Waltzing

A colleague of mine at Bellevue Community College wrote a response to my posting The Making of a Molehill that never made it into the comments section. He sent it directly to me and I think it is a worthy feature in the main section here.

Bruce is an interesting man, passionate about the possibilities of technology, expert on the history of digital arts, the originator of an idea that became our DareToPlay project DareToPlay2Learn, and a closet Luddite. He only recently got his first cell phone.

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Hi Jonathan,

It's your teaching colleague in Seattle Washington. I was stuck by your statement "I can easily disparage Ikea founder Ingvar Kamprad's statement that (and I paraphrase) any idea that does not have cash value has no real value at all." I'm with you. In my view, Kamprad's statement is at the very heart of darkness of northern European cultures - imposing a narrow notion of success and happiness - hypnotizing the world with this diabolical notion through mass marketing.

Kamprad's world is one of stadium sized consumer marts, sustained by oceans of debt. William Wordsworth had a good description of this way of being in the world:"Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers." We might add... "our lives, our freedom, our Mother Earth."

The fact is, we can live very well with very little. If you read Jared Diamond's "Collapse" or James Kunstler's "The Long Emergency", Kamprad's arrogance will seem dangerously unsustainable in another 20 years. Petroleum, which is actually at the heart of IKEA's global empire, has peaked and is running out. Mother Earth is not a bottomless cornucopia.

I waltz once or twice a week. Waltzing is an idea - built upon music and the rapture of a floor of couples dancing together. It's an important part of my life. I would guess our buddy Ingvar would see no value in that, since nobody's making a buck.

- Bruce

Behavioral Study

I’ve been playing a lot of Set lately. I discovered it first on FoCB, then really pursued it during a blissful weekend celebration on the Oregon Coast with a deck that Steven brought along. I now have my own game thanks to the very keen gift-givers that are my wife’s parents. It is a brain-bender of a game, one of those that should stave off the onset of Alzheimer’s Disease if played on a regular basis. One that my father - bio, not step - would have loved. The short explanation is that one must find patterns of both similarity and dissimilarity in groups of threes. So as it has bent my brain, I find that I am looking at the visual environment quite differently. I'm looking for patterns.

Take It

Yesterday, I received an email at work inviting me to take a "Behavioral Test." It was sent by my supervisor's supervisor, and I decided to take it. Rather, I complied without hesitation. I've taken many such "tests" before and I find them less invasive than my more conspiratorial counterparts; where some might think that The Man is trying to find a way to control them, squelch their individuality, categorize and compartmentalize and possibly even hand the supposedly confidential results over to The Bigger Man, I tend to see them as a way to organize the office. Tests don't kill individuality, individuals kill individuality, so if the exercise is in the right hands, no harm. Right? Besides, I see my own psyche as so complex that a ten-minute, multiple choice test could hardly scratch its surface. Certainly no more than an online Mensa qualifier. Am I a mover? Or a shaker? Depends on how much coffee I had that day. Still, I have to confess that I had a moment of questioning as I would before a urine analysis: Am I somehow being compromised by this?

Yesterday's test required that I pick from a list of four words the one that best describes me, as well as the one that least describes me. So I might click on "Compliant" as well as "Conspiracy Theorist." I was warned not to dwell on any given grouping of words too long, that I should go with my gut instinct for a choice and that I shouldn't take any more time than ten minutes.

I feel I should interject here that only last Saturday night, Linda Sue and I found ourselves at an outdoor wedding celebration held at what insiders know to be one of the best wineries in Napa, enjoying some of the best wine the valley has to offer, fresh out of the barrel and siphoned into stemware by way of a plastic tube. Manchego and quince paste was served as hors d'oeuvre, followed by an exquisite Paella dinner. All under a full moon. A perfect wine country evening. During it all, we shared a table and conversation with my supervisor's supervisor and her husband about everything from surfing to children, deftly avoiding workplace war stories. And it was good conversation, pushing the high regard with which I held my Sup's Sup only higher.

Hence, my immediate compliance the following Monday when she asked me to participate in the exercise.

Kook

Given my submergence into the world of Set, there was no way possible for me to take it without seeing the patterns. Four words, each distinctly designated to behavioral types that the taker might use to describe their own behavior in the workplace. Something along the lines of:

• Miserly
• Philanthropic
• Necromantic
• Mathematical

Followed by

• Scientific
• Superstitious
• Generous
• Wallet Squeaks

Anyone that knows me would know that I needed to kill the impulse to jam this particular system. The temptation to see what kind of kook I could represent myself as was great. Check off "I'm helpful" on one question and "Climbing the Ladder" on the next. I never did see "Rogue" as one of the choices, nor did I see "Odiferous." Thankfully.

I haven't yet learned of the results of the test, and I promise to post them here when I do. I did, however, stumble upon a much more important observation about my behavior. With Father's Day approaching, I am given to reflect on how my two fathers - one bio, one step - have had influence. Jim was a rogue, quick with a whoopie cushion and even more tickled by the real thing. Bob was a good sport, first on the list to commit time and energy to the "Policeman/Man with Dog" in the church play. I've inherited both qualities, whether through nature or through nurture; I try to be a good prankster, I try to be a good sport. Were they alive today, though, I'm certain that both of my fathers would talk me into the smarter decision. "Be a good sport at work. " "Kill that whoopie cushion urge." Just take the test.

New Face

Another one to be filed under "Other Projects." My partner and I just launched the renovation of the website for our web-based, interactive storytelling project.

Go here to see it: DareToPlay