Where/When
A watch, a calendar, a planner. These are the tools we use to keep us on track, on time, on schedule.
Where was I when that occurred? What did I do a week ago yesterday? When did I go there last? These are the questions we pose as we analyze our time expenditures.
Why do we do this? To document our existence, I suppose. To affirm our purpose. To justify our endeavors. To claim contributions. To identify patterns and behaviors.
I like to watch birds. They seem to flit about, here and there, from food source to food source, from nest to flight. How much might they laugh at us and our record keeping if they could observe and if they bothered to care about our human paper trail?
Sitting carefree aboard an anchored sailing tall ship near Istanbul, I wrote this:
Kaliakra: Wings—Sunday, 16 May 2010, 12:00 to 16:00
We are at anchor at the east end of Marmara Denizi where it meets Istanbul Bogazi, the Bosporus Strait, that flows between Istanbul’s two land masses, the European part and the Asian part. I count 52 other boats anchored here: freighters, tankers, container vessels, tugs, tall ships, sailboats. More are coming in.
The captain tells me that some shipping vessels are waiting for supplies or orders to their next destination.We will be here two days, until it is time for us leave for the Black Sea leg of this race.
A small seagull flies by. Sunlight silvers its wings. Its body reflects green tones from the sea. Its appearance is ethereal. Its flight is eternal. It has no time schedule. It needs no orders. It has attained its rite of passage.
And yet, for as much as I admire this gull and envy its freedom, I am human, engaged in the mélange of time management. To be human, I suppose, is to record our aims and accomplishments, to journal our progress and prowess, to diary our dreams and despairs.
Most of us, at least in the so-called civilized world, have our trophies. Some, we mount on walls or place atop mantles. Some, we merely record as though they were tax-reducing receipts. My trophies are of that nature, paper or electronic: presentation promos with my name on them, articles with my byline, kudos for having been there and done that – hopefully well. I display them on this web site: on the News and Events pages under this Where/When tab, in my trove of work under the What tab, in my books under the Store tab.
Yes, I want you to look at these. I’m human. I give and accept pats on the back. Imagine a bird attempting to do that.
Where was I when that occurred? What did I do a week ago yesterday? When did I go there last? These are the questions we pose as we analyze our time expenditures.
Why do we do this? To document our existence, I suppose. To affirm our purpose. To justify our endeavors. To claim contributions. To identify patterns and behaviors.
I like to watch birds. They seem to flit about, here and there, from food source to food source, from nest to flight. How much might they laugh at us and our record keeping if they could observe and if they bothered to care about our human paper trail?
Sitting carefree aboard an anchored sailing tall ship near Istanbul, I wrote this:
Kaliakra: Wings—Sunday, 16 May 2010, 12:00 to 16:00
We are at anchor at the east end of Marmara Denizi where it meets Istanbul Bogazi, the Bosporus Strait, that flows between Istanbul’s two land masses, the European part and the Asian part. I count 52 other boats anchored here: freighters, tankers, container vessels, tugs, tall ships, sailboats. More are coming in.
The captain tells me that some shipping vessels are waiting for supplies or orders to their next destination.We will be here two days, until it is time for us leave for the Black Sea leg of this race.
A small seagull flies by. Sunlight silvers its wings. Its body reflects green tones from the sea. Its appearance is ethereal. Its flight is eternal. It has no time schedule. It needs no orders. It has attained its rite of passage.
And yet, for as much as I admire this gull and envy its freedom, I am human, engaged in the mélange of time management. To be human, I suppose, is to record our aims and accomplishments, to journal our progress and prowess, to diary our dreams and despairs.
Most of us, at least in the so-called civilized world, have our trophies. Some, we mount on walls or place atop mantles. Some, we merely record as though they were tax-reducing receipts. My trophies are of that nature, paper or electronic: presentation promos with my name on them, articles with my byline, kudos for having been there and done that – hopefully well. I display them on this web site: on the News and Events pages under this Where/When tab, in my trove of work under the What tab, in my books under the Store tab.
Yes, I want you to look at these. I’m human. I give and accept pats on the back. Imagine a bird attempting to do that.
Tips for Writers and Speakers: where and when
Your initial audience may be local and immediate, but your extended audience could be international and in the future. For them, include the state, province, or region and country name (not abbreviated) as well as local information; include the year as well as the month and date.
When clipping articles, include the publication’s masthead, date, and issue/volume numbers.
When writing dates, spell out the month and use all four year digits. February 6, 2008 is precise. 02/06/08 or 02.06.08 can be misinterpreted.
Read all Tips for Writers and Speakers
________________________
Your initial audience may be local and immediate, but your extended audience could be international and in the future. For them, include the state, province, or region and country name (not abbreviated) as well as local information; include the year as well as the month and date.
When clipping articles, include the publication’s masthead, date, and issue/volume numbers.
When writing dates, spell out the month and use all four year digits. February 6, 2008 is precise. 02/06/08 or 02.06.08 can be misinterpreted.
Read all Tips for Writers and Speakers
________________________