evaluated

Posted on by August 31, 2013

 

1944-U_S_ troops almost buried by parcels do their best to handle that year_s holiday mail-A_2008-51The USPS is in the process of closing down our mail processing facility in Asheville.

It’s a cost saving measure.

Even after a big money renovation of the facility in Asheville, it is more effective to have our mail processed in Greenville, SC.

Apparently.

When we heard the news of the closing, we were surprised.  It didn’t make a lot of sense…but “ours is not to wonder why, ours is but to do or….”.  I guess.

Then we started thinking about it.  “This could work…”, we thought.  “Instead of getting our mail last, and having our outgoing mail picked up first because of the way the delivery schedule is set up…maybe now we’ll be first in line and have a better shot at getting our mail on time so we can get it ready to take to the street.”

Well….it turns out that they process it in Greenville…but then they drive it up to Asheville to distribute it.

So instead of being last in line to get our mail…now we’re last in line to get our mail but we get it an hour later because of the new route it takes before it gets to us.

Unless it’s a Wednesday….or a Thursday…or a Friday….or a Saturday.  Then it’s probably going to be two hours later because the truck that is supposed to get to us at 8:30 gets to us at 9:30.

The driver brings a late slip…and he gets paid for being held up at the distribution center so he doesn’t mind being late...he’s making more money…but it makes things interesting when he’s two hours later than when he originally brought us our mail…but still picks up the mail at the same time each evening.

Some of the schedule has changed…some stays the same.

This brings me to something called “evaluated time”.

At the Post Office, we have something called evaluated time.  It’s determined by a “mail count”.  We have periods when each piece of mail is counted, the numbers are put through a bunch of complicated computations, our mileage is considered…and then they come up with a figure that they use to evalutate how much we should be paid.

Of course, because there are a lot of variables in both mail volume and the experience of the person doing the counting (our past couple of counts were done by very competent…very nice… but completely inexperienced people…often it was the first time they’d ever done a count), the number they come up with can be questionable.

I got back to the PO yesterday, and our OIC (Officer in Charge…like a substitute Postmaster.  That’s what we’ve had for the last couple of years) told me that I’d gone over on my evaluated time.

We had the typical heavy volume Monday…so instead of using the allotted 7.40 hours I’m evaluated at, I used 7.86 hours.

So I got a red flag for the week.

That irritated me.  It kind of warped my “go along to get along” mindset.

We get paid the same every day. Some drivers drive like bats out of Hades to get paid for 9 hours and work 7 hours.  I tend to mosey…I want my Jeep to last a while. No matter how fast we go, we get paid the same evaluated amount.  Going over that evaluated amount still counts (somewhere) for some reason,though. I guess they don’t want to be reminded that sometimes the numbers don’t always mean much.

The only thing this really does is make me think that instead of signing in when I get to the office, I’m going to start signing in when I actually get my mail.  I’m going to charge them for any extra trips.  I’m going to be a lot more conscious of what I’m getting out of the deal and learn to protect myself.

What do they call this kind of post? A rant?

We don’t get overtime….so that can’t be the issue.  I wonder what it really is?

But if they’re going to cut my legs out from under me, the least I can do is let them see the stumps.

Did I mention that I am profoundly and sincerely thankful for my job? I like what I do…it’s just that some of the stuff that happens in a big organization that might be running a little scared is kind of weird.

you don’t want to know

Posted on by August 30, 2013

AdamandEveAdam and Eve had a pretty good thing going.

Think about it….they really did.

It was Paradise.  With a capital P.

And there was only one rule, really.  Just one.  That should be pretty easy to remember.

“Don’t eat from that tree.  Don’t eat from the tree of knowledge.”

I’m listening to an mp3 Bible that I downloaded from a link here.

It’s pretty familiar…fortunately, I grew up with the Bible…and, once I wade through all the killing and begetting, it’s pretty exciting.

This Adam and Eve thing is pretty bizarre, though.

God tells them, basically, “OK, here you go…I’m setting you up nicely, you’ve got everything you need, you should be just fine here.”

And it’s pretty nice for a while until an acquaintance…some snake up in a tree…tells Eve to just try this fruit and she’ll know as much as God and her eyes will be opened.

Wheeeeee.

And then the fun starts.  Welcome to the modern world.

People say that ignorance is bliss.

You have to wonder if it wasn’t so much a matter of God saying, after the fruit had been sampled and awareness came flooding over Adam and Eve, “OK….you’ve done it now…didn’t I tell you not to eat that?  Now it’s going to get really bad for you. I’m going to make things really bad for you.” but instead, maybe, “That’s really disappointing…but you’re not puppets…I gave you a choice…and now YOU KNOW.”

From something as simple as being naked in the world down to the worst of sins, now “you know”.

It’s no picnic in the Garden of Eden to have your eyes opened like that.

Maybe Hell is knowing?

The “Bible Scholars” would say that Hell is much more than that….”how naive a viewpoint” they’d think.

And I suppose there are a lot of levels to the situation.

I do wonder if the things that really bring us pain are the things we bring the most attention to. Until we were given the “gift/curse” of knowledge, we were oblivious to all but the gifts we were given.

God set this world up to be something better than just “good”…and until we made the mistake of having our eyes opened, that’s what we saw in the world.

We saw the good.

That probably is a pretty naïve and simplistic way of looking at the story of good and evil.

Evil already existed in the garden…(where’d that snake come from otherwise?)…but it was only at the moment when Adam and Eve only stopped looking for the good in their world that things fell apart for them.

To lose that ability to be unconsciously expectant of only good things is a real curse.

I know people who would say, “THAT AIN’T REAL!!!  THE WORLD’S A REAL PIECE OF CRAP!!! EVIL EVERYWHERE…ROBBING, KILLING, FAMINES, PESTILENCE…IT’S ALL GOING STRAIGHT DOWN TO THE FIERY PITS OF HELL!!!! AND IT’S BECAUSE ALL YOU PEOPLE ARE SINNNNNNERRRRRRRRSSSS!!!!”

Actually, I don’t think they know the word “pestilence”…so leave that one out.

Unfortunately, too, sometimes those guys are thumping on a Bible while they’re doing the yelling about how bad things are.

Some people really like to beat up a Bible.

What excites me, in spite of being fully aware of the bad in the world, is the possibility of something good.

We missed our shot at paradise….but we can make things better.

That’s something I really do believe.

 

pre

Posted on by August 29, 2013

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-nDDByubKfE

I plod.

I don’t think I’m a runner yet.

This guy was a runner.

I was thinking about being single-minded and how focus and natural ability and mental toughness can lead you to greatness.

Then I started thinking about something else.

Just kidding.

I have seen this movie “Prefontaine” a couple of times and it’s pretty good….seek out a movie called “Without Limits” if you can find it or have any interest in it.  It’s probably the better of the two movies that came out about the same time that told the Steve Prefontaine story.

This guy was like a rock star in the running community.

And from what I’ve heard, there were never any allegations of doping or any kind of performance enhancement…just a guy with a lot of ability and heart who loved to run.

There’s a hero for you.

 

 

 

 

 

how far?

Posted on by August 28, 2013

The_Long_Road_Ahead

I was running this morning and thinking.

I can’t disconnect the two activities completely.  If I’m breathing I’m thinking.

That doesn’t mean that if I’m running and I’m breathing hard that I’m thinking more than usual.

It doesn’t mean that I’m thinking any better than I usually do.

It just means that I’m always using my brain…if only at a rudimentary level.  (What did Einstein say about using 3% of our brain?  I don’t remember….)

Anyway, I was thinking about a lot of things this morning.

I was thinking about why meth heads always burn the insulation off copper wire at night and how stinky it is.

That was a temporary thing….I ran away from that thought.

That got me thinking about China spewing tons of pollution into the air and how it’s going to join with all the other pollution and how stinky it is.

I thought about where the skunk carcass went that used to be in the greasy spot in the road…and , even though the skunk is gone now, how stinky it still is.

And then I started thinking about the thing that carried me through the rest of the short run.

I thought, “How far would you go if you didn’t understand the concept of ‘far’? “.

What would limit us if we had no markers or defining measures?

It’s a weird thought, sort of.

Would I continue to run if I didn’t understand that the church was .8 miles up and .8 miles back and together it was about a mile and a half and that was a good distance to start out with and when I finished with that I would be able to stop?

Or that if I ran for half an hour…when I’m running a little longer than a mile and a half…that would be enough and I could stop when the time was up?

How far could I go if I didn’t understand that I was supposed to stop? If I hadn’t planned the finish before the race even started?

What would I do if I didn’t understand what time or an “average lifespan” or distance or “being practical” meant?

How far would I go if no one told me how far “too far” was?

It’s an interesting thought to wonder that.

We work for retirement.  At least most of the Postal workers I know do.  I don’t get the feeling that many of my co-workers consider their jobs a calling or a mission.

We push through something that’s “less” to get to something that’s bearable.

It’s the best job I’ve ever had.  I love the independence of the job.  I like driving the mail around.

Any complaining I do is really kind of crazy.  I have a pretty good thing going.

But a “good thing going” feels kind of cramped up sometimes.  It would be a good thing to be going one of these days.

I want to jump into the ocean while my knees are still up to the jumping.

This world is huge.  HUGE.

And, at the same time, small in some respects.

I wonder if I’ll ever be satisfied with not being able (yet) to experience it all?

 

 

harmonic balance

Posted on by August 27, 2013

harmonic balancerI love learning about cars.  I like driving cars. I like going places.

I love learning about cars when it’s on my terms.

The other day my Jeep broke down and I got to learn what a harmonic balancer does.

I’d never had a reason to really understand that part of an engine.

Sometimes, until something is really broken, it’s hard to pay any attention to it.

I listen to my cars like I could fend off disaster if I just pay close enough attention.  Every new squeak and rattle usually means that I need to figure out what’s broken or about to explode.

When the squeak at the front of the engine got louder, and eventually the pulley at the bottom of a whole bunch of pulleys finally came apart and started hitting the fan blades, I knew it was probably time to address the issue.

You don’t want to drive very far if something is making a death rattle against the metal fan blades.

Actually, you don’t want to drive at all.  You can’t drive.  You are dead in the water as far as vehicular locomotion goes.

So I ran the three miles to my house and got a different vehicle, finished the route, and came back to wait for the tow truck to drive it over to the garage that I had do the work.

The next morning, the mechanic started it up to see what was going on with it and the harmonic balancer fell apart in the garage’s parking lot.

It looked like this:

harmonic balancer brokenReally, it looked like that but more “spread out”.

I imagine the mechanic had to crawl under the car to get it.

This is a part that’s supposed to be one piece.

Two stout, round pieces of metal with rubber in-between that absorbs the vibration of the engine so everything doesn’t rattle apart.

When the rubber part fails and the parts start to break away from each other, the one can become two.

That’s a bad thing when a part designed to be one becomes two.

Anyway, long story short…the car is whole again after fixing the harmonic balancer and the water pump that got taken out as collateral damage when it all started to hit the fan.

Like a lot of things, it came on without a whole lot of warning.  Squeaks and rattles, wobbles that shouldn’t be wobbling, things that felt normal until I felt what normal really was after the repair had been done.

It is too easy to draw a spiritual metaphor out of all of this…so maybe I shouldn’t.

But you do have to wonder about things that seem to be all right…until they break.

You do have to wonder about things that are breaking in secret…middles falling apart until you just aren’t whole anymore and need to be fixed.

You have to wonder about a middle that no one can see…encased in a strong veneer and forgotten about….taken for granted until things become desperate and you start hearing the clanking of metal on metal.

I guess that sometimes you just have to wonder about some of these things.

hallelujah, I’m running slow

Posted on by August 25, 2013

This is why I run in the dark.

I’m less than a week into my renewed attempt to run again.

I’m slow…but I don’t stop.

That could be the title of a really great autobiography…

“I’m slow…but I don’t stop.”

I’ll have to remember that one.

Clear and cool this morning, roosters crowing, not many cars out at 5:30 AM ( I slept in this morning…usually it’s around 5 when I run)…it was a nice morning to be out.

banging on it all day long

Posted on by August 24, 2013

We went up to Asheville last night to pick our daughter up at school.

This was the middle of one of her PE classes…something about “rhythmic aerobics”.

Kidding…this is the drum circle that goes on in Asheville every Friday night during the summer.

Bunch of freaking hippies.

“Freaking hippies”….what do they call that? A synonym?

Asheville is an interesting place.  I think that it’s gotten a little more self-consciously “interesting” since it’s become more recognized as being a “hip refuge”.

I guess everyone is nostalgic for “what was” 20 years ago.

Everything changes.

The community we live in is pretty rural.  Most of the people here have lived here for a lot of years.

To them, Asheville is where the Devil lives.

It sure is colorful and lively, though.

Anyway….this is the drum circle.  You really can’t imagine how powerful it is to hear all those drums coming together…it’s a pretty loud synchronized noise.

It’s a good thing to be around all that life and enthusiasm.