Facebook daily dose

It's been almost three years that I actively participate into Facebook and enjoy the medium. It's true that among my 300 or so “friends,” only ten percent (if that) do ninety percent of the posting, but that's alright with me. That leaves the rest silent spectators (some might call them “voyeurs”) or those just ignoring what goes on inside that busy universe.

It keeps me in close touch with people I know and appreciate, plus gives me a forum of sorts when I feel strongly about an event, a cause or when I want to share something I care about with that community. It also stimulates my thinking, feeds my creativity and make my life that more interesting. In spite of all the negative comments that circulates about Facebook, I keep on liking it, must admit that my community of friend seems to use the tool responsibly and I find it as positive experience!

Leaving home

As we prepare to hit the road and leave Park City for a few days, I feel torn between the spirit of adventure and the ease and comfort available at our home-sweet-home. I can't believe it; I used to be able to leave on the spot to go places; I couldn't wait. Not anymore. I simply love my nest too much. I've become the home-buddy I use to despise.

Is it attachment to Park City and all the activities we love or the fact that our little abode is dialed-up that no other place in the world can offer a better experience? I can't really say, but not even the thought of moving to the Taj-Mahal can get me excited anymore!

The art of weeding

Year in, year out, we spend quite a bit of time weeding our garden. It's not like it rains too much, it's more because the weather is too dry in the summer and we don't water our lawn. The result is simple and predictable, as soon as our lawn turns temporarily yellow, weeds invade in large numbers and while I can't tell you the name of these pesky creatures with their long roots that suck up all water in sight, I can see them well. Last week, my wife convinced me that it was time to taking action and acting we did.

Kneeling on the ground and armed with one of the simplest garden tool tool ever created, we're prying these invading intruders out of existence, or at least we think we are! If you aren't yet into meditation, yoga or any other mind-stabilizing program, I recommend weeding. With it, time flies, any cerebral activity stops and very soon it's pure mental relaxation. Nirvana? I've not reached that stage yet, but I do reward myself with a cool beer, when my legs and back ache too much and when I consider that I'm done for the day...

Hollyhock season

You might call them weeds as they appear to behave like such in the way these flowers reproduced themselves, seem to grow totally carefree and appear to love Utah's high desert, dry weather. Since the beginning of the month our hollyhocks have been in full bloom with their flowers varying widely in their coloration from dark purple, to red and all the way to white.

We let them grow along our fence upon which I have engineered a clever way of retaining them in case of raging wind or sudden and violent rainstorm. That particular location is where they're allowed to reproduce with their large, flat coin-shaped seeds that seem to grow easily wherever they drop. I'm told that an individual plant might only live a handful of years, but by that time, chances are good it will leave plenty of offspring, so I'm not worried of running out of hollyhocks...

Innovation-obsessed

The bright spotlight recently focused on Steve Jobs is totally well-deserved and honors the few human beings that have stuck their neck out, creating products and concepts out of almost nothing, taking huge risks for the sake of churning up innovation we can all use and enjoy.

These bright individuals have been doing more than just managing or exceeding expectations: They've anticipated them, which isn't an easy task and requires an imagination, an inquisitive mind plus a careful observation and understanding of what's around us. They break tired paradigms by inventing new ones and like no others, they stand constantly into other people shoes! This type of folks whether they're Steve Jobs or Georges Salomon in the teeny-weeny ski industry, are constantly searching for what's hiding behind the future's blind corner and are creating the never-seen-before.

They are the antithesis of the mediocre people that surround us, starting with politicians and other “greedy,” exploitative and unimaginative business people that are in full reaction mode, all the time. Makes me say that the “creative” vanguard is the strict opposite of the “extractive” old-boys-club that rapes the earth. We all know too many of these forgettable human beings and for the good of humanity and a better tomorrow, we need a lot more of the visionary kind!

Climbing Chevran

In school, physical education always was a dreaded moment. I wasn't good at anything and was repeatedly told about it. I was clumsy, couldn't run fast, couldn't jump high and couldn't climb the rope. For the most part, my physical ed teachers made fun of me and predicted that I would become a big, fat, go-nowhere boy.

Even tough I had continually told my classmates that I was a pretty good skier (which wasn't even true,) I had a hard time fitting into that performance-obsessed boy world. That was until I was in my last year of high school that things turned around. Monsieur Deruaz, our teacher that year, took our group for a fast hike up to Mont Chevran, a small peak , elevation 3,849 feet, towering over the small industrial city of Cluses, France.

It normally took a couple of hours to climb the 2,300 feet vertical and pretty soon I grew wings and was in the head group, finding myself in the mountain environment I had been brought up in and was so found of. Eventually as the summit approached and the group was stretched far apart, I went up faster and faster, took the lead and before the teacher, became the first to reach the top. I had made my point and in the process showed myself that everything was indeed possible.

Back-to-school blue

Yesterday was back-to-school day all over Park City and I tried to remember how it felt to begin a new school year, sometimes get some new clothes, walk into stiff new shoes and show off a new notebook, a few pen and pencils. It was a sense of rebirth, of renewal and for me – who most of the time was a lackluster student – a providential opportunity for a second chance; a bit like a convict would feel as his sentence were suspended.

Even when I try hard, I can't think of much fear or worries crossing my mind on that day of new beginnings. My hopes were high, my intentions pure and surprisingly good; yet, generally that adrenaline surge petered out a week or so later. But as short as it lasted, that feeling of starting again was wonderful and I hardly could rediscover it when I began new jobs; by that time, my innocence was gone, my cynicism growing and my apprehensions omnipresent. Boy, do I regret these back to school days!