Just a Big Ol’ Mess O’ things

First, I think we’re winning the battle for the bedroom. Max is now sleeping most of the night in his own bed, in his own room, and after sharing a room for far too long, it’s a wonderful change. It was a necessary change-whenever we would come to bed, the noise and commotion would unsettle his sleep and sometimes wake him up. Plus, he’s all legs and arms now, and there’s just not enough room for him in our bed.  There’s still some room to improve. He wakes up once during the night (usually around 2am) and tries to storm his way into our bed again. K has been successfully wrestling him back into his bed, but it usually means she ends up there for the rest of the night. Unfortunately, Max’s bed is a futon that puts a kink in K’s back. And, the boy still wakes up to start his day between 5:15 and 6:45, depending on a million different factors, most of which are arcane and unknown. Maybe wind speed in the Sargasso Sea or disturbances in the Force, whatever the case, he wakes up and drags his mom downstairs with him, so she’s a little tired.

In the financial world, I make no money. So, we are about to tighten the old belts. Most likely, we’re going back to being a one car family. It’s been nice having the luxury of 2 car freedom, but realistically its a cost that we don’t need to incur. If somehow I start to make bundles of cash for writing/parenting (anyone want to pay me? Any one?) then we’ll think about 2 cars again, but for now it’s down to one buggy for the Loblaws.

A hearty pioneer shout out to my only Western reader, out there in the wilds of Manitoba (Hi Emily!). At this rate, by 2020 I’ll have enough blog followers to fill a room. Fame!

Musically: is it possible to enjoy “Let the good times roll” by the Cars in any way other than ironically? It’s the party song for people who have no idea how to throw or participate in a party (I always think of the party scene from ‘Revenge of the Nerds, before they all get high).

Certainty is a False Idol

Somehow, our modern culture has embraced and deified the concept of absolute certainty. It’s a notion that you should be able to expect a guarantee on any particular outcome, with no room for error. If the item or service someone pays for is not 100% as they anticipated it to be, no matter how realistic these expectations are, they run for lawyers and boycott campaigns.

This idolization of the concept of certainty is really evident in the business world. I’ll speak specifically about the software industry, since that’s what I have experience with, but I suspect it’s the same in every big business. Millions and millions of dollars, and thousands of man hours are poured into the relentless pursuit of improving the process and product until it achieves heavenly perfection. Entire systems of quantification and certification are invented in this chase for perfect, ITIL and ISO and score of other complicated acronyms, and the high priests of this religion are the quality assurance staff. In fact, their jobs have really shifted away from actually finding serious bugs in the product, to creating their own arcane manifesto on how to achieve perfection.

The punchline is that perfection is entirely outside of the realm of humanity’s capabilities, and what’s more important, the idea of perfection stifles actual progress. Human ingenuity is fueled by trial and error. Trying to avoid all error is avoiding adaptive reasoning and creativity. And by expecting everything you buy to work forever and do everything, consumers force manufacturers to focus on preventing liability.

I am not in any way advocating an abolition of all standards and practices, because I like things that don’t explode or are not coated in melamine. But, it’s time to be realistic in our goals and set ‘good enough’ targets for success, with an understanding that the creator and the consumer will work together to find solutions to any unforeseen issues.

Exile to the Sniffle Dimension!!

I must be brief for my time here is short. Soon, the mucusoid devils that rule the Sniffle dimension will return for me, dragging my poor immune system into their mire of goop, and robbing me of my higher reasoning (what little of it I possess). I warn all of you, gentle readers, of the march of the summer cold! It will overwhelm everyone you love! MY household, once so hale and hearty, is now a pit of runny noses, foggy heads, and sleepy grumps. Oh, nap time cannot arrive soon enough.