February Malaise

It's still winter. Still. For some reason winter seems to be dragging its' feet this year. Every weekend brings a few more inches of the white stuff. I have to jump on removing it or it makes more of a mess.

Growing up in Florida, I have found no earthly use for snow. I recognize the role it plays in the ecological cycle. It's important. I know that. Why for the life of me I've chosen to live in a place where it seems to be so prevalent for such anextended period of time is still a mystery to me. There are a lot of other (great) reasons to be where I am right now. The weather is not one of them.

I'm finally tackling the compilation of my vast CD collection onto my iPod. When I bought my new computer last year, I purposely oversized the hard drive with the intention of doing this. The quad processors (geek talk for fast) have substantially accelerated the time it takes to load up the discs onto my machine. I've gone so far as to include my wife's CD collection (which is eerily similar to mine, with some notable exceptions). In my mind, this little grey gadget now insures that we always have every song in our collective libraries available to us, as long as I remember to bring it along.

Mind you, I rarely listen to my iPod unless I'm traveling on a plane. In my car, I have Satellite radio and good old AM/FM talk radio. My GPS has traffic avoidance detection, so I don't need to listen to traffic and weather, but I still do. Sometimes I'll listen to CNBC on the satellite feed or public radio on the drive into work. It's rare that I listen to music. Which is odd, considering I have almost 1200 albums in my personal collection. I love music. I love to sing and play and I appreciate good music. Sometimes I think it's a tribute to my mis-spent youth - and spent is the key word.

I had dinner last night with old friends - colleagues from my first days of working for my current employer (back in 1991 - eek, where has my childhood gone?). These were the people who first inspired me, taught me the ropes and gave me a chance to learn what they know. I deeply respect them and think of them often. They are the people I try to emulate. They remind me who I want to be and how I want to be remembered.

Wow. Did they all get old! We shared stories and memories. We caught up on family. I wished dearly that my wife could've come. I talk about these people regularly to her. OK, admittedly I wanted to show off a bit, too. As much as I enjoyed the dinner and conversation, I left a bit sad. Too many of them were bitter and felt bad - either about their departure or their legacy (or lack thereof). Their memories were grounded in the good memories, but dripping with the bad. I've heard for years that the only way to leave the organization is in a pine box. Know I know why.