Wednesday, May 31, 2006
A milestone, a mountain, a memorandum
This weekend I went to Colorado. The first days were saturated with preparing for, and then participating in an age-old tradition interpreted with a respect for the past and a flavor of the present---the rite of passage of a boy into the path that would solidify him into a man. My cousin's Bar Mitzvah started Friday night with a Service that welcomed the Sabbath, and the rest and peace and focus on the community reaching for God that brought. Sabbath morning we met again for more celebration and ceremony like steps of a dance (sometime literally) until the climax where my cousin was called down by his Hebrew name to read from the Torah---the much-revered scroll that was passed from generation to generation and hand to hand. The significance was striking---this was the Word of God, the first extant epistle from the Creator to the creature---more than just ink on paper, but a living letter of meanings and deeper meanings. Max then expounded on his passage--the first chapter of Bamidbar (I'd call it "Numbers") with clearness and originality of thought. Then there was more singing---an interesting, rhythmic style which made our four-part rendition of "I Sing the Mighty Power of God" sound stilted and stoic in comparison. By the time it was over, we had gone through the the prayer-book, back to front.
We then had more food than I could eat and topped it off with various desert dishes. The afternoon found us floating down a snow-melt river over a small waterfall--it was cold to stand in, but swimming in it was warming and demanded repetition.
Sunday some of us walked up Bear Peak---hills, up a wooded gorge, rock field, to the fractured peak jutting into the sky. Then we ran back down. Monday was a more leisurely stroll up to a water fall. Tuesday before heading back to Flatland we took another foray into the mountains, up to the remains of a hotel that burned almost a hundred years ago, and then to an overlook the gave us a view of the the Continental Divide---had there not been clouds gathering over the mountains. In the remains of the hotel was a fountain which not only sported a large snake, but a piece of galvanized pipe sticking up out of the rocks. It had been about a century since this pipe was installed, and not only was it not very rusted (due to climate) but I could have bought a modern pipe fitting at a hardware store and it would have fit perfectly---the NTP standard has not changed.
Today I was back at work, catching up, and enjoying the discussions about what the title of flagnotes should say since the memo about the new way they will be listed. I asked how it affected how the plane was put together--trying to be matter-of-fact, not sarcastic, and got the answer that what mattered was that there be a standard for the naming of flagnotes, not because it would change the final product. Back in the day they had a piece of plastic with lines on it, horizontal, vertical, and slanted, and your text on the drawing had to match the right set of lines. It is fun to see the world crystallized into a position of obsession with such impractical pointless machinations. Gives me something not to be. An edge, a lip to climb up from.
We then had more food than I could eat and topped it off with various desert dishes. The afternoon found us floating down a snow-melt river over a small waterfall--it was cold to stand in, but swimming in it was warming and demanded repetition.
Sunday some of us walked up Bear Peak---hills, up a wooded gorge, rock field, to the fractured peak jutting into the sky. Then we ran back down. Monday was a more leisurely stroll up to a water fall. Tuesday before heading back to Flatland we took another foray into the mountains, up to the remains of a hotel that burned almost a hundred years ago, and then to an overlook the gave us a view of the the Continental Divide---had there not been clouds gathering over the mountains. In the remains of the hotel was a fountain which not only sported a large snake, but a piece of galvanized pipe sticking up out of the rocks. It had been about a century since this pipe was installed, and not only was it not very rusted (due to climate) but I could have bought a modern pipe fitting at a hardware store and it would have fit perfectly---the NTP standard has not changed.
Today I was back at work, catching up, and enjoying the discussions about what the title of flagnotes should say since the memo about the new way they will be listed. I asked how it affected how the plane was put together--trying to be matter-of-fact, not sarcastic, and got the answer that what mattered was that there be a standard for the naming of flagnotes, not because it would change the final product. Back in the day they had a piece of plastic with lines on it, horizontal, vertical, and slanted, and your text on the drawing had to match the right set of lines. It is fun to see the world crystallized into a position of obsession with such impractical pointless machinations. Gives me something not to be. An edge, a lip to climb up from.
