Bob Space

My middle years seem to be taken up with resolving unfinished business from my youth: getting my bachelors degree, mastering model rocketry, watching Carl Sagan’s Cosmos from start to finish. The next one: getting physically fit.

(Oh, I had enough strength and stamina to do what needed doing. But I’ve never, ever been “objectively” fit. It’s far past time to correct that. And if I can’t do it on my own, right now, then what comes next doesn’t bear speculation.)

I’m not going to spam you with the details of what I will be doing, except to reassure you that it is:

• safe: I’ve seen my doctor and gotten a green light;
• progressive: it starts slow and builds at a reasonable tempo;
• about performance: the job is to meet the simple goals. Anything else that happens is gravy.
• scientific (of course!): the goals are based on age- and gender-appropriate norms derived from a long heritage of research.

I reworked the plan a little bit since the last Facebook post, making the endgame a little more reachable and leaving me room to keep climbing afterwards. But the resolution to not cut the hair remains. Yes, I need to get pictures going.

This is the first report of up to 33, chronicling events between 30 Aug 2010 and 11 Apr 2011.

Nasty blustery weekend is upon us. Good time to be indoors.
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The Lady and I will probably upgrade to smartphones in the near future. Our Nokia 6085 flipphones are starting to show signs of wear and tear — we actually had to trade phones because The Lady’s ringer was no longer sufficiently audible to her. A tech diagnosed it as the speaker wearing out … which wouldn’t surprise me, after four years.

So what smartphones are we getting?
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(You’ll have to read The Jeopardy! Book to get that one. Or ask me, but beware the tale is long and trivia-ridden.)
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I’ve always been fascinated by handheld radios. Wanted them when I was a kid (would have probably gotten), was insanely jealous of one neighbor’s “Space: 1999″ walkie-talkie commlocks. When I was a young adult, I bought a pair of 3-channel transceivers from Radio Shack. I only got to take them camping once, but they worked.

When I restarted the rocketry hobby and was trying to build a club, I had visions of the club operating a range, so I accumulated several of the best Family Radio Service (FRS) handhelds I could find. Now that I’m rescaling my activities, I have no need for so many radios.

All that as prelude to pointing out that my radio auction on eBay will close down soon. If you’re interested, bid.

So, what’s going to be filling my time (besides work, housework, yardwork, and sleep)?
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Work with the life you have, not with the life you wish you had.
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One of the few up-sides to letting my stuff get all cluttered up is that, when I do resolve how and what to clean, I make such interesting discoveries.

For example, today while I was preparing for [REDACTED], I found the misplaced materials for my “ASL University” self-study course. I really need to start making serious time for this, so that I can develop some level of competency at ASL before The Lady of the Manor loses her hearing completely.

I also found the original binder I put together when I started investigating “simple English” last year. I merged this with the new binder I put together this spring, keeping the best and dumping the dross.

I feel pretty good about where I’m going with my leisure time. I’ll have more to say on that over the next week or so.

I’m still trying to figure out what motivates me. I need to find something I can use to keep myself in gear. I’d much rather have all this internally driven than externally, even though I do well on deadlines and such.

Fine motor skills have always been a challenge for me. When I was 6 or 7, the doctor suggested a craft hobby with small parts that I could practice my dexterity on, and maybe give me practice in focused attention.

So my mom enrolled me in the Revell Young Model Builders Club. Enrolled us, really, since she had to decide which kits to accept and which kits to not. Yes, it was a “kit of the month” club. Hard to imagine in these days of “Bacon of the Month” clubs, isn’t it?

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