When you teach your son, you teach your son’s son.  ~The Talmud

Since Fathers’ Day, I’ve been thinking a good bit about my fatherhood and my relationship with my 12-year-old son. He and I usually run jog together in the mornings, but he has been unable to join me the last couple of days. As a result, I’ve had some thinking time during my solo workouts.

What are the life lessons I would like for my son to learn from me? What can I teach him to truly help him get a running start towards maximizing his amazing potential?

1. Take responsibility for your actions. Don’t shift blame. Be truthful. Don’t give excuses. In the end, effort matters somewhat but performance is what really counts. Be a stand-up guy on which others can depend.
2. Be a creator. The world is full of takers with a sense of entitlement. Don’t wait to be told what needs to be done. Search out opportunities to fill needs and create value.
3. Be a positive thinker. The world is full of naysayers. Complaining is pointless. Worrying solves nothing. Your attitude shapes your reality. Don’t let you be the limiting factor on realizing your potential. Dream big and know that your dreams are possible.
   • As a corollary to positive thinking, push your envelope. Make it a habit to go outside your comfort zone. The person that lifts the same weight for the same number of repetitions every day, never grows stronger. Make sure you’re straining a bit. Don’t be afraid to fail. Increase your capabilities.
4. Be true to yourself. Don’t fall prey to peer pressure. Don’t be a sheep. Think for yourself. Don’t be afraid to be different and to stand out from the crowd. And always follow your moral compass.
5. Have fun. Life is indeed short. Don’t make it all seriousness and no fun — that makes Jack a dull boy. Notice the absurdities and relish the ironies. Laugh often. Play hard. Love a lot.

Now if only I could learn these lessons.

…Physician, heal thyself… –Luke 4:23

Memory is a crazy woman that hoards colored rags and throws away food. — Austin O’Malley

I have an erratic memory. On second thought, erratic is the wrong word; I have a very selective memory. My problem is that I don’t get to select what I remember.

If I’m asked to pick up three things from the store on the way home, I’m lucky to remember to stop at the store. If I do stop, I won’t be able to recall at least one of the items. If I borrow an item, I’ll place it next to the door so that I’ll remember to return it; it will still be there a month later. I don’t recall what I had for lunch yesterday, nor the name of the movie I saw last week. If you introduce yourself to me, it’s guaranteed that I’ll forget your name within 30 seconds.

On the other hand, I will remember your face forever. I retain almost every joke I ever hear. My recall of useless trivia is near legendary. Van Gogh cut off his left ear (he was right-handed). Neville Chamberlain was the British prime minister whose policy of appeasing Hitler was supposed to ensure “peace in our time”. There are 63 known moons orbiting Jupiter.

I can tell you immediately that the first 12 digits of pi are 3.14159265359. The first 12 digits of the natural log e? Why, it’s 2.71828182845. Avogadro’s number is 6.0221415 x 10²³. And, of course, the speed of light is 186,282.397 miles/second. Doesn’t everyone know these constants off the top of their head?

I recently watched an episode of “The Human Mind” on the Science Channel in which the 2003 World Memory Champion (yes, there apparently is such a contest) was featured.

Of course, I can’t recall his name.

The man was given 10 shuffled decks of cards which he memorized in order. He was then asked to name the 103^rd card…the 17^th card… the 484^th card, etc. He correctly named the card every time! In fact, he then named all 520 cards in sequence!

How did he do it? He used what was termed a “location” technique. He lives in London and before demonstrations, he takes a ritualized walk through the city — always the same path, visiting the same sites. As he examined the decks of cards, he married the sequence of cards into his memorized walk. In addition, he uses imagery for each card; the two of clubs becomes a teddy bear, a 10 of diamonds becomes a saw. So, if those were the first two cards and he began his walk at Big Ben, he would visualize a teddy bear with a saw at Big Ben.

I was discussing this technique with my business partner and he mentioned that in the Hannibal Lecter series of books, Lecter describes his “memory mansion” which he decorates with treasured memories — another location technique.

In the same episode, an Oxford University study was profiled in which grade school children were given a daily pill for several months. Most of the students experienced a marked increase in their academic abilities, concentration, imagination, and memory. What was the magic pill? An Omega-3 supplement.

So, if you meet me in the near future and feel that I’m eyeing you in an odd manner, it’s probably because I’m picturing you as an octopus at Starbucks. And that smell? It’s because I’ve overdosed on Omega-3 laden fish oil.

If you’re trying to remember a happy memory, don’t think back to a time when you were ALSO thinking of a happy memory, because man, how long does this go on?! –Jack Handey, Deep Thoughts

"Tut, tut, child!" said the Duchess. "Everything’s got a moral, if only you can find it."

I was raised in a Christian household; Sundays, and a lot of Wednesday evenings, were spent at the church. As a kid, I was a fervent believer; I knew I was saved and going to heaven. Hallelujah!

As I grew up, I questioned, and ultimately became disillusioned with, the idea of church and religion. The more I learned of history, the more I saw religion as a divisive force on humanity. Many of history’s atrocities were, and still are, committed in the name of religion. The more I learned of science, the more I saw religion as superstition. It simply doesn’t stand up to scientific method and reason. The more I learned of psychology, the more I saw religion as an ego defense mechanism. It’s used to help people deal with circumstances beyond their control.

I’ve heard the argument put forth, perhaps most eruditely by C.S. Lewis, that mankind’s age-old and constant search for religion is, in itself, proof of a higher being. How can man suffer from this persistent and common delusion, unless there is indeed something to it? I call this the "where there’s smoke there’s fire" argument, and I just don’t buy it.

First, just because a meme is ancient and persistent doesn’t mean it’s correct. People have believed in magic since the dawn of time. Racial stereotypes still tragically persist. The common cold is not caused by a person becoming chilled. Habitual knuckle cracking does not cause arthritis, nor does masturbation cause blindness, cats don’t steal air from baby’s mouths, and you can’t see the stars during the daytime from the bottom of a deep shaft.

Secondly, if the existence of a persistent religious meme is proof of a God, then why are there so many very diverse religions? Many religions have multiple deities. Some religions practice ancestor worship (even the Catholic church to some extent). Many religions have practiced blood sacrifice, both animal and human. Some religions worship nature and animal spirits. How can the smoke/fire argument be used to prove a single God when, in fact, for most of history, the majority of mankind has practiced forms of religion that are not mono-theistic?

So, I am now, at best, extremely agnostic; one who is skeptical about the existence of God but does not profess true atheism. I cannot find any proof that God exists, but, of course, there isn’t any proof that God doesn’t exist either. French mathematician, and philosopher Blaise Pascal, pondered this paradox and developed an argument for the belief in God based on probability and decision theory; his argument has come to be known as Pascal’s Wager. Pascal postulates that it is better to believe in God because the expected reward is greater than the expected reward of not believing. If you believe and God exists, then you gain infinite reward; if he does not exist, you lose virtually nothing by comparison. If you don’t believe and God exists, you get infinite punishment; if he does not exist, you gain virtually nothing by comparison. Of course, Pascal assumes that we have an eternal afterlife and that our life on Earth is negligible by comparison.

A counter-argument to Pascal’s Wager exists called the Atheist’s Wager. Wikipedia sums it up nicely as:

You should live your life and try to make the world a better place for your being in it, whether or not you believe in God. If there is no God, you have lost nothing and will be remembered fondly by those you left behind. If there is a benevolent God, he may judge you on your merits coupled with your commitments, and not just on whether or not you believed in him.

I’ve always had issues with the Christian philosophy that salvation comes through faith and never through works. By that measure, the most vile torturer of the Inquisition is listening to harp music while strolling streets of gold, and Gandhi is screaming his agony as his flesh boils off his bones. Is the man that taught the world the power of peaceful protest roasting in a Christian hell? I know Christianity is about forgiveness — being absolved of guilt because of your faith. I view that as similar to inherited wealth. If you had to follow someone’s advice for the attainment of wealth, would you choose someone who inherited their wealth or someone who earned their wealth? Paris Hilton or Warren Buffett?

Interestingly, a good friend recently told me of the Apostle Paul’s struggles with problems such as ‘the Gandhi question’. Compare the Atheist’s Wager to what the Apostle Paul said in a letter to the Romans.

What then shall we say? Is God unjust? Not at all! For he says to Moses, "I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion." It does not, therefore, depend on man’s desire or effort, but on God’s mercy. –Romans 9:14-16

It dovetails nicely with the Atheist’s Wager, doesn’t it? Of course, I would wager that the Atheist’s Wager was developed with knowledge of that particular scripture.

So, in the end, the whole question is a conundrum with no proof in either direction, but I lean heavily towards my logical side that does not believe — nay, scoffs — at the idea of an omnipotent being. Nevertheless, there’s the small part that says, "What if?"

"There is no use trying," said Alice, "one can’t believe impossible things."

"I dare say you haven’t had much practice," said the Queen. "When I was your age, I always did it for half an hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."

I recently viewed an exhibit about the Hubble Space Telescope at the S.C. State Museum. I’ve always been fascinated with astronomy, physics, and science in general. To be honest, though, I found the exhibit shallow and disappointing; however, the exhibit did impress upon me, once again, the sheer enormity of space.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah", you’re thinking, "we all know space is big. DUH!" And you’re right. Everyone does know the distances are huge, but I don’t think they really comprehend the size. For instance, Alpha Centauri is the nearest neighboring star to our Sun at only 4.3 light years away. Only 4.3 light years equates to 25,265,838,509,316.77 miles! That’s 25 trillion miles! Then again, somehow the concept of a trillion doesn’t convey the magnitude (pun intended) of the number. Imagine a stack of paper 25 trillion sheets high. Any idea how tall that stack would be? A sheet of standard copier paper is 0.0038" thick so a stack of 25 trillion sheets would be 1,499,368 miles high — or a little over 6 times the distance to the moon!

As I said, it’s 25 trillion miles (4.3 light years) to the nearest star other than the Sun, but this is a mere speck compared to the size of our galaxy. The Milky Way is 100,000 light years in diameter, over 23,000 times the distance from the Sun to Alpha Centauri — 587,577,639,751,552,790 miles. Now that corresponding stack of paper is 34,485,464,000 (34 billion) miles high, roughly 7.5 times the radius of our solar system!

The farthest astronomical object yet discovered is a galaxy estimated to be 13 billion light years distant. That distance is 130,000 times greater than the diameter of the Milky Way. Now the corresponding stack of paper is 4,483,110,320,000,000 miles high — over 177 times the distance to Alpha Centauri!

It’s not just distances that are mind-boggling. It’s estimated that the Milky Way contains 200 billion stars. And the Milky Way is just one of an estimated 125 billion galaxies! In all, the estimated number of stars in the known universe is 10²¹ — that’s 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 stars. Interestingly, depending on whose estimate you use, that’s roughly equivalent to the number of grains of sand on Earth.

…as the stars of the heaven, and as the sand which is upon the sea shore… –Genesis 22:17

Like a lot of people, I tend to partition my life into segments. There’s the work segment, the personal family segment, the martial art segment, etc. Of course, a segment can be composed of subsegments; for instance, friends can be categorized as my wife’s friends, my personal friends, or friends of both my wife and myself (usually other couples).

For the most part, the segments don’t bleed into each other very much; in a sense, I lead multiple lives. My family and personal friends rarely cross into my professional life and my professional friendships rarely bleed over into my personal life. There are exceptions; my business partner is also a close personal friend of mine –but not of my wife. Not that my wife dislikes my partner; it’s just that they rarely have cause to interact.

And, yes, I know there are those of you out there who are eager to demonstrate your wit over that last statement, but please, just save it.

If you think about it, it’s amazing how strongly we compartmentalize our lives. We see the clerk at the convenience store almost every morning, but fail to recognize him when we meet him out of the context of the store. This situation can lead to some uncomfortable "Where do I know him from?" moments.  I’m especially prone to this predicament because not only do I compartmentalize my life, but I also have a strong memory for faces but not for names; I am forever recognizing faces but not able to associate a name or context.

For myself, I find the blurring of compartments somewhat disconcerting. I find there is something uncomfortable about mixing associates and friends from different contexts. For this reason, I rarely go out after work with business associates or even attend company parties. Even if I go to lunch regularly with a coworker, I rarely associate with them outside of business. By the same token, I rarely lunch with my wife even though she and I are often available to lunch together. The idea of hosting an event for business associates at my house horrifies me with its absolute wrongness.

In computer science, we have an event called a segmentation fault that occurs when a software program attempts to use memory it is not allowed to access. At the risk of oversimplification (or overexplanation), when a program runs, a chunk (compartment, if you will) of memory is assigned to the process by the operating system. If the program/process attempts to access memory outside of that assigned compartment — such as memory belonging to another process — the operating system detects the unauthorized access and generates a segmentation fault, thereby shutting down the offending process and protecting other running processes.

That’s how I feel.

Wishing to be friends is quick work, but friendship is a slow ripening fruit.  ~Aristotle

Over the last couple of weeks, I have spent a few days with my lifelong best friend. First, he came to visit me and we spent a couple of days engaging in the manly pursuit of big game hunting (deer). Then, over the holidays, my family and I visited Eric and his wife, Barbara, at their home for a day, where we engaged in the manly pursuit (even though Barbara knows more about college football than most men) of watching college football.

It takes a long time to grow an old friend.  ~John Leonard

Eric and I grew up into manhood together. We became good friends just out of high school and were best, hang-out-every-day friends for the next 10 years. Since then, we have lived in different states for the last 15 years, trying to visit each other a couple of times a year. Despite the geographical and chronological distances in our friendship, I know that with a single phone call and no questions, Eric would be at my doorstep to lend a helping hand. And he knows the same of me.

Friends are relatives you make for yourself.  ~Eustache Deschamps

I suspect that at first we liked each other because of shared common interests or possibly shared traits that we like in ourselves. But, I wonder if friendships deepen when people begin to see traits in the other person that they wish they had themselves. In Eric’s case, I’ve always admired his spontaneity and adaptability to change. Since I’ve known him, Eric has had multiple careers including machinist, sailor, high school teacher, salesman, real estate investor, hair stylist, camp counselor, and a few others I can’t recall offhand.

Friendship… is not something you learn in school. But if you haven’t learned the meaning of friendship, you really haven’t learned anything.  ~Muhammad Ali

In the long run though, I think true friendships are created when a casual friendship accrues a critical mass of shared experiences. Put another way, the shared experiences reinforce the friendship until they become a buttress making the friendship truly strong. To carry that analogy further, not only do the shared experiences buttress the friendship, but the friendship buttresses us against the stresses of life. Which leads me to one last friendship quote for a regular reader — and you know who you are…

A good friend is cheaper than therapy.  ~Author Unknown

My partner was recently awarded his first degree black belt in Danzan Ryu Jujitsu. In order to achieve his shodan level, he had to demonstrate his knowledge and proficiency in 160-odd techniques (throws, chokes, joint locks, etc.). While I was congratulating him, he made the comment that now he can go back and explore those techniques in more depth; he feels he has achieved a breadth of knowledge and now wants to deepen that knowledge. As a middle-aged martial artist, I appreciate the mental and philosophical aspects of the martial arts as much as the physical aspect, and Scott’s comment echoed an essay I had just read by Dave Lowry in his book Moving Toward Stillness. Lowry tells the story of when he was young judoka (judo practitioner) witnessing the award ceremony for 5 new shodan black belts. Acting as one of the proctors and attending the ceremony was an extremely high ranking judo practitioner. Each of the testers congratulated the new shodans and gave bits of wisdom. Lowry recalls how he listened intently to see what words of wisdom the master would impart to the new black belts.

"You have taken a big step forward. Now, I hope you will take a big step back."

Many teaching systems use a "peel another layer" or cyclical approach to learning. Although a system may appear to be linear as students progress through a series of ranks such as belts in the martial arts or grades in school, in actuality most systems are layered and cyclical. Recall your grade school years; every year you studied the same basic subjects (the 3 R’s plus history), but each year was another layer of depth and understanding. When you graduated college, you had a broad knowledge of your subject field. But you weren’t an expert until you garnered a few years of real experience and had internalized the lessons learned in school. In fact, the practice of putting the lessons to work forces you to take a new view of the lessons, and provides a new perspective into their meanings and truths.

The martial arts are similar. A beginning student progresses through the ranks in a seemingly linear fashion, learning new techniques, katas, and movements. However, even though the student is eventually competent with advanced techniques, he/she is still expected to practice endless repetitions of kihon (basics). As they become more accomplished martial artists, the constant repetition of kihon leads to a deeper understanding and internalization of the art –peeling another layer.

Watch a class of beginning karateka practicing punches and you will see a group of students performing the gross motor movements necessary to perform a punch and, in fact, they may be able to throw an effective punch. Watch a group of first degree black belts performing the same techniques though and you will see a huge difference; there is no doubt that a shodan is able to throw an effective punch. While the beginner thinks at the surface layer of hitting a target with his fist, a shodan has discovered and internalized a number of layers of knowledge about the technique; solid stance, elbows in close, rotate your fist at impact, relax until the moment of impact, strongly chamber the non-striking hand, power flows up from the floor, snap the punch back, etc.

Even so, the shodan is not an expert. Achieving shodan rank is an important rite of passage but, in fact, a shodan is considered to have a thorough grounding in basic technique and ready to begin serious training. The gap between a shodan and second degree black belt (nidan) is as large as the difference between a white belt and shodan. And the difference is not so much one of breadth of knowledge as it is depth of understanding. The difference between shodans and nidans performing the same techniques is palpable, just like the difference between beginning karateka and shodans.

I suspect this pattern is prevalent in most endeavors. Most accomplished musicians probably warm up by practicing scales and basic exercises on their instruments. I imagine they compose songs in a layered fashion; revisiting the song and adding nuances with each iteration. Artists learn a breadth of techniques and mediums, and become true artists when they begin to weave their technical skill with an understanding of the interplay of light and composition. Magicians will eventually learn a huge library of tricks and will concentrate on the nuances of performance. Writers imagine a general plot, compose an outline, and develop a story through layers of drafts.

So, where am I going with this somewhat rambling post? I don’t know, but I feel as if I’ve peeled a mental layer while writing this entry.

P.S. Congratulations, Scott.

Marla Olmstead is a little girl who has taken the art world by storm; she has been hailed as a Picasso-type prodigy and also compared to Jackson Pollock. Her paintings have sold for tens of thousands of dollars. Marla began her painting career just before her 2nd birthday; she is now 6 years old.

When she was featured on 60 Minutes however, questions were raised about whether she actually did all the painting. A child psychologist, Ellen Winner, who has studied gifted children and specializes in visual arts studied the paintings and videos of Marla painting, has grave reservations about whether Marla is the artistic force behind the paintings. According to Winner, videos of Marla show an young girl painting in the manner of ordinary young children, essentially pushing the paint around, playing and experimenting with the paint. Prodigies exhibit a feverish “rage to master”, working with an intense focus and drive. In addition, Winner says, “I have never seen a child prodigy paint in art abstractly. I’ve only seen them paint realistically or representationally. I have a drawing of Picasso at age 9. It shows that Picasso was struggling to draw realistically, and he was way ahead of his age.”

So, who is the artist doing the paintings for which people are paying many thousands of dollars? Some people think it’s her father, an amateur artist who is present when she paints. Her parents, of course, dispute the accusation. They say that while the father does help Marla by priming her canvases, she does all of the painting. The only help they provide Marla is love and encouragement. The 60 Minutes reporter says that while he has a hard time believing Marla created these paintings, he also believes her parents are good people and wouldn’t use their little girl to deceive the world.

So which is it? Are Marla’s parents horrible monsters using an innocent little girl to commit fraud on the art world? Or, in a “the nail that sticks up is the one that gets beaten down” scenario, is the world so coldly cynical that it cannot accept the explosion of a extraordinary talent in one so young? Either way, the situation is a somewhat sad commentary.

I know that the truth will eventually win out, and that I, for one, hope there is indeed a superlative new artist in the making.

I ran across this today and found it interesting. Do you see the dancer spinning clockwise or counter-clockwise? According news.com.au, you use more of the right side of your brain if you see the dancer spinning clockwise.

Personally, I first saw the dancer spinning counter-clockwise (no big surprise there), but by looking away and back again, I can see her spinning in either direction now. Although, try as I might, I can’t see her change direction while looking at her.

Update: The animated dancer illustrates an interesting browser difference. In Internet Explorer, the dancer moves jerkily, leaves blips on the screen, and consumes an inordinate amount of memory. Firefox, on the other hand, displays a smooth animation with no blips and only uses 20%-25% of memory compared to IE.

For the last 20+ years, I’ve made my living as a computer programmer primarily utilizing the logical left side of my brain. Oddly enough, I spent the first few years of my adult life working as an artist specializing in black and white illustrations. Although, in truth, I find a lot of similarities between developing software and creating a picture. In both professions, I’ve achieved the best results by "broad brushing" in a general layout and then working in progressively more detailed iterations over the entire project.

Despite the similarities, I’m finding myself chafing at the atrophy of the creative right side of my brain due to two decades of forced submission. I suddenly have a desire to re-awaken my creativity and break down those self-induced limitations. This desire is part of my motivation for keeping this blog; even though this blog is not creative writing, it is a form of personal expression that will hopefully evolve from a forced discipline into an easy and natural act.

I’ve also picked up my sketchbook again. After two decades, my skills are naturally very rusty. By skills, I mean my ability to "see" what I’m drawing. I maintain that anyone who can write legibly has the technical competency to draw; in other words, they can manipulate a pencil to produce the line they want. After all, anyone can trace a picture right? Tracing lets you "see" your subject in a way that makes it easy for you to reproduce the image using your pencil manipulation skills. To draw from life, you merely need to learn to "see" objects in new ways.

This is the premise of the book Drawing On The Right Side Of The Brain, a classic book on the subject of learning to draw. I’ve unearthed my 30 year old copy of the book and am working through the exercises in it. While I haven’t felt the scale and rust falling away yet, I can definitely see some improvement already. So, I’m pushing out of my comfort zone into areas that I used to habitate but are new again. I have a dim memory of this landscape but am having to learn how to navigate it again. Look at the difference between an idle doodling of a fisherman at rest that I did 25 years ago versus my earnest efforts with some of the exercises from the aforementioned book.

It’s like trying to ride a bike again after 30 years; you can still do it, but you sure are wobbly. It will be a while before I can do a wheelie again.