The Golden Spike

Yeah, you're going to see railroad terms around here for a while. The 'Golden Spike' was, well, read about that here. In the same vein, I'm joining some things with this post that were missing from my last one. Enjoy!

Q: There seems to be some missing paragraphs from your last post.

A: That isn't a question, but you're not wrong. Just about anyone who knows me will tell you that I have a predisposition to being moody and a bit introverted, so sharing the grinding bottom of the deepest depression I've ever known was more than I could do. I sort of hoped that jumping past the dribble and drama would say more about that section of seven hundred days than keeping it in could have in three hundred additional words. It was an 'administrative edit' and I'm standing by it. 

Q: So what were you doing?

A: Well. I went back to school for a while. And, as it turns out, I was so in love with being a student that many other areas of my life suffered. I went on to open a business, brilliantly during a recession, that really didn't go anywhere, so I worked at that great big 'click and get it shipped to you' company for a minute or two and then worked in traffic control. But most of these jobs simply reinforced my view on how technology is a bigger drain on humanity than its worth in most cases. But that didn't keep me from looking for a job in the tech sector. To be fair, I did have a few bites, but most didn't want to pay a wage that amounted to more than a hand full of dry cat turds a week; my specialties, it would seem, have simply been outsourced, off-shored or automated away. 

Q: What's the big deal? Doesn't everyone get sad sometimes?

A: That's two questions, but I see where your misunderstanding lies. I've observed that being depressed has very little to do with being sad at a root level. 'Sadness' is about being sullen, regretful and dramatic. Depression, on the other hand is more like looking down one's future and not seeing a way to avoid a very distasteful fate, even if you hide in the dark alone and avoid any sort of choice in the matter or continue on 'as-is' you feel like destiny will happen to you. And you may feel like that, given the summation on of your life's choices, you may deserve it to become reality. If you've been there, that makes sense, if not, you're blessed. 

Q: Trains?

A: Yes. The UP was a big deal in my younger years, although I was a tad too young to understand exactly why. And while much of what I do now only vaguely touches on several areas of my past, I feel quite at home doing it.

Q: So you don't 'nerd' anymore?

A: Dear Lord! What would ever give you that idea? I've refocused my priorities and adjusted the scope and scale of may things accordingly. Yeesh! Consider for starters, that as far as its apparent affects on the human body are concerned, social media and potato chips probably hold a similar rating. With that, wiggle in the postulation that lack of physical activity is tantamount to leaving an open door to mental illness - refactor, go touch some grass, do what works and shit can the rest. But yes. I still 'nerd'.

Q: What does that mean, exactly?

A: I've branched a bit and have been writing some science fiction. Maybe I'll test run some here some time...?

And that's a good night!

~ Z

Lo! I am Become Heavy Metal

"Yeah, she's a fat tub of shit," the man said, adjusting an old overhead fan attached to the bulkhead, pointing it directly at his face. Clearly, I would need to whittle my thousand questions down to less than five.

"General Electric?" I asked, ignoring the crudeness of his comment.

"Yeah," he replied without taking his eyes off the fan, his tone flat, as if the topic was mundane.

"Is it set up with the two-stage turbo on the intake?" My voice probably sounded eager, like a ten-year-old asking about their favorite toy at the factory. I tried not to betray the less than basic level of  knowledge I hold on diesel engines, but by some weird quirk I knew why they did this. 

"Well, I'm not exactly sure," he admitted, wiping sweat from his bulging neck with a red handkerchief, his voice carrying a note of uncertainty.

"And are the drives DC?" I continued, pressing on, feeling a growing curiosity.

"Yes," he confirmed.

"So, it's a variable frequency system and not an inverter. I would've thought a volts-per-hertz AC system would have had an efficiency edge."

"No, no, it's all DC. Most… well, all of the new power being laid out these days are," he said, his tone less annoyed than I had expected, almost as if he was relieved to talk about something familiar.

I nodded, realizing that this was about more than just efficiency. "The game is, among other practical factors, about needing to hold constant torque at times," I mused aloud accidentally.

"You an engineer?" he asked, finally turning his attention away from the fan.

There it was again: "engineer." A term thrown around so easily these days, yet one of the most misunderstood and overused titles in modern English.

I giggled for a second, shook my head and let my self out of the cab and down the ‘armor yellow’ rail of the locomotive to ladder #2 and back to reality.

I have worked very hard to over the past few years to ground myself in a reality that builds on my strengths and omits the mistakes I’ve held over myself for, well, longer than I care to disclose. But an undeniable part of that reality is that I have been and engineer in one capacity or another more than a hand full of times. And in those positions, when I wasn’t getting pissed off and walking away from them, I learned that while I liked writing software, designing motion control systems, hydraulic controls or automated gizmos of whatever kind, I loathed the industry as a whole. And I mean that in a quite literal sense; there are to this day, companies, products and services that left such a bad taste in my mouth that I flat refuse to patronize them in any manner. Not that I have an axe to grind, (well, once upon a time I did, but that’s another story) I just saw most of what that sector had to offer as helping humans, as a whole become ‘more supider’ for profit.

And of the formally trained engineers I’d been made to ‘play nice’ with, I would let exactly two of them mow my lawn and neither actually perform any service the mower itself. In no circumstance did I wish to count myself among them. Ever. 

But there was an axe to grind; one with myself for not loving the work enough or caring for the profit that it brought. For keeping that spark of idealism alive in the face of the realities that gravitate to us all as we grow and for not embracing a path to an easier life because it would have been boring and filled with annoying ass kissers, lot lizards and related sycophants.  And as time passed, I actually started to see intelligence as a sort of burden and for what I see now as some very shallow reasons. But opportunity has a way of fluttering a way when we don't feed it and seldom does it return to roost.

I applied for no less than three hundred jobs this year and when none bit, my darkness deepened. Nearly divorced and out of touch with every corner of reality, I would have done anything to get my foot out of the trap I’d crafted for myself. But sometimes one has to push on the sides of the box to make the people inside it remember that the world has greater bounds. Whether I was inside or out of that set up is certainly open to interpretation, but it seemed that the stubborn tenacity that I come by quite honestly would not be of any use in this round; I could wad it all up with my certs and resume and burn them while the world marched on in total indifference to my plight. 

Just after my wife’s birthday in May, I received a call from a long shot of a laborer position that I'd responded to and before long, I committed my summer to (literally) jumping hoops for a position with the railroad. Apparently, an essay that I'd written that leaned heavily on the fact that my great grandfather was a brakeman and conductor with Union Pacific after the depression and how I'd be honored to bring that heritage back full circle, turned some heads. Now I can say that after my personal depression, I am a brakeman and conductor for UP, that my baby grandson with have the UP shield on his little overalls and my wife and kids will be well taken care of no matter what the days to come have for us. 

And yes, one day soon I will be an engineer and finally the thought makes me giddy; I suppose I should have been wider in scope with that loose, over used moniker. 

昨日。今日。明日。即座に。永遠に。

Yesterday. Today. Tomorrow. Eternally. Instantly.

These are the words that come to mind when I am asked, by myself or anyone else about memories of my grandfather. It's been three years now since he left us, yet I know in my heart, he will never truly be gone. When I look at the better parts of myself, I see him. When I look out across a room filled with family, he is there. He's made sure that he will always be with us. That was his plan and out of all the great things that he was in life, being a good liar was not a skill he ever cared to master. I'll not make one of him now and I'll gladly challenge the person that tries, as far as they'd like to take the matter. People of less faith often speak of memory and experience as the definition of what it means to be mortal; the soul of the soul, if you will. Even when sterilized to such base terms, he is still very much here, now, with all of us, as planned.

I miss him so very, very much. I realize that this descriptor sounds very generic, but I have not the proper words to describe the sense of incompletion I drown in at times in his immediate absence. But when I ask myself what it is that so pine away for, my thoughts break. I've had a few dreams filled with his wisdom and love. I carry the marks of thoughtfulness and thoroughness he instilled on me. Everyday I endeavor to inch closer to being the well of patience that he was a shining example of. I've found that understanding 'why' is immeasurably more important than knowing 'how'. I've let my faith take me back to the place of peace and harmony that he always said it would be... still, something hides from me; maybe I hide from it. Instead of continuing to dance around it, I've written the following.


Dear Granddad,

Life has been well, as of late. I'm sure you know by now that I realize you were right about, well, everything. It's been a hard pill for me to swallow, even though I knew what had to be done. I also am well aware that you have no sympathy for that, but I can't help but feel like you get a kick out of the light bulb blinking on above my head. Maybe this was one of your favorite sports where I am concerned. In any event, things in life are starting to smooth out greatly. This is not to say that things are easy, because they are not, but each day, life gets better.

I guess just wanted to apologize for being such a prideful, hard headed kid. I've had to let go of that part of myself to make any kind of progress and, tell you the truth, it feels good. Frankly, they were skills that were misused. It's fine to be hard headed, if it means keeping a hold of your resolve and doing the best you can for a family you are proud of, and proud to do it. But you already knew that too. We all watched you do it and why I never got that lesson until now, I'll never be quite sure. Maybe I was a bit too spoiled, maybe I'm just a really late bloomer.

I know you didn't approve of much that I did as a young adult, but it seems you know me well enough to let me fall down far enough that I'd have to pick my self back up. It's my own foolishness that led us both to miscalculate exactly how far down that point actually was. I let a lot of people down in that fall and I know you're on the top of that list. I can't take any of it back, but I can do better.

Not many people know this, but when we rewired my brother's house, the time we spent working together was the first turning point in my life that I saw clearly. As we reworked the lighting circuit in the attic and you remarked that my workmanship had greatly improved, now that I was 'out in the wild'. I was glad you noticed. I was hoping that you would have. Later that day, we were discussing how to pull the new home run to the second floor bathroom and you asked me what my opinion was on how we should do it, I realized that for the first time in my life you genuinely wanted to know what I thought the best thing to do was. It wasn't a learning exercise, no seeing if I'd come up with what you already knew and it stands to this moment as the greatest compliment anyone has ever given me. I've let that kind of thinking and confidence lead my life these days and I realize, that was the lesson all along.

I could type all night of all that has happened since you've been gone, but I know you already know most of it. If you missed anything, just remember, I already admitted you were right. You always told me that I had so much potential, that I could do whatever I wanted in life and enjoy the rewards of it, as long as I am willing to do my part. The time for many of those opportunities may have passed by, yet  in leaving my foolishness behind, I've found that I am a good father, a devoted husband and man of more faith than I ever thought possible. Maybe I did choose the hardest of roads, but without the baggage, the view of the pass up ahead is beautiful. And underneath that crusty, opinionated drunk is the good, honest, hard working Mormon boy that I once was. And he still wants you to be proud of him, however rusty he is.

I'll see you as time goes by,

Zach B.

 

(originality posted Sept 9, 2013)

Number 13 Baby

I've been tasked with writing about some very personal things, by a third party that means very well. Fortunately, not much of that will make it into this arena. No, I am not going to apologize for leaving you all out of it. I am fairly candid when I write here, but some things are just too close. Besides, even if you really think you'd like to read about it, trust me, you don't. That said, Please don't think that what can be found here is trivial; I assure you, quite the opposite is true. They are dearly intimate, yet filtered as to not air dirty laundry or open any gaps where they don't belong. So to compromise while I work on some of these handy homework jobs, I though I might share the following.

The things that I am thankful for:

The people who inspire, care about and support me
Huckleberries
My ability to recognize errors in systems, including myself
My ability to love and cherish
The hard lessons that I have learned
Books
My hands that are actually my Grandfather's
My eyes that are my fathers
Blank sheets of paper
Forgiveness, even when it is hard won
My memory

It may seem silly to have list such as this, but truth be told, I carry this and things like it in my wallet and I review/revise them often. It's not that I forget any of these, but it seems that people have a need for physical reminders; they make thoughts real and solidify memory.

Another such device I carry with me, is a passage that I've come to accept as kind of a map to who and where I'd like to be as a person:

'We believe in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, virtuous and in doing good to all men; indeed we may say that we follow the admonition of Paul - We believe all things, we hope all things, we have endured many things, and hope to be able to endure all things. If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report, or praiseworthy, we seek after these things.'

What did you expect? The serenity prayer? Seriously, these words are a very Zen concept to me. In seeking these ideals and following that path, it isn't long before you can look around yourself and see the scenery along the way improve. I keep this in mind, especially during the hard times and sleepless nights.

(originality posted Dec 31, 2019)