TIME FLIES

© Nance Thacker '90
click on image to enlarge 

Oh boy, this cartoon has me tripping down memory lane. Life was so simple back then, sigh. 

The "shoulds" that invade my space (when I have a "day to devote to art") like flies around s**t, still remain the same as back then with the addition of a bazillion others that were not even possibilities in my life in 1990. Today, when I have time to myself, I'm more likely to see what my friends (I mean real, actual, friends) are doing on facebook, Tweet, write this blog, check out my e-mail for messages from clients (somehow work creeps in there) and friends, figure out what the heck to do with Linkedin (work), attempt putting together my website (more work), muck about with garage band in the effort to make a CD or MP3 (yup, more work but with an element of play). So, if I was to add all those to the 3rd box in the panel above and the character would be obliterated by "stuff" to do. And, that's just how it feels lately, like I'm buried in housework and technology...

Excuse me, my Skype phone is ringing, I KID YOU NOT!...

...I'm back.

Well, I mistakenly punched up my e-mail instead of the Skype thingy. I quickly got out of it, but not before the little squares of messages began appearing on the bottom right of my screen, along with their cheery jingles - which is really what I was trying to get away from in the first place. I should explain, I'm in a Starbuck's as I write this. Sometimes I just have to stop being the "thing that lives at the bottom of the stairs" and come out for air, a latte and the sound of other living, breathing sorry Maya and Flippy and talking bipeds.

By the time I got to the Skype, there was no one there and I'm not up enough with technology to find out who, if anyone, was trying to reach me or if the Skype itself was just calling to say, "Hi, I'm here, don't forget about me." Hey, I'm sure this happens. Why, just the other night our phone called 911 - I SWEAR THIS IS TRUE, JUST ASK THE COP WHO SHOWED UP AT OUR FRONT DOOR AT 10PM. Seems they get 3 - 4 calls a day from lines that have shorted out or something. Anyway, that's another story...

You see how insidious this stuff is!

It's not that I don't like technology, just the opposite, I've discovered my inner computer geek waiting to get out. The other day, "Mad Mike" the computer guy, was showing me all the amazing things one could do with garage band on a Mac and I sat there in awe recalling all the time, steps, people and external stuff I once required to do similar stuff in animation in the mid '80's. And now, it's all contained within a portable device the size of a laptop. WOW!!!

Writing (using the computer) has taken the place of drawing for the moment. I wonder if, when I decide to do more cartoons, I'll even be sitting at a drawing board at all, or will the computer be the medium I choose? At this time I can't imagine forgoing the feel of the pencil in my hands, the flow of the ink on the page and the spontaneous dialogue that arises, changing the rough draft into something previously unimagined, in the time it takes to produce one panel. It all unfolded, gracefully, slowly, organically. What will happen when the speed of the computer comes into the mix?

Time. Time is the factor here. Life has sped up for us all, only us Boomers are more aware of it than the younger generations.

It's mind boggling to realize that there are actual adults walking around who were raised: always being connected to others with their own personal cel phone, who think nothing of posting their own video on youtube, who expose their bodies for all to see on facebook, who consider facebook connections as "actual friends", who will never know the joys of Sunday as a day of rest - no kidding, nothing was open at all - NO SHOPPING FOR ONE WHOLE DAY EVERY WEEK, YEAR IN YEAR OUT!!!

The amount of tasks I can do in ONE day would have been impossible in '90 due to: the car I didn't have back then, my cel phone, my computer and all the skills that allow me to: arrange appointments, gather info for free at the click of a mouse, correspond with family and friends, Google maps, and on and on...

Things are speeding up and that includes the way the brain processes information. Want proof? Got a problem with your computer? Consult a 6th grader. The more you work with this stuff the easier it becomes and not through conscious rational thought; something else is clicks in.

The computer is changing the even the way the world operates - look at how info is being disseminated regarding what's going on in the middle east; look at the wave of change sweeping through that area and so the world.

WOW!!!

What this all means for me personally is it's more important than ever to prioritize how I spend my time and discover what really recharges me. Which means that, sometimes, I just have to close up shop, turn the computer off, leave the cel phone at home gasp and walk away from it all.

BYE - gone fishin'

Wireless Wizard

It's only taken me a little over a week. But, I've finally done it! I have finally connected my... rather I should say - Rod's - Kindle, to the wireless.

The Kindle was a birthday gift that I purchased and gave to him well before his birthday, which is on the 16th of this month, because in all our 24 years together, I've never seen him soooo excited about any material item.

I bought it from the Kindle store online and it came the very next day (no need for express delivery).

I left the package, with a bright orange sticky note attached saying, "Whatever can this be?" on the steps leading upstairs so that he would see it as soon as he got in the front door that night. The excitement in the air was as thick as a 3year old's Christmas morning. "Thanks for my birthday present!" he said as he squeezed me tight and then the totally thrilled birthday boy bounded up the stairs to play with his new toy.

I got him exactly what he wished for; my gift-giving experience was truly joyful and I shouted back with a huge smile of utter satisfaction spread from ear to ear "you're welcome!"

A few hours later I went upstairs expecting to find him caught up in Kindle magic. Instead I found a grumpy guy aimlessly surfing the net; his new toy unceremoniously dumped into its delivery box.

He couldn't get it to connect to the wireless.

The letdown was as drastic as a 3 year-old finding his Christmas toy doesn't come with batteries and all the stores are closed.

"I'm not going to spend hours trying to set this thing up. It's not worth it. Send it back. And, if you don't I will. I don't have time for this s**t." He threw up his hands and glared at the tiny perfect object with disgust.

Through gritted teeth I replied in calm, measured tones, all the while counting to 10, "It's your birthday gift from me. I'm not sending it back. We'll get it to work, other people do. I'll handle it." As I stomped out of the room, I added, "Happy Birthday!"

We didn't talk much that night.

And, for the next few days he greeted me with, "Got that Kindle running, yet? How's it going? (referring to the Kindle)" all accompanied by a knowing smirk, so sure was he that I wouldn't succeed. He passed newly discovered numbers, letters and codes to routers, computers and modems scrawled on colourful sticky notes down to me as I worked in my office at the bottom of the stairs. He was attempting to speed the process along yet he was enjoying the fact that numerous hours of my life (not his) were being invested in this project.

"Nuts to this, from now on you're not getting any birthday gifts until your actual birthday." I took the Kindle out of his den and hid it so that it wouldn't tease him and he wouldn't taunt me any further.

It worked. He hasn't uttered a word about it since and it my work progressed without further input.

And after all my dead end searches, last Friday it took less than 5 minutes to get it connected after a phone consultation with an I T guy; referred to by a friend.

I begged him to just come over and help me set it up; better yet, set it up and let me watch, ask questions and make notes. But to my dismay he would have none of it. I couldn't get him to leave his office. However, acting like a translator of sorts he was able to "dumb down" his techno speak, tell me which questions needed to be answered in a stepwise manner, and ran me through the steps to reconfiguring ones' router and network.

What a difference it makes when you speak the language!

I left a message on his answering machine later that afternoon squealing with delight, "Oh my God I got it to work. I can't believe it. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." I may not be "King of the World" but I am a Wireless Wizard. Yessss!

Nance's A-1 tour

Nance Thacker copyright 1984
click on image to enlarge

It's an overcast day out here in beautiful Victoria B.C. Yesterday began the same way too, but while I was caught in the throws of a 3 hr. computer angst attack, the sun began to shine through the windows of SERIOUS CAFE in the Fairfield neighbourhood where I was enjoying a Chai Latte and beckoned me to come outside and play. (Isn't it amazing that one can experience angst AND enjoyment at the same time - I guess that explains the squirrelly dream I had last night, but that's another post.)

So I thought I'd take you on a tour of Victoria. Please push, crowd and shove as you board the virtual bus.

One summer when jobs were unavailable, yoga classes were drastically cut down, money was scarce, the studio above the laundry was hotter than hades and I was house-sitting, I spent most of my time on a beach like this at the base of the bluffs off of Dallas Rd., taking in the sun, tucked in behind driftwood that afforded both privacy and wind-break. Many impromptu "structures" were built by beach bums more inventive and industrious than I. On particularly blustery days when more cover was essential, I would "squat" in their structures while their occupants where elsewhere. It was an unspoken agreement that (though we acknowledged each other's presence with a smile and a nod, rarely were words exchanged) as long as one respected the territory of another, this was OK.

When I wasn't at the beach, like many of my beach "buddies", I was in the library - we may have been poor, but we were a well-educated lot. I particularly enjoyed this kinetic sculpture whose branches move slowly, windmill-like; a metallic tree turning in the wind. And, as I took this picture the haunting voice of a minstrel busker was carried on the light breeze filtering through the passageway. Victoria possesses many locations that afford the best acoustics for musicians and in this respect at least, is a buskers dream.

Will you please put your hand down!

Went to the MAC class tonight and found it much more interesting than the first one. I think the whole point is to follow along on your computer — duh.

So there I was happily tapping along with Dave our teacher as I explored all that could be done in Safari. Lots of great organizational ideas which I love as I do love to organize and put things into systems for some reason, just the same way I like bags and decorative boxes. Within no time I became mesmerized as I attempted to customize my toolbar, becoming deaf to his ongoing instructions. I didn't snap out of it until I realized that he was off and running on some other task.

It amazes me how unabashedly I can just admit before a room full of people that I am a total idiot who needs more assistance. As a teacher myself I realize that often people are too timid to ask what may seem to be a dumb question, but not me; I also realize that no question is too stupid to ask. For every person who speaks up there are always a few others in the class who have the same question.

For teachers who really don't like to teach I am your worst nightmare: I am the student who's hand shoots up like a nervous twitch; the one who makes you turn to address the other side of the room to avoid seeing this gesture; I'm the one who'll pursue the question til I understand the answer; I am the one who loves to learn. For Dave that meant there were a few times I had to say, "Nope, I still don't get it. I'll have to see you after class," (the prospect of which thrilled him no end, I'm sure). I said this, not because he was unwilling to take the time, but because I was - I knew he had territory to cover and I didn't want to risk being the object of a class lynching (there were a number of students quicker on the uptake than I - q'el surprise).

I have one more class next week. We'll be introduced to i-photo. Boy, do I have a lot of questions about that! Then I'm on my own. Well, not quite. It seems my friend's son (brave soul that he is) is going to rise up to the challenge (for a mutually acceptable fee) of being my MAC tutor.

I have promised to do heavy duty, intensive meditation in preparation for our sessions.

out in the ozone

Well, that didn't work. I just posted a blog somewhere - called Many Hats. It has a cartoon in it and I've written about the work that I do in my healing practice and how grateful I am for it.

So, if someone finds it out there can you please tell it to come home as it wasn't a bad little entry; I even have one fan on it, someone I don't know. It's like some kind of parallel universe. I was using Blogger and Picassa to get the scanned cartoon on to this site as all other efforts failed; it seemed to be working.

I've spent far too much time on this. It's almost 7:30p.m. and my stomach is growling and soon Rod will be too wondering what the heck I'm doing.

Will keep trying to sort this out. I just have to keep telling myself that this is all part of the learning process and reminding myself that I do love learning - I just want to be an expert at it.

I apologize for any spelling and grammar errors. I don't know yet how to check the document.