Randy, you're an inspiration to us all. May you rest in peace!
v
Thursday, July 31, 2008
RIP Mr. Pausch
Tomorrow will be the one-week anniversary of the death of Randy Pausch. I've written of Pausch several times before on this blog and how his parents let him literally draw and compute math equations on his bedroom walls when he was a youngster. I was struck by his parents' willingness to let their son literally use his wall as a canvas to scribble and draw about all that interested him. Pausch talked about this and other formative events in his life that enabled him to be able to confidently say that he had lived the life he had always dreamed of living.
Randy, you're an inspiration to us all. May you rest in peace!
v
Randy, you're an inspiration to us all. May you rest in peace!
v
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Living like you're on vacation
Ever noticed how when you're on vacation, you take on a new persona? You suddenly want to chat with strangers, find out where they're from, inquire about the next stop on their itinerary? Yet, when at home in the midst of the usual grind, you pass strangers on the street or at the coffee house in the morning and don't give them a second glance let alone engage them in coversation?
What if we could live like we were on vacation all the time? Talk to strangers and inquire about their day? Be genuinely interested in their response?
On my recent trip through the great peninsulas of Michigan, we were fortunate to stay at some great bed and breakfast's. In the intimate setting of these small inns, we were able to share breakfast with other travelers. Some were coming, some were going. All were interested in each other's stories. Where were we from? What stops did we most enjoy? Did we want a restaurant recommendation nearby?
What if we could engage strangers when back at home, waiting in line at the lunch joint or walking the dog just like we do when staying at a rustic inn while on holiday?
Having pondered this since my trip, I am going to try a little experiment during the next week. I am going to say hello to everyone with whom I can gain eye contact. I am going to ask them at least one question (besides how are you)? And I am going to see if I can replicate some of the good natured banter that always seems to take place in vacation mode. We'll see what the response is!
In the mean time, enjoy another pic from our U.P. adventure!
(Bill in front of the still operational Whitefish Point Lighthouse on Lake Superior)
What if we could live like we were on vacation all the time? Talk to strangers and inquire about their day? Be genuinely interested in their response?
On my recent trip through the great peninsulas of Michigan, we were fortunate to stay at some great bed and breakfast's. In the intimate setting of these small inns, we were able to share breakfast with other travelers. Some were coming, some were going. All were interested in each other's stories. Where were we from? What stops did we most enjoy? Did we want a restaurant recommendation nearby?
What if we could engage strangers when back at home, waiting in line at the lunch joint or walking the dog just like we do when staying at a rustic inn while on holiday?
Having pondered this since my trip, I am going to try a little experiment during the next week. I am going to say hello to everyone with whom I can gain eye contact. I am going to ask them at least one question (besides how are you)? And I am going to see if I can replicate some of the good natured banter that always seems to take place in vacation mode. We'll see what the response is!
In the mean time, enjoy another pic from our U.P. adventure!
(Bill in front of the still operational Whitefish Point Lighthouse on Lake Superior)
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Happy belated 4th of July!
I had meant to write a post around the fourth of July, but left for vacation right after and didn't have a chance. Now that it has been over a week since the fourth, the ideas I had for blog posts have left my head! But I think this cute snippet of my niece Elle that I found on my camera perfectly represents what the fourth of July means to me--freedom to celebrate any and everything with family and friends.
Thanks Elle!
Thanks Elle!
Deja vu at The Soo
During my recent road trip with the hubby to Michigan's Upper Peninsula, I had the chance to visit the Sault Ste. Marie Locks, a popular tourist attraction in the area. Sault Ste. Marie, or "The Soo" as many call it, is famous primarily for the Soo Locks. These locks make it possible for ships to travel from Lake Superior to the lower Great Lakes.
Per Wikipedia, the Soo Locks are the busiest in the world passing an average of 12,000 ships per year.The locks bypass the rapids of the St. Marys River where the water falls 7 meters (21 feet) from Lake Superior. Or as I heard one father recently explain to his young daughter, "the Locks are like a boat elevator." I couldn't have said it better!
Anyway, visitors to The Soo can watch ships go through the Locks via one of two observation platforms adjacent to the Locks. As I made my way to the platform to witness the first of several barges that would go through The Locks while we were in town, I had flashbacks to my early childhood when I was last at The Soo Locks. The year was 1984. I was six years old. I was missing a few teeth, and my parents were my best friends in the world.
A few things have changed since then. I now have all my teeth (thank God)! I just entered my third decade in this, the year 2008, and I have another best friend to throw into the mix, my husband of 10 months!
So I thought it might be fun to capture the "then" and "now." Check it out below (be sure to note similarity of attire)!
1984...
2008...
Per Wikipedia, the Soo Locks are the busiest in the world passing an average of 12,000 ships per year.The locks bypass the rapids of the St. Marys River where the water falls 7 meters (21 feet) from Lake Superior. Or as I heard one father recently explain to his young daughter, "the Locks are like a boat elevator." I couldn't have said it better!
Anyway, visitors to The Soo can watch ships go through the Locks via one of two observation platforms adjacent to the Locks. As I made my way to the platform to witness the first of several barges that would go through The Locks while we were in town, I had flashbacks to my early childhood when I was last at The Soo Locks. The year was 1984. I was six years old. I was missing a few teeth, and my parents were my best friends in the world.
A few things have changed since then. I now have all my teeth (thank God)! I just entered my third decade in this, the year 2008, and I have another best friend to throw into the mix, my husband of 10 months!
So I thought it might be fun to capture the "then" and "now." Check it out below (be sure to note similarity of attire)!
1984...
2008...
You actually might like it here (at least in the summer)!
Just got back from a needed vacation. The hubby and I spent a little less than a week in Michigan's Upper Peninsula touring what many rightfully refer to as "God's country." Some of the most beautiful landscapes awaited us as we took in much of the U.P. during our travels. I found myself surprised at how little I knew about this spectacular part of my home state.
The trip also provoked a lot of thought and fodder for upcoming blogs. So stay tuned for more!
But while on the trip, I found an interesting anecdote in a book I thumbed through while staying at the Laurium Manor Inn, a beautifully restored Victorian mansion that now serves as a bed and breakfast, in Laurium, Michigan (located on the Keweenaw Peninsula). Titled You Wouldn't Like It Here--A Guide to the REAL Upper Peninsula of Michigan, this short book humorously talks about the reasons not to like the harsh realities of life in the U.P.
The anecdote is as follows:
My friends, Johnny and Alice Penhale of Negaunee (in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula) took a trip around the world in their later years. On their world tour, the Penhales visited Catholic churches wherever they happened to be. In a church in Sidney Australia, they saw a white phone on the wall. A small sign said “Direct Line to God—calls $10,000.” A church in Budapest had a similar phone and sign, but this time the call cost $8,000. In Paris, the cost was $4,000. Finally, in New York City, a phone call direct to God cost $2,000. Upon returning home to Negaunee, John visited a local church to see what a phone call to God would cost. A sign proclaimed that such a call would cost 10 cents. John sought out the priest and asked why a call from Negaunee was only 10 cents when it cost so much more to call God from places overseas and cities in the United States. The priest smiled and said, “Because from here, it’s a local call.”
Michigan's Upper Peninsula--if you ever get the chance, check it out. It won't disappoint in the natural beauty that it offers!
(View from the summit of Brockway Mountain)
The trip also provoked a lot of thought and fodder for upcoming blogs. So stay tuned for more!
But while on the trip, I found an interesting anecdote in a book I thumbed through while staying at the Laurium Manor Inn, a beautifully restored Victorian mansion that now serves as a bed and breakfast, in Laurium, Michigan (located on the Keweenaw Peninsula). Titled You Wouldn't Like It Here--A Guide to the REAL Upper Peninsula of Michigan, this short book humorously talks about the reasons not to like the harsh realities of life in the U.P.
The anecdote is as follows:
My friends, Johnny and Alice Penhale of Negaunee (in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula) took a trip around the world in their later years. On their world tour, the Penhales visited Catholic churches wherever they happened to be. In a church in Sidney Australia, they saw a white phone on the wall. A small sign said “Direct Line to God—calls $10,000.” A church in Budapest had a similar phone and sign, but this time the call cost $8,000. In Paris, the cost was $4,000. Finally, in New York City, a phone call direct to God cost $2,000. Upon returning home to Negaunee, John visited a local church to see what a phone call to God would cost. A sign proclaimed that such a call would cost 10 cents. John sought out the priest and asked why a call from Negaunee was only 10 cents when it cost so much more to call God from places overseas and cities in the United States. The priest smiled and said, “Because from here, it’s a local call.”
Michigan's Upper Peninsula--if you ever get the chance, check it out. It won't disappoint in the natural beauty that it offers!
(View from the summit of Brockway Mountain)
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