finding that brilliant idea…

Some days I feel like I have a tattoo on my forehead that says, “Please, tell me ALL of your problems.” Don’t get me wrong - family, friends, co-workers, I’ll listen to your problems as long as you need me to or at least I think I would. I haven’t found a breaking point yet for people that I know and am close to and all of you I’m sure know that. BUT if you are a gas station attendant, I just want to pay for my gas and leave.

Earlier this week I was standing in line at a gas station in Plainfield. There was a woman at the counter purchasing a large number of lottery tickets so the man in line immediately in front of me begins to espouse his view on how the lottery should be abolished because it only makes poor people poorer and if he had been elected .. and the problem with our government .. Five minute rant from this guy while the lady calmly buys her lottery tickets, shoots him a diry look, and then walks out the door to spend the eveing with her favorite nickel scratching lottery tickets with her cat curled up on the arm of her chair. So Mr. Failed Politician gets to the counter and procedes to give the same rant to the cashier - all five tedious minutes while he pays for his $.89 fountain drink.

Finally. He heads out the door ,and I step up to the cashier, hold out my card and say, “I’dliketoprepaytwentyonpumpfour.Thanks” She’s made a quarter turn and is staring out the window at the parking lot ignoring the offered card. Mr. Government Problems has been pile-driving one of her nerve endings. There’s a single tear standing in the corner of her eye; it hasn’t yet reached critical mass and started to roll down her cheek. At this point, her facial tattoo is reading, “I need an outlet. Nobody’s behind you in line. You’re it.”

She proceeds to tell me how it is her son’s eighth birthday, and she doesn’t even know where he is living because of the government. She was abused by her husband and because of the court system, she could not get custody of her son when she finally did get away from the man because she had been hospitalized for a nervous breakdown.

So five minutes later, I’m still holding my card poised in mid air above the counter. A little dazed from everything this complete stranger has unloaded on me and all I can say is, “I’m sorry to hear that.” It was as if I just hit the play button again and the world resumed. “Which pump was that again?” “Four” ..

As I walked out the door to go pump my gas and resume my hour long commute, I started thinking. Am I weird for having listened to all of that in complete, attentive silence? Are all of the people who would have cut her off and said, “look I just need to pay for my gas,” the ones who are weird? If it had been another day would I have been one of those people?

It’s weird how just paying for gas could have triggered such a strong introspective moment. People broadcast their thoughts and feelings through their facial expressions and mannerisms, and it seems like most people either ignore them or use them as warning signals rather than invitations. For some people, their feelings come through as if tattooed or even branded on their face while others may only seem to be wearing a light coat of makeup and are much harder to notice. There are also times when we consciously put on “poker faces” to protect ourselves or others.

When I started writing this post, it was intended to be more of a rant about inappropriate conversations but as I kept writing, I began to see this experience in a different and far more positive light.  Facial expression is one of the most brilliant things about human beings if we only take the time to pay attention.

- jay a. moore

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Over the weekend, I went to Victory Days, a step back in time to the mid-40s. It was truly impressive the lengths to which the reenactors were willing to go to realistically depict the era. The event featured everything from a front-line skirmish between U.S. and German troops, a fully-functional mess tent which fed the reenactors for three days, a field hospital, a small German encampment, a nod in the direction of the Japanese, and of course, the warbirds. Check out my shutterfly page for more pictures.

Victory Days 2008 Photo Album

I went with a friend from my last job who is somewhat of a WWII buff. He and I listened to a German reenactor talk about his MG-42 machine gun for about half an hour. It was interesting to see how some of the reenactors tried to stay in character while others just wanted to educate the spectators as much as possible. Mark sat on the ground under the “Memphis Bell” for almost an hour listening to a veteran tell stories about his experiences as the belly gunner in a B-17 Flying Fortress just like the Belle.

My favorite part of the show was the row of seven P-51 Mustangs. To have that many rare, operational P-51s in one place was unbelievable. Well worth the $20 at the gate. It was a very worth-while trip, and I highly recommend going if the show is within a reasonable driving distance.

- jay a. moore

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I was annoyed by Wendy’s this evening. I’m sitting there eating my spicy chicken sandwich and there on the sack it says “X^y - We figured out that there are 256 possible combinations to enjoy your hamburger. Luckily someone was paying attention in Math class.” or something very close to that. It’s been a while since Calculus class, but I knew that formula was just wrong. To figure out combinations, you have to use factorials and summations. “X^y” was not going to work to get you that answer. I don’t know why but it made me want to smack someone in their marketing department. Here is the equation I would have been expecting:

(http://www.physicsforums.com/showthread.php?t=83309 and

http://www.themathpage.com/aprecalc/permutations-combinations-2.htm)

OK. Yes, I did have to look up the exact equation – like I said it’s been a while since I did any calculus. I did not realize that the summation to figure out this particular problem simplified to 2ⁿ. I can now see where Wendy’s got “X^y” but 2 is NOT a variable. From a purely mathematical standpoint, I still want to smack someone in their marketing department. If you’re going to tell your consumers you used some big math to figure something out, use the big impressive equation; don’t simplify 2ⁿ incorrectly. Yes, Wendy’s shorthand does convey that they used some kind of an equation to figure out the answer, and X^y does relate better to Jane and John Q. Public than 2ⁿ. BUT I would still argue that if you are going to provide a precise answer, then you should provide a precise formula. An exact answer equaling an ambiguous variable constitutes an unbalanced equation and at least one annoyed customer. Smack!

Wendy’s Marketing Department ≠ Brilliant

And that’s my final answer. I feel better now.

- jay a. moore

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I once took a Literature and Culture course that discussed the sublime. According to dictionary.com, the sublime is “impressing the mind with a sense of grandeur or power; inspiring awe.” In the class, we discussed how the sublime was typically something vast and even frightening; this concept of the sublime comes from Edmund Burke in the Eighteenth Century.  Most of the imagery associated with this topic depicted mountain ranges and oceans. In the different periods of literature and culture, i.e, Romantic, Post-Romantic, Neo-classical, Modern, etc. there are different perceptions of what it means to be sublime.

My personal take on sublime is more of a Realist view. The Realism movement in the Ninteenth Century emphasized the importance of the “every-day” and how it can be just as powerful as the extraordinary. Every morning on the way in to my office, I get to see the sunrise. (image above taken on my camera phone a couple of days ago) It has been a long time since I appreciated just how awe-inspiring the sunrise could be.

Oddly enough the cross section of the sublime, realism, and sunrise reminds me of my two great-uncles. I was discussing literature with my Uncle Jim once - my personal tendencies are toward SciFi and fantasy. Hemingway was one of his favorites so he tended toward the more realistic. He once told me that if I wanted to write, I should write about my family because there were enough interesting aspects within that one topic to keep a writer occupied for a lifetime. While I don’t disagree with that assesment, I still feel an affinity for wizards and dragons.

His brother, my Uncle Phil, lives in Hilton Head. He is equally as insightful as his brother was but in a less bookish sort of way. I went on a family vacation to his home several years ago with my dad and my two brothers. I am not typically an early riser so I stayed up all night to watch the sunrise over the ocean.

Wise uncles and sublime sunrises - both brilliant in my opinion.

- jay a. moore

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