Signifying nothing

While I was waiting for the bus today at my place of employment one of the folks who works with me approached the stop too.  While I am technically her boss in terms of the relationship that our mutual institution applies to us, I am generally uncomfortable with such designations as I find them old-fashioned and rather counterproductive to the goals and purpose of the work we are doing.  I truly believe in shared governance, you see, and while I have a role of leadership in said organization, I prefer to allow input and feedback from those who work in that organization and who do the work that takes place there.  Yes, of course, I have to make managerial decisions, but I feel that the people who do the work should share in the governance of the place. She and I talked about her French class.  She commented that she found French a very difficult language to speak, and noted that was probably why the French drank so much coffee.  We both laughed at that.  T...

Float Like a Butterfly Originally uploaded by Theorris My travels took me to Louisville, Kentucky this week. Louisville is an unassuming city. Like most American cities it seems to strive for the gaudy and the fantastic, yet at the same time seems to want to maintain its simplicity, while trying to understand its past. The mighty Ohio river borders the city to the North, and my hotel was smashed up against its banks. Despite an unfortunate decision made decades ago to place a major highway along the banks of the Ohio, the simple quietness of that river overwhelms any human presence. I watched a coal barge saunter down river with nary a sound from my 16th floor hotel room. The passing traffic was no match for its silence as it carried tree branches the size of small houses across its muddy depths. My room looked out on Louisville, toward the river and, most prominently, the Muhammad Ali center, with its pixilated boxers who noisily float like butterflies and sting like b...

Kids these days Originally uploaded by Theorris My normal week-day walk usually takes me past a statue of Parley P. Pratt. The statue was erected in his honor to honor his contribution to local history (and place names), since he built the first more easily passable road into the the Salt Lake Valley through the Wasatch Mountains. His fame as a builder of roads is celebrated in the statue, rather than his scandal-tainted death in Arkansas (q.v.). To be fair, however, some see his death as martyrdom, and I would not wish to fan the flames of religious acrimony. Pratt was certainly a person of his times, and Mormonism was particularly controversial at that time. Of course no one deserves death for either their religious beliefs or for seemingly scandalous behavior with women in Arkansas. Whether Pratt deserves a statue, is certainly not up to debate for his proud descendants or for most people in Utah, it would seem. Statues certainly been erected for much much much worse huma...

Catkins in Early Spring Originally uploaded by Theorris My new house causes me to walk farther to reach the bus stop each morning. My walk, however, leads me past various interesting trees and plants. The other morning, I noticed that one of my gnarly favorites had set its catkins out. I stood, taking pictures of it, and nearly missed my bus. As the city flew by, I wrote the following: Cat paws on brown twigs, Warm against early spring wind, I forget my time

There is so much going on in this masterpiece of disaster that I have no idea where to begin, but as one witty YouTube commentator (a rare thing) put it: "This is a benind the scenes shot of Sarah Palin's brain." I love the Internet.

Well worth losing sleep over, after a very dicey start by the Jazz.