In the Starbucks this morning before the Tufte seminar (more about which tomorrow), I performed an impromptu duet with a fellow coffee drinker, as we switched ends of the table where the cream and sugar is.* She was very carefully adding half & half and sugar, tasting, pouring a bit out, adding more cream. As she did this, she slid from one end of the table to another, leaving me to exchange my place with her as I inched ever closer to the milk.

Looking at me and said half-dramatically, “if I don’t get this right now, my entire day might be ruined!”

I agreed. “It’s better to do it right now, and have the best day possible.”

*What is the actual name of this table? I’m at my wit’s end.

I don’t know what possessed me to walk through the common this afternoon with the thermometer in the single digits and a strong breeze. I managed to time it just right that I’d be walking west into the setting sun; instead of seeing the park, it was more of a feeling and hearing experience as I stumbled toward what was to be an excellent dinner.

We’ve been watching old episodes of MacGyver on DVD. I really remember them being a lot better as a kid, but they’re still charming in their own way. All the 80s hair and shoulderpads!

It’s not just the fashion that’s changed, however. Tonight’s episodes had our hero Angus MacGyver sneaking into Afghanistan to retrieve a spy satellite before it got into the hands of the soviets, and had a bright young computer hacker who was being chased by some bad guys and by the federal government. The standard “you can’t come in here without a warrant” and “what charges would you arrest me on?” conversations struck me as outdated as the clunky electronics in the episode. It’s one bit of progress I can do without.

I was also amazed at how low security “high security” prisons in North Africa are, and (as usual) how much every country manages to look like Southern California.

Nothing terribly special about today; chopping wood and carrying water as it were.

An unexpected benefit of washing my laundry in cold water is that when I leave my lip balm in my pocket, it comes out good as new instead of melted all over everything.

Today is about my dad. Since I was 3, he’s been working at the same company. I have maybe one or two memories of him before that; a young man (younger than me now!) with crazy, shaggy hair, smiling and laughing. But since then he’s been a company man, putting food on our table, a bacon-bringer extraordinaire.

Over the years, the dress code has shifted from suit-and-tie to shirt-and-tie. He’s had a lot of different positions, and even got a chance to work in Asia for a few years. I know that at times he’s enjoyed his job and other times really hasn’t. But for 27 years, good or bad, he did it, and did it well.

Today is about my dad, because today is his last day of work; he’s retiring. I called him for the last time at his office and wished him well. I don’t know what he’s going to to do, and I’m not sure he knows, but he’s earned a while to think about it. As always there’s grass to be cut, action movies to be watched. Those won’t go away. But he’ll get bored eventually, despite the magical powers of yard work, and will find something to do, something that’s truly satisfying to him. I can’t wait to see what that is.

Congratulations, dad.

I booted up Virtual PC to check IE’s rendering of a site I’ve been working on, and I was greeted with this:

Somehow my virtual boot file was corrupted! The only solution is a virtual flatten and reinstall; delete the file and reinstall. I can only laugh.

My legs are more than happy to remind me that I haven’t been on my bike since Novemember. Nevertheless I swaddled up and rode down to Davis Square to have lunch with the network guru Bruce Hoppe, and then to Harvard Square to run a few errands. At the Door Store, I put in an order for a custom-built butcherblock fuzukue, a low desk, used sitting on the floor. I am fortunate to have access to a place that does quality bespoke furniture.

This afternoon as I was slowly walking to the grocery store — my legs refused to pedal — I listened to a fascinating interview with musician and calligrapher Stephen Addiss. Most memorable for me was his discussion of view calligraphy like a dance; looking at the paper, one can re-create in time the motions that the calligrapher made to create the image. A slow deep stroke, a fast cut, a flashy swish. As befits his training, he used musical terms to describe it, which resonated strongly with me.

As I type, the teacup between me and my keyboard is still dancing, the potter’s skillful throwing endlessly recreated by my senses each time I see it.

On the subway today there was a man who alternated between talking to himself and writing on an advertisement with a pen. He’d talk, pull his pen from his pocket, scribble a bit, put the pen back in his pocket. Pen comes out, more scribbling, pen back in pocket. He was a dancer, and I was captivated.

I didn’t make out everything he wrote, but I did catch this near the end, before the subway stopped at Harvard Square:

Lawyers — orbit — you

Pen back in pocket. Pause. Pen out, scribble out “— you,” leaving:

Lawyers — orbit

Let me respectfully remind you,
Life and death are of supreme importance.
Time passes by swiftly and opportunity is lost.
Each of us should strive to awaken.
Awaken! Take heed, do not squander your life.

For those of you who use iChat, take a look at Chax, a plugin which takes care of all sorts of little nitpicks I have about the program. My highlights:

• Save and restore window positions for individual screen names
• Show status changes directly in the message window
• Disable the smiley button in text input lines
• Unread message notification in the dock

Oh, it’s free.

I’ll be attending a course on Presenting Data and Information by the legendary Edward Tufte at the end of the month. Very exciting! The Napoleon’s March poster has been on my walls for many years, reminding me both of how well data can be presented and of the real human cost of war.

I trust that everyone is having a sweet and proper Valentine’s Day. I am sick — though not lovesick — but seem to be recovering with extreme application of rest.

Yesterday’s meeting determined that Caesar has been adequately rendered to, and short of signing a few forms and writing a check to my accountant, I’m done until 2007.

Blizzard! It’s still snowing, and opting out of sledding our groceries back through snowdrifts (the streets are well plowed but the sidewalks not so much), we’re relying on the intrepid Chinese delivery man. The rest of the weekend has involved throwing together foods from what’s in the pantry, sleeping, coding, reading, watching movies and sitting. Gerunds ahoy!

Tomorrow I meet with the accountant to hopefully get this year’s taxes settled before the season further progresses. I’ve learned a bit from my experiences last year and carefully recorded my business expenses. I’m curious to see what the bottom line is.

Finally, I will share a gem of wisdom I ran across today: “Caps lock is cruise control for cool!” If you need to be cool, just hit caps lock and keep typing. You can’t go wrong, trust me.

My computer has been popping this message up every 30 minutes or so. I appreciate it.

If you cut every corner then its really not so bad,
everybody does it,
even mom and dad.
If nobody sees it then
nobody gets mad!

– Shary Bobbins, “The Simpsons”

The Valentine’s Day chocolate store love boat is sailing smoothly. Expecting to be working at a high stress level, I’m not. Somehow my body feels let down. Still there’s much to be done, and in between various activities, I’ve been thinking about shortcuts. We’ve all got a lot to do, a lot we want, and limited time and energy. So it may make sense that we’re looking to get things done faster, get there sooner.

Sometimes this makes sense. Working smarter is a great thing, and is something any person really ought to keep in their toolbox. Finding the best way to do something very often makes the work easier and faster, and if one is lucky, more pleasant. Yet there are a lot of instances in which the quickest route isn’t best. We end up at our destination without any understanding of where we are, and without any experience or enjoyment of how we got there.

I think that sometimes it’s good to take a longcut. A lot of the time there’s no hurry, and if each leg of the route is worthwhile in itself, then there’s no “wasted” time. I’m a process person, so I walk this road a lot of the time. Where I am right now, if I can’t enjoy where I am on the route to my goal, I don’t have any confidence that I’m going to be in a position to enjoy the destination when I arrive.

My eye is out for shortcuts, and when I observe them, I ask myself what they’re good for, what their purpose is, and whether the road they open up is the route I want to be on.