"Working" Through School

My parents, who were older than most of the parents of my friends, didn't make much money. My mom was lunch lady at our grade school, and before he became disabled with Parkinson's disease, (Meaning he stopped driving - a decision he made on his own after pulling out in front of traffic, wrecking his nearly new car) my dad operated a one bay gas station and garage he co-owned with a guy who barely did anything at all. So raising two boys and putting us through Parochial school really took everything my parents had.

When I was in high school, my Aunt and Uncle needed someone to mow their lawn so my Mom volunteered me. I didn't mind to much really as I kind of enjoyed the chore at home, and besides, I would get paid for mowing this one. Soon neighbors of my aunt and uncle, appreciating the quick and quality work I did, started asking if I would mow their lawns too, and I readily agreed. At about this same time, my best friend had purchased a new Lawn Boy mower and was mowing lawns for some of the elderly neighbors in his neighborhood. His example showed me that such an investment made good business sense: His new mower had a bagging attachment and he would charge more to haul the grass clippings away. I wanted badly to follow suit. So my mom and dad invested what I realize now must have been a good chunk of their savings in my fledgling business to pay for a brand new Lawn Boy and a very beat up old truck to haul it around in. By the end of that first summer I had paid them back for both - a sum of about two thousand dollars. For the next few years I managed about a dozen lawns a week in the summer, hauled leaves away in the fall, and cleared snow in the winter.

When I graduated from high school I really had no idea if I would even go to college. I kicked around the idea of going to the Fire Academy to be a fire fighter, staying on with the landscaping firm for which I now worked as a salaried employee, or going to a trade school to learn auto mechanics. Finally I decided that college would be the best opportunity for me to land a job that didn't leave me tired and dirty after a day's work. I wanted a job where I showered before going, rather than after getting home.

Despite earning an honest to goodness salary and still mowing a few lawns on the side, when I started College there was no extra money to be had. We filled out the financial aid forms and soon I was attending the local public university on the government's dime. I made enough to pay for my books, gas, and any entertainment expenses, and even though I still lived with my parents, I thoroughly enjoyed my years at school. I spent my first several quarters exploring various fields of study, kinda following an engineering direction - Physics, Chemistry, Calculus - but eventually I settled on Photography. (Kind of a mix of chemistry, physics and art, if you think about it!) A decision that finally exposed me to subjects I had not thought about exploring before, and really taught me a lot about life - diversity, the arts, philosophy - and taught me that I could accomplish much more than I thought I could. College presented me with challenges that, perhaps for the first time in my life, I faced head on with determination and a "can do" attitude. I had a goal, and I pursued it with all the gusto of a hungry animal chasing it's prey.

Ironically I'm not now employed as a photographer in any way whatsoever. I'm in the IT department at my company, and very much enjoy interacting with the folks I help with their computer problems. I'm convinced that I wound up where I am because of the lessons I learned in college. Not the classes I paid for so much, but the lessons I learned as a young man starting to face the world on my own. The lessons of perseverance, of entrepreneurship, of diversity and tolerance, of freedom to do what I wanted yet choosing to better myself.

Like me, our Diamonds in the rough will be working through school - of this there can be no doubt. I hope they also come away as enriched as I did.

Bringing Home Baby

D1 just turned 17 the other day and as folks often do on such occasions, I found myself hitching a ride on the wayback machine: It was not one of those long and dream-like excursions through time though; it was more of a momentary flashback, but one in which the sensations were as real as any present waking moment. For a split second, as I passed through a certain place, every one of my senses was telling me it was 17 years ago, and we were bringing our new baby home for the first time. It was enough to stop me in my tracks.

I was simply walking by the laundry room on the way from the kitchen to the front of the house. As I often do, I glanced into that little room, and that’s when it happened. Expecting to see the closed door to the garage, instead I saw – and this is particularly interesting to me – heard, smelled and felt, too – all the same sights, sounds, smells and textures of the moment 17 years ago when my wife walked through that door carrying our newborn son.

The view was curiously cropped. Oh yes, I was filming the event and saw it though the viewfinder of a video camera. I can feel the camera in my hands, warm and smooth. My hand shakes a bit. There is a familiar smell – new construction – our house is only a few months older than D1. But not a smell we usually experience now. In the background there are still boxes in the garage, beyond the blue Honda that I just made room for in there so we would not have to have the baby out in the cold for long. There really are not many sounds; my wife said something like “We’re home - finally!” But I remember the silence most because for a fleeting second that silence I experienced all those years ago reminded me just how scared I was to be coming home to the house we just moved into with a baby that I believed I knew nothing about raising . . . It was a stark, cold, lonely feeling. I put down the camera and embraced my family. Then it was all instantly, awesomely, OK.

I walked on down the hall and found that D1 still has not taken his laundry hamper back up to his room.

Sigh.

PC Strobe?

As I was showering this morning, It struck me that my blogger name - PC Strobe - may need some explaining. I think this because of the "PC" portion. It does not stand for Politically Correct. In fact, I've used this handle since my earliest online days when PC was simply short for "Personal Computer".

It was the mid to late Eighties, and "Online" meant one had dialed up a bulletin board to read and post messages. I guess this could be considered the earliest form of blogging. Any way, I would fire up the Atari 800, dial the local number of another Atari enthusiasts modem line and, at a blazing fast rate of 1200 baud, could upload posts, and read others postings. If I really wanted to tie up the line for a while I could even download programs!

So "PC" partly came from Personal Computer.

PC also happens to be part of a name for the connection between an SLR camera (and being the 80s these cameras took something called film - look it up if you are that young!) and a flash that's not mounted directly to the camera. ("PC cord" is what I always called it). And as you may know, a photographic flash is just a fancy strobe light.

So combining my two greatest interests at the time - and in a slightly punny way I thought - I came up with a character by the name of PC Strobe.

Occasionally this name takes on an odd (and unintentional) appropriateness: I feel like my "really good" thoughts are like the flash from a strobe light - Blinding in their impact, but gone in an instant. The only effect being the disorientation caused by the fleeting spots before ones eyes.

Happy Happy and Merry Merry

Merry Christmas to all, and wishing you a Happy New Year!

It's the day after Christmas and most everyone is still dozing after a long and busy Christmas day - Which is fine, everyone earned it!

This Christmas was made special by the fact that the whole family pitched in to get everything ready in time. (And by that I mean that our Diamonds in the Rough got a little more "polished" and really stepped up to help more than they ever have!) Best of all, despite the considerable time crush this year, there were no "ugly moments" when someone lost their temper; Everyone felt needed, special, appreciated, and loved!

After all, that's what Christmas is all about!

Never Go to Buy a Car Without Taking at Least One of These!

Several years ago my wife and I bought a brand new car, and learned a valuable lesson in negotiation in the process. In this case the car was for me, so I spent considerable time researching the several brands, models, options, and even the dealerships in the area to narrow down the field. (I think I started the day after I bought my last new car about 5 or 6 years prior, maybe even a bit before.)

Once I was certain of what I wanted, It only took about an hour of blinking, staring, and swearing at my research to realize that our allotted budget was just not going to buy my ideal car.

Or would it?

Once I got over the sticker shock and calmed down, I started to think in cold factual terms. To start with, I had a pretty good idea what the dealer's cost for the car was based on my Internet research. I also had a pretty good idea of what the minimum acceptable price would be from the dealership I was targeting. Right there in black and white was our budgeted amount, and it was (by a hairs breadth!)between the two.

This could work!

Heartened, I continued to inventory my weapons. I had a $500.00 manufacturers coupon from my recent trip to the auto show, I had a trade in that was in very good shape and was a popular model on the resale market, I had a date when I could spend a very l o o o n g time negotiating, I had my wife to represent the impartial voice of reason (in case I lost my objectivity), and I had our two secret weapons: The dynamic duo of Tired and Hungry Toddlers D1 and D2!

Here's a rundown of how it went.

It's Friday, early evening. We arrive at the dealership about an hour or so before closing. We begin looking at examples of the model car I'm after. A salesman engages us. He looks like a nice guy. He talks like a human. I have a slight pang of guilt, but I push it aside (this is war after all, and we have engaged the enemy!)
"Do you like these?" he asks.
"Yes I do" I say, "But it looks like we'd have to go somewhere else or order one because I don't see any exactly like what I want."
(The toddlers are climbing in a nearby car, playing "driving". They are really having a blast.)
"Why don't you all come inside and tell me what you are looking for and I'll check the computer. We have some stock in the lot across the street."
"OK"
So we go inside - D1 and D2 are upset that they have to stop playing "driving". The salesman looks a bit relieved. Once we are inside and set up at the salesman's desk, with the kids sitting on our laps, I explain exactly what I want.
"Gee we don't have any that exactly match what you want. We do have one in that color that has leather, but has an automatic instead of a stick. - I'm sure I could make you a good deal."
"It has to have a stick" I say.
"OK - well here's one in black, they are really sharp"
(The kids are getting restless)
"I had a black car once. I will never, ever buy another black car. Period"
"Ohhhkaaaay" He hesitated, then asked anyway - "Why is that?"
"Can't keep them clean enough I say. Hard to take care of - paint swirls show up too easily. Plus they're hot"
(The kids are getting really restless, and want down, we let them.)
He looks through the computer inventory some more. "Oh, Um, let me check with my manager. I'll be right back."
(The kids begin fighting over who gets to sit in the salesman's now vacant chair so they can play "Office")
He comes back and we shoo the two very disappointed toddlers out of the way. (They go to an empty desk across the way and begin fighting over the chair there.)
"We just got some new inventory in, they're so new we don't have them entered in the system yet. Usually we're not allowed to sell them until we've had a chance to get them fully inventoried, but my manager says it will be OK." "We've sent someone out to the lot to check on what exactly we have, in the meantime can we check out your trade in?"
"Sure!" We head outside.
Our old car is immaculately clean, inside and out - even the engine was cleaned in anticipation of this moment. It's my turn to be the salesman. "The car has been serviced regularly in keeping with the suggested schedule in the owners manual." "All of the major servicing has been done by the dealer" I continue, "And as you can see there are very few surface blemishes."
"How about the brakes?" He asks.
"Less than half worn" I say. "The next thing it will need is tires"
As if he didn't hear what I just said he asks "What does the car need?" "Say your grandmother was going to by this car, what would you warn her about?"
"The tires are going to need replaced" He walks over and checks the tires - They still have some tread left.
"Are you sure that's all?"
"Yes." "I have the service records if you'd like to see them." I move to the car, open the door and start to open the glove box.
"Uh, no. . . That's OK" he says. I start to wonder if he wants the car for a child or perhaps himself. . . .
Another salesman comes up and says something to our salesman. "Shall we head back to my desk?"
"Ah, so you found one like I want then!" I say, feeling a little excitement building . . .
"No", "But I bet you haven't considered this color - it's brand new" We reach his desk and he shows me the new color in a brochure.
He was right there, it was a brand new color and I hadn't considered it.
"I'll have to see it." I say . . . He goes to get someone to bring the car into the service bay where we can get a good look. By now it's gotten dark, and the dealership has been officially closed for quite a while.
(The secret weapons are really making a fuss now. They are tired, hungry, and bored - they are fighting, whining, and generally being a pain in the butt. We are non-plussed.)
The car is brought in so we take a look. It looks awesome! "These lights make it hard to see the true color of the car" I say . .
The salesman lets out a sigh and seems to shrink in size a bit, but otherwise stoically continues his sell . ..
"These lights are more natural than most indoor lighting because we deliver a lot of cars to their new owners in here."
"Oh, OK . . . Let me take a closer look" It is totally what I wanted, well except for the color change . . .
"What do you think?"
"I think we can talk about terms on this one" I reply" He looks elated.
Back to the desk - the kids are just about to implode they are so done with this whole process . . .
"We can give you [really good price] for your trade."
Of course I say "That's all?" But my grin tells him I know it's a good price, so I don't pursue that any more.
"Now let me show you some of our financing options" I cut him off. "We're pre-approved with our bank."
"But I bet they didn't give you 1.9%!" He was right - I said, "Tell me more!"
We decide to use their financing - the kids are having a melt down on the floor.
"OK so the price is [sticker price], - your trade that's going to leave [ridiculous amount]"
"Nope - how about [dealer cost]?" He turns white. . .
"Sir, are you joking?"
"Not really." "We expect to have to go up from dealer cost, but it's a place to start isn't it" Now he's blushing and seems to be quite rattled. He keeps turning his attention to our darling little negotiation aids who are just this side of going into full tantrums.
He turns back to me and says "You realize we have to make some money on this deal." "Or we would go out of business."
"Yes - So knowing that there are likely manufacturer incentives and such, if we offer you [$500.00 over dealer cost] would that be enough?"
Again turning his attention back from our beautiful toddling distractions he says "Um, no." I can only go as low as [$500.00 more than my offer]"
I hem an haw a bit. I Look at my wife, but ignore the screaming, crying, kicking, and downright obnoxious pair of darling children having meltdowns just a few feet away. The desperate,- pleading really - look on his face told me this was the best he could do.
"I think we've reached a deal we can live with." I'm grinning from ear to ear as we shake on it.
Just then my wife pulls out the $500.00 auto-show coupon from the manufacturer,and handing it to the aghast salesman she says "Oh, take this off that bottom line would you please"? (I love her!)
"But you didn't tell me you had one of those!" he manages to stammer through his shock . . .
"It says right here - 'Take $500.00 off your best deal.'" You didn't think we would use this before we were sure we had gotten our best deal, do you?" she said sweetly. (I really love this woman - did I mention that?)
"OK, fine!" "Whatever!" "Yes" "Let's get this written up so we can all go home." (The secret weapons have worn themselves out, and crawl up into our laps and fall asleep. Perfect timing!)

Appreciating What We Have Before it's Lost

My wife has been laid up now for several weeks, having undergone ankle surgery to repair an injury to cartilage in the joint. The recovery for this surgery requires no weight bearing whatsoever! In lieu of crutches, she has a scooter-like cart on which she kneels with her bad leg, pushing with the good. Unfortunately the cart is heavy so she can not negotiate stairs on her own - someone must carry the cart for her.

This means she can not get to her car alone to drive anywhere. So I do all the driving: Our daughter to school and ballet, and she to the doctor and PT.

But it's been much more eye opening at home. Take cooking for example. So far I've managed not to poison anyone, but it's a lot harder than my wife makes it look. I just can't seem to get everything ready to eat at the same time. With her excellent direction though, my brother and I, acting as sous chefs, managed to produce a full menu for Thanksgiving Dinner - It was actually fun, but it also really hammered home how hard my wife works to put meals on our table.

Oh, and don't even get me started on laundry! Apparently I'm way to practical/stingy to properly separate the dirty laundry. I end up with too few loads every time. Thank goodness the kids have stepped up to help with that chore. Mom manages to sort out all the loads, and the kids (and even I, sometimes) manage to keep them moving from washer to dryer to hangers/baskets. . .

If I can stay awake long enough to do it, I must remember to give my wife an especially appreciative hug tonight.

I really love - and appreciate - that woman!

Happy Thanksgiving!

We just wrapped up our big holiday meal after a couple of very busy prep days and everything is right with the world! Our bellies are full, naps are underway, and visits with family were fun and over too soon.

We are truly blessed, and have much to be thankful for.

Here's hoping you can say the same!