My frugal grandpa used to tell me not to skimp on good shoes. Bad shoes lead to tired feet which lead to not being able to get around and do things. He was an active man and took me out often. He always dressed up when we went out. He would put on his black leather shoes, which shone like his bald head.
While waiting for our burritos to be made the other day, me and a few co-workers stood around under the sun, outside of the Camper store on Prince Street and talked about shoes. Apparently some folks really know their feet and shoes. One person named a couple of muscles in Latin, talked about the incline of paved roads and sidewalks. I was hungry.
I don’t think there’s anything particularly strange about my feet. Then again, only two years ago did I find out that my one leg is longer than the other (which leg and how much longer? I don’t know). There might be something abnormal about my feet, but as of today, all I know is that my feet are on the wide side. Too wide for Converses and them pretty skinny shoes. What I’m wearing these days: a pair of gray Vans.
I spent some hours padding my resume. It’s strange to see your life laid out cold on a page. There are all these tricks the resume people teach you to account for the gaps. I had a good amount of gaps. I figured instead of fudging them I should make the gaps a selling point. I’d tell interviewers to judge my employment history like a piece of music. It’s all about the space between the jobs.
We measure ourselves around revenue and profits and financial metrics that perform long after a spark is gone. You have this funny feedback mechanism in which you’re getting the results from something that happened a while ago. Maybe the thing that generates all the revenue was a great idea that happened in a dorm room. There’s a lot of stuff that’s gone on since then, but do you know whether you’ve had another spark?
…think like a penis enlargement spammer and you can talk about the London 2012 Olympics all you want.
Life without an iPhone means life without Instagram, one of my favorite apps for sharing pictures. A few things I would’ve posted on Instagram in the past couple of days, imprinted in my mind and now shared with words:
I’m reading Andrew Weil’s Eight Weeks to Optimum Health. Some notes from the first week’s “program”:
The first programming language I learned was Scheme (http://plt-scheme.org/), in a class called CS212 at Cornell, where you can graduate with a CS degree without being fluent in any particular language (I’m a proof of it). I took one semester learning Java, thinking that I need a real language under my belt for the Real World. I hated it. That’s when I knew I was not fit to be a programmer, and decided that I should switch course to get a degree in literature. Turned out that while I have plenty of love for the English language, I have no talent for it. So I took a couple more CS courses, got a graduation receipt, and fled Ithaca.
I can’t wait till Friday to see all the good stuff that comes out of our very first Hack Week.