible. Your Majesty. Sir. Mr. President. For most of us, though, the nitty-gritty of these titles is unlikely to come up. The President of the United States is unlikely to drop by my house for a beer, and I’m not really expecting him to invite me up to the White House any time soon. (And, really, I’d have more to talk about with the First Lady, anyway. She’s a book-lover, you know.)

For people in more accessible positions of eminence–your boss, friends of your grandfather, the the local selectman–chances are you’re going to call them by name. As in, Mr. or Mrs. so-and-so, not “John” or “Sally.” This is reasonably formal and respectful, without being too kow-towing. Formal address is not the same as brown-nosing, after all. It’s meant to be a way to show respect for a person’s age or position. Being called “Mr. Smith” instead of “Bobby” is–or used to be–a sign that little Bobby was growing up. Once he was out in the world and had a job, it was an acknowledgment that he was a contributing member of society.

It’s trickier for women, of course. The available titles differentiate between singled and married, Miss. or Mrs., which immediately makes everyone you meet take a desperate gamble at the correct terminology. Is she wearing a wedding ring? Try Mrs. Is she somewhere around 18? Miss. is probably safe. Elderly? Again, Mrs. is probably a good guess. But anywhere in between? An adult woman with no jewelry … um … Ms? That doesn’t really work, either. I appreciate what my feminist foremothers intended by it–a strong, neutral title for an adult woman, regardless of her marital status. Except … that’s exactly the problem. It was created by and for feminists, and so is colored by people’s perceptions of those man-eating, independent women. And, anyway, it never caught on the way they’d hoped–which just makes it messier. You might try Ms. as a “safe” option, only to be told indignantly that, “I’m proud to be the married mother of seven children.”

And, don’t even get me started on Ma’am, which should be useful as a respectful term for all women, but comes with nasty, getting-old connotations these days. I’m 41 years old and still cringe when someone calls me ma’am because I don’t feel old enough to be one.

Really, men? On this topic, you’ve got it soooo much easier than we women do.

I sometimes wonder if this confusion is part of the reason that so many of us these days just refer to ourselves by our first name. We might introduce ourselves by our full name (“Hi, pleased to meet you. I’m Dorothy Gale.”), but when someone then calls us “Miss. Gale,” we immediately protest, “Oh, just call me Dorothy.” It seems friendlier. Simpler. And much more casual for the days when we’re wearing jeans instead of our ruby slippers.

All of which begs the question … How do you address people? When is the last time you called someone by Mr. or Mrs? Do you feel flattered or offended when the clerk at the grocery store gives you a “Ma’am” with your change. (Male readers, feel free to ignore that last question.) Is the title respectful? Or does it make you feel old? Do you want that respectful distance, or do you just want to be one of the guys? How would you refer to the CEO of a major company who shows up unexpectedly in the lunch room and sits at your table and starts chatting about his kids?

As for me, though, you can just call me Deb. Or Miss. Puncuality Rules. Or, well, Queen of Civility, if you must, but that’s so formal, I’ll need to run to get my tiara.

As a knitter, I recently read a couple of articles about the upswing of making things by hand, and also an, um, unique competition for sock knitters, with great interest. “Handmade isn’t a fad… it’s a resurgence, one that is of a piece with the booming interest in organic food,” says the “Handmade 2.0″ article. An interesting thought, don’t you find?

“Okay,” you might be thinking, “But, Deb, what does this have to do with writing?”

Well, let me ask you a question. What are you reading right now?

A blog. Not something professional like a newspaper, book, or magazine, or even something “corporate,” like a website put up by a multi-national corporation with big bucks to spend. No, you’re reading a handmade, hand-produced article written by little, ol’ me. Nobody is paying me to write this for you, I’m doing it because I want to, for the pleasure of putting my opinions out there in the world. Except for the software that runs it, this blog is handmade. So are most of the blogs that you read. Their writers may or may not be making some money off of them, but most people are writing them for the pleasure of talking about something important to them–whether that is a hobby, current events, fashion, cooking, money-making tips, business matters. Except for “company bloggers,” most bloggers are putting their content together for the joy of the subject.

See? Hand-made.

I think this is a wonderful thing–this broadening of resources and lines of communication. The “professionals” are no longer the only ones with a public voice. Because that’s the other thing that struck me about those articles–new and personal self-expression by looking at something that may be right under your nose, and doing something different with it. Taking the passion for knitting socks (yes, really) and turning it into a cut-throat competition. Putting together magazines and websites devoted to helping people realize the joy of making something new, with their hands and their wits.

Because, well … think about that, too. Isn’t that the essence of writing just about anything? Taking your store of words and assembling them into some sequence that communicates, enlightens, informs, or entertains in a way that nobody else could duplicate. You’re spinning your words together in a totally unique way, because nobody else can think quite like you can. Which makes whatever you write handmade, and totally your own.

Now, “homespun” has the connotation of being rustic and less-than-perfect. Elegant characters in books are never described as wearing homespun clothing. A folksy person might described as talking with a homespun style. But don’t let that make you think that any “hand-made” writing you may do is less than ideal. People were keeping themselves warm and dry with homespun fabric for centuries before you could walk into a store and buy the stuff.

My feeling is that, these days, when we’re surrounded by so many commercial, mass-manufactured things, a whiff of “hand-made” is a good thing. It brings back the personal touch.

Not to mention that extra satisfaction of having created something of your own.

So, show your homespun blog entries with pride. Or your hand-made pottery, your handspun yarn. Or your own, personal angle at how to do something, learn something, teach something . . . Because, that’s the wonderful thing about making something of your very own–you’ve created something totally new and all your own.

Are you a Pragmatist or a Dreamer? Do you prefer to spend your time in reality or a world all your own?

For whatever reason, this question has been on my mind a lot lately, possibly because there is such a dichotomy staring me in the face every day. Reality TV vs scripted drama. Non-fiction reading vs novels. Documentaries vs movies. Improvisational theater vs a musical show. Symphony vs opera. Rock concert vs mp3-player. Anderson Cooper vs Jon Stewart.

Obviously, all of us need to spend at least some of our time in reality–balancing checkbooks, making sure there’s food on the table, looking for cars before crossing the street. Basic, real-world activities. But, we can’t forget the non-real pleasures like losing yourself in a good novel, or the adrenalin rush of a suspense thriller (or a roller-coaster).

I know any number of people who pride themselves on being hard-core realists–they never read anything other than business sites, newspapers, or other forms of non-fiction. If they watch something on television other than the news, it’s, possibly, a sports broadcast, or the food network. Spending time on something fictional is considered unproductive. How can something “untrue” help their business? Sloppy, make-believe thinking is just a distraction, and being “creative” is a waste of time.

Needless to say, I think that’s short-sighted. How many practical, successful inventions started with a dream? “What if we didn’t have to hand-write every book, but could come up with a way to print them?” “What if there were a way to light a room with electricity?” “What if we sliced the bread before we sold it?” “What if we take that round thing and turn it into a wheel?”

If you don’t open yourself up to things that aren’t “real,” you could be missing out on a wealth of opportunities.

I’m not saying that everybody should stop writing whatever it is they write to focus on fluffy, dreamy poetry. Or that they should embrace their inner sculptor, or start meditating to find their inner artist. Oh, no. Fairy tales are (mostly) for children and the occasional recreational moment. The “real world” demands hard work, and happily ever after only happens after you’ve paid your dues and fought for it. Right?

Well, yes and no. But certainly, opening yourself up to the possibility of thinking creatively can only be a good thing. A new way to describe something without using a cliche. A new way to market your product. A new way to cook chicken for dinner. A chance to be the first on your block to have a nifty new idea that will revolutionize life as we know it.

You can’t depend that your fairy godmother is going to wave her wand and make all your dreams come true, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t leave her an opening, in case she wants to.

Here’s a tricky question for you: Do you demand perfection? Of yourself? Of others?

It’s a hard one, isn’t it? Personally, I feel that I’m about one, short step away from being a perfectionist–I know that perfection is impossible to achieve, and yet my standards of behavior are quite high. I don’t expect every book I read to be perfectly copy-edited, but am frustrated if I find more than one or two errors. I don’t expect the house to be neat as a pin every minute of the day, but I can’t stand clutter piling up. I don’t expect my practically-perfect dog, Chappy, to walk at heel when we stroll around the neighborhood, but I expect him not to pull on his leash.

Then, I wonder if my standards are too high? Can I really expect Chappy not to get excited and pull on his leash when he sees one of his best friends? And the writing desk in my bedroom is rather more covered with stuff than I would like–yet the pile, while manageable, never entirely goes away. That’s okay, though, because, really, who wants to feel like they’re living in a museum? Or has a Stepford Dog? Robotic perfection simply isn’t human.

So, is it a good or a bad thing to expect people to live up to virtually-impossible ideals of behavior? To have perfect manners, to write thank you notes, to be dressed nicely at all times? To always signal before they turn at an intersection? To return library books on time, always repay their debts, donate time and money to worthy causes, all while being kind to children and small animals?

The truth is that nobody can meet Miss. Manners’ standards for every minute of every day. (No, not even I.) So why even try? Is it because we’re all just trying to get through our days, our lives as painlessly as possible? Is it a matter of respect for one another? Is it all just for the sake of appearances? Or is it something more?

Personally, I think it’s a little of all these things, but also something more–an attempt to be the best that we can be. Not necessarily the best in a given role–the best accountant, the best parent, the best chef–but the best self. I strive to be the best Deb I can be, with all my faults. I know that perfection isn’t attainable, but really, I owe it to myself to try.

This has always been a word that intrigued me. Its root comes from “Holy Day,” of course, but it’s come to mean so much more. It’s used for a day off work or for a religious holy day. The Brits (“We’re going on holiday to the Brighton”) use it the same way we Americans use vacation (“We’re going on vacation to Martha’s Vineyard.)

And yet, it doesn’t so much have the “holy” connotation any more, does it? Even the very-religious holidays like Easter. Mostly, holidays these days seem to be a reason to gather family and friends, possibly exchange gifts or greeting cards, but without so much a “religious” emphasis, even for the ones that are fundamentally religious in nature.

And then there are days like, say, Thanksgiving which we’re celebrating here in the US today–a day for family, a day to be generally thankful, and a day to eat lots and lots of turkey and the essential trimmings (not to mention pie). No religious connotations whatsoever … except, when you get down to it, while going to church or temple or mosque and communing with God is a spiritually-important thing, in this day and age, isn’t it also important to commune with your family and loved ones? It may not be “holy,” exactly, but we live in a busy, hectic age, and to me, family will always be the most important focus, and having a day dedicated to spending it with them in thanks and good fellowship?

Perfect. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone–wherever you are!

hol·i·day

O.E. haligdæg, from halig “holy” + dæg “day;” in 14c. meaning both “religious festival” and “day of recreation,” but pronunciation and sense diverged 16c.

–noun

1. a day fixed by law or custom on which ordinary business is suspended in commemoration of some event or in honor of some person.
2. any day of exemption from work (distinguished from working day)
3. a time or period of exemption from any requirement, duty, assessment, etc.: New businesses may be granted a one-year tax holiday.
4. a religious feast day; holy day, esp. any of several usually commemorative holy days observed in Judaism.
5. sometimes, holidays. Chiefly British. a period of cessation from work or one of recreation; vacation.
6. an unintentional gap left on a plated, coated, or painted surface.

–adjective

1. of or pertaining to a festival; festive; joyous: a holiday mood.
2. suitable for a holiday: holiday attire.

–verb (used without object)

1. Chiefly British. to vacation: to holiday at the seaside.

Also, coincidentally, Joanna was asking about “holiday” just the other day. What does holiday mean to you?

Let’s be clear: Civility and Civilization do not depend on knowing when to shake someone’s hand, or which fork to use at dinner. Decisions about whether the short version of “electronic mail” should be spelled with or without a hyphen are not earth-shaking. You don’t have to look down your nose at those enthusiastic e-mails with a multitude of exclamation points. If you’ve had a long day, it’s not even mandatory that you give up your seat on the bus.

When you add all these things together, though, along with road rage, the “familiarity breeds contempt” aspect of e-mail and the internet, and the fact that nobody appears to get dressed up for anything other than the occasional wedding any more . . . then it starts to look like we’re getting too casual about everything.

There was an episode of the sitcom “Just Shoot Me” in 1998 where the fashion expert, Nina Van Horn, comes to the office upset because she’d just seen the movie Titanic and was distraught. “All those beautiful clothes! People don’t make clothing like that anymore Everyone talks about the absentee father, but it’s casual wear that’s ruining society.” She may have exaggerated just a tad (grin), but maybe she wasn’t completely wrong.

We’ve come a long way from Jane Austen’s era when every daily detail was proscribed by etiquette. I wouldn’t want to go back to that strict set of rules any more than I’d want to go back to wearing a corset, but even as little as forty years ago, people wore hats every day, wore suits when they travelled, and got dressed for the theater. Being comfortable is a good thing, but the addiction to comfort is insidious. Why wear a skirt if jeans will do? Why wear a neck tie if you can get away with a polo shirt? Why hold the door when women’s lib so clearly made the point that women want to be treated equally to men? Why bother with spelling when it’s just an e-mail to a friend?

Except . . . what if it’s a formal business meeting? Or a funeral? There are every-day occasions where formality is still important. What if that woman you’re not holding the door for has her arms full of groceries–or a child? What about a woman holding the door for a man with his arms full?

None of these things are mandatory, but a certain amount of politeness is the oil that helps keep society running smoothly. Even if the sales clerk too busy chatting on the phone to ring up your order doesn’t seem to deserve any respect, don’t you owe it to yourself to be the best member of society you can be? Lead by example. It’s a matter of respect, after all . . . for yourself as much as for other people.

Since this blog is called “Punctuality Rules!,” let’s talk about punctuality, shall we? To quote myself, “Punctuality is not just about making meetings on time, but about being exact. It’s about doing what needs to be done at exactly the time it should be done. To me, that’s an issue that transcends mere punctuation.” This is true, but punctuality is primarily about being on time. This is important for so many reasons, but the main one, to me, is about respect. When you make an appointment with someone–a doctor, a hair-stylist, a friend, a date–it’s a social contract, an agreement to be at the same place at the same time. There’s a reasonable amount of leeway built in to this agreement. A few minutes for bad traffic, a sick child, a broken heel on your shoe is understandable. Life happens. I don’t think there’s a single person who hasn’t had to wait for somebody at some point in their life.

However, there are people who are chronically late. Always. My best friend in high school was regularly 10 minutes late whenever we’d get together. I learned to adapt, even if that meant I spent a lot of time hanging out in her hallway while she ran around after her coat, her gloves, her bookbag. It was marginally inconvenient, but more like a personal quirk. But then there are the people who are unreasonably late. One of my father’s friends when he was in high school was so constantly late that when his group of buddies would make plans, they would automatically tell him to meet them an hour earlier than the actual time. Even worse, a relative of my brother-in-law is regularly hours late to any family event. For a recent family party that started at 12:00 noon, she showed up around 7:00. Seven hours late, with no apology whatsoever, even though she arrived just in time to interfere with the hostess trying to get her 8-month old baby down for a much-needed nap.

I really can’t help but wonder how this ever became acceptable behavior. In fact, I don’t think that it is acceptable. A few minutes? I can make allowances–especially if young children are involved–but anything more than, say, 15 minutes requires explanation. First, there should absolutely be a phone call to say, “I’m running late but I’m on my way.” This is mandatory. It’s not nice to leave the people you’re meeting worrying that you’ve been run over by a bus–whether it’s a business meeting or a social event, that’s just not cool.

More than that, though, the people who are chronically late . . . the ones you can rely on to show up well behind everybody else . . . to my mind, they are nothing but selfish. Don’t they realize that everybody has a schedule? Everybody has things to juggle, obligations to meet, but as I said earlier, an appointment is its own obligation. If you’ve made a committment to show up, you show up. Period. Unless there’s an emergency, in which case, again, you call. It’s not like it’s impossible to find a phone these days. There’s probably one in your pocket right now.

If it’s a business appointment, arriving late is unprofessional and it’s going to reflect badly on you for having kept your compatriot waiting–as if their time is worth less than yours. Which, let’s face it, unless you’re Donald Trump, is not the case. If it’s a social engagement, showing up late just implies that you don’t care enough about the other person to bother. Which probably isn’t the case, either, or why would you bother to agree to meet in the first place?

Like I said, it’s a matter of respect. A little decency. An acknowledgment that the world doesn’t revolve around any one person’s schedule. Unless you’re the King or Queen. If you’re wearing a crown, I suppose I’m willing to make allowances. After all, travelling with an entourage can be time-consuming. For the rest of us, though? You learned to tell time in kindergarten, right? There was a reason for that.