Thanks to the Discovery Channel, most of us know the word describing animals that are active at night and rest in the daytime (like most bats, for example) -- it's "nocturnal". But is the word for being active in the day and resting at night on the tip of your tongue? It's "diurnal". Because I was a biologist once (a long, long time ago), it's a word I know well. But for most people, it's not a regular part of their vocabulary.
Why is that? It would seem that the word (diurnal) that describes our own mode of life would be more common to us than a word (nocturnal) that describes a foreign mode of life. The reason it's not, I submit, is that some things are almost too common to notice, remark upon, or even name. But those common things make up most of our life experience. The exceptions are memorable, but the common occurrences, sights, and experiences make up our definition of normal life.
"So how does this relate to layout design, operations … or really, to anything I care about, Byron?" you may ask. Simple. When we build a layout or design an ops session, I think it's easy to become focused-in on something unusual, something unique. Some amount of that defines the character of a prototype or a place, to be sure. But too much emphasis on the exceptional can give our layouts or op sessions an air of unreality.
This came to mind recently looking at Jim Boyd's photo of an Illinois Central E6 passing through Rockford, Ill. in June 1965 in the October 2007 issue of Railroad Model Craftsman (page 47). The subject of his photo is obvious, the relatively unusual (by that time) E6 on the point of the Land O' Corn. But there are a myriad of details in the rest of the photo that scream -- OK, whisper -- "reality". The longer I looked at the photo, the more these became obvious: signs hanging from storefronts; some windows open, some closed; access ladders; power poles; etc. While the rare E6 is interesting, the humdrum details make the photo look real.
If we were asked what we noticed about the photo, most of us would be hard-pressed to name a lot of these everyday elements -- they are so common we filter them out. But they are worth the extra effort to think about and include in a design or ops session. Layout Design SIG founder Doug Gurin and others speak of "modeling typicality", and that's excellent advice. And of course, it's possible to overdo these details into a cluttered mess that overpowers the viewer. The typical is not always easy to appreciate, or easy to capture, but its ubiquity makes it an important consideration.
An "eye for the usual" sounds like a contradiction in terms, but it's modeling the things that are "too common to model" that gives a scene life.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Friday, September 07, 2007
Preview of coming attractions
Friend Bart Thurber has already contributed substantially to my Oakland Harbor Belt layout. He's researched the locale and railroads that served it during many dusty hours in the Oakland Library's archives, joined me for study jaunts to see what's left of the prototype railroads in the area, and been a strong supporter of the concept.
But now he's really gone above and beyond … building his own version of a key element of the OHB. Alice Street Yard was the Santa Fe's outpost on Oakland's inner harbor, a pocket yard served only by car float from Richmond. (For more on Alice Street, refer to W.W. Childer's fine article in The Santa Fe Railway Historical & Modeling Society's Warbonnet, Third Quarter 2001.)
Bart's done a great job of squeezing an HO representation of Alice Street into a spare-bedroom-sized space. He was kind enough to invite me over to operate (or was it that I was there and invited myself to operate …). The layout is still in its early phases and Bart has yet to apply any of his fine modeling skills to the structures. Most of the industries are still mock-ups, but I had a very enjoyable time working the yard, team tracks, freight house and associated industries in response to the arrival of a couple of car floats (actually cars Bart interchanged by hand from storage drawers beneath the benchwork).
For a nearly-new layout, things ran well and we had only a couple of very minor hiccups. It was terrific fun actually operating for a change while Bart busied himself with the "hands-on" interchange and working the nearby SP tracks with another throttle. He's taken the time to add a coat of earth-colored paint and sprinkle a bit of ground cover. That, along with the industry mock-ups, was more than enough to put me in a fun railroadin' frame of mind.
Even better, I was essentially "test driving" a section of my own layout years before I will get to that phase of construction. During my planning, I've wondered if switching on my own depiction of the Alice Street Yard would be varied enough to hold an operator's interest. After this preview of coming attractions, I think it's going to be great. But, Bart, I might need to do some additional research … umm … maybe I'd better come by and operate some more …
Gavin DeGraw's 2003 album Chariot is a well-produced pop package. That description might put some people off, but I have enjoyed listening to it lately. Crisp but unpretentious guitar work by Michael Ward (Ben Harper, Shelby Lynne, Wallflowers) sets off DeGraw's vocals and keyboards while adding just a touch of Keith Richards-style bluesy greasiness to "Chemical Party" and a driving southern rock feel to "I Don't Want to Be". DeGraw's voice flows easily from a slightly gritty Black Crowes-esque vibe on the latter to a soulful strut on "(Nice to Meet You) Anyway". Yeah, the teens swooned for the "Chariot" video and know DeGraw from One Tree Hill, but I don't hold that against him.
But now he's really gone above and beyond … building his own version of a key element of the OHB. Alice Street Yard was the Santa Fe's outpost on Oakland's inner harbor, a pocket yard served only by car float from Richmond. (For more on Alice Street, refer to W.W. Childer's fine article in The Santa Fe Railway Historical & Modeling Society's Warbonnet, Third Quarter 2001.)
Bart's done a great job of squeezing an HO representation of Alice Street into a spare-bedroom-sized space. He was kind enough to invite me over to operate (or was it that I was there and invited myself to operate …). The layout is still in its early phases and Bart has yet to apply any of his fine modeling skills to the structures. Most of the industries are still mock-ups, but I had a very enjoyable time working the yard, team tracks, freight house and associated industries in response to the arrival of a couple of car floats (actually cars Bart interchanged by hand from storage drawers beneath the benchwork).
For a nearly-new layout, things ran well and we had only a couple of very minor hiccups. It was terrific fun actually operating for a change while Bart busied himself with the "hands-on" interchange and working the nearby SP tracks with another throttle. He's taken the time to add a coat of earth-colored paint and sprinkle a bit of ground cover. That, along with the industry mock-ups, was more than enough to put me in a fun railroadin' frame of mind.
Even better, I was essentially "test driving" a section of my own layout years before I will get to that phase of construction. During my planning, I've wondered if switching on my own depiction of the Alice Street Yard would be varied enough to hold an operator's interest. After this preview of coming attractions, I think it's going to be great. But, Bart, I might need to do some additional research … umm … maybe I'd better come by and operate some more …
Gavin DeGraw's 2003 album Chariot is a well-produced pop package. That description might put some people off, but I have enjoyed listening to it lately. Crisp but unpretentious guitar work by Michael Ward (Ben Harper, Shelby Lynne, Wallflowers) sets off DeGraw's vocals and keyboards while adding just a touch of Keith Richards-style bluesy greasiness to "Chemical Party" and a driving southern rock feel to "I Don't Want to Be". DeGraw's voice flows easily from a slightly gritty Black Crowes-esque vibe on the latter to a soulful strut on "(Nice to Meet You) Anyway". Yeah, the teens swooned for the "Chariot" video and know DeGraw from One Tree Hill, but I don't hold that against him.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
A pleasant surprise
I've written quite a bit in my life: marketing and business plans, technical documentation, ad copy, articles on technology, ghost-written book chapters, even the odd model railroading article. But it was a neat surprise to open my copy of Model Railroader's How to Build Realistic Layouts: Freight Yards special issue this week. Obviously, I knew what my article "A Baker's Dozen Yard Ideas" would include -- I wrote the text and prepared some of the rough illustrations. But Andy Sperandeo and the folks at Kalmbach matched up portions of the text with file photography and new illustrations that added a lot to the piece. It's rare that I write something and feel that the final result is significantly better or more engaging than what I submitted, but in this case, it surely was.The rest of the magazine is pretty interesting, too. I don't know if these special more-than-a-magazine-not-quite-a-book issues sell well from a marketing standpoint. But it was a real pleasure to see my work showcased in this one.
(Parenthetically, I have also been a bit surprised that a few folks don't seem to know that a "baker's dozen" is thirteen. When I was a kid, it was common for one additional donut or other baked treat to be included when a dozen of the same item was purchased (this carries on for donuts at our local purveyor). In this era of pre-packaged foods (and healthier eating!), perhaps it's not surprising that the phrase is less well-known. Interestingly, the baker's dozen seems to have originated in England out of a fear of penalties for selling a customer short.)
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Three sides to every story
I had a fun meeting with (hopefully) a future layout design client this week. He's getting close to finalizing a new layout space, excellent modeler, knows his prototype really well, has a clear vision of what he wants to accomplish. And that prototype is new to me, fairly unique with a lot of character. All in all, a project I am genuinely looking forward to.
Generally, I think he and I share the same overall concept and vision of the layout. But even so, we have significant differences of opinion on the inclusion of some scenes over others. (Needless to say, the client always has the final choice, although I try to make my case well in the discussion.)
It is always fascinating for me to see how two relatively knowledgeable people can take the same prototype, givens and 'druthers, etc. and distill different visions of a layout. Our vision for a layout design is influenced both by the way we see and by the way we visualize -- two words that seem the same but are mirror images of one another.
His vision comes out of many years spent studying and admiring the prototype and designing his own earlier successful layout. There are towns and scenes he wants because he wants them. More justification isn't possible -- or necessary. Those towns are the sine qua non* of the prototype and region to him. At the same time, from my outsider's perspective, there are different towns and scenes that hold a particular appeal because they communicate something especially unique about the prototype. Well, and OK, a couple of them just fit better in the space.
There are three sides to this story: the historical reality of the prototype -- where it went and what it did; my client's heartfelt vision and visceral understanding of the line; and my own inclination toward choosing scenes that tell a unique story of the prototype and era (and oh by the way, will fit!).
The creative tension between these "three sides" of the story will ultimately result in a better layout. And selfishly, the challenge and reward in coordinating these many different elements is what makes layout design so much fun for me.
* from the Latin: "Without which, not; an indispensable condition"
My musical listening has finally moved back into this century with Steve Morse's Major Impacts. Morse is an incredibly gifted guitarist, beginning with the Dixie Dregs, then his own solo career, with some time out as "hired gun" guitar slinger with later-day incarnations of Kansas and Deep Purple. (Those two gigs alone tell you something about his range.) Major Impacts is unique -- Morse plays his own original tunes written and performed in the style of his major influences. Thus, there's a song in the style of the Rolling Stones, the Byrds, etc. (not covers, but original compositions). In a couple of interesting cases, Morse links some performers together in a single tribute, such as Jeff Beck/Alex Lifeson (Rush)/Eric Johnson. Listening to these multi-artist-inspired tunes is very interesting because one hears not only their influences on Morse, but on one another. And the Leslie West (Mountain) inspired tune sounds like Morse is channeling West's heavy licks note for note and tone for tone. Amazing instrumental virtuosity!
Generally, I think he and I share the same overall concept and vision of the layout. But even so, we have significant differences of opinion on the inclusion of some scenes over others. (Needless to say, the client always has the final choice, although I try to make my case well in the discussion.)
It is always fascinating for me to see how two relatively knowledgeable people can take the same prototype, givens and 'druthers, etc. and distill different visions of a layout. Our vision for a layout design is influenced both by the way we see and by the way we visualize -- two words that seem the same but are mirror images of one another.
His vision comes out of many years spent studying and admiring the prototype and designing his own earlier successful layout. There are towns and scenes he wants because he wants them. More justification isn't possible -- or necessary. Those towns are the sine qua non* of the prototype and region to him. At the same time, from my outsider's perspective, there are different towns and scenes that hold a particular appeal because they communicate something especially unique about the prototype. Well, and OK, a couple of them just fit better in the space.
There are three sides to this story: the historical reality of the prototype -- where it went and what it did; my client's heartfelt vision and visceral understanding of the line; and my own inclination toward choosing scenes that tell a unique story of the prototype and era (and oh by the way, will fit!).
The creative tension between these "three sides" of the story will ultimately result in a better layout. And selfishly, the challenge and reward in coordinating these many different elements is what makes layout design so much fun for me.
* from the Latin: "Without which, not; an indispensable condition"
My musical listening has finally moved back into this century with Steve Morse's Major Impacts. Morse is an incredibly gifted guitarist, beginning with the Dixie Dregs, then his own solo career, with some time out as "hired gun" guitar slinger with later-day incarnations of Kansas and Deep Purple. (Those two gigs alone tell you something about his range.) Major Impacts is unique -- Morse plays his own original tunes written and performed in the style of his major influences. Thus, there's a song in the style of the Rolling Stones, the Byrds, etc. (not covers, but original compositions). In a couple of interesting cases, Morse links some performers together in a single tribute, such as Jeff Beck/Alex Lifeson (Rush)/Eric Johnson. Listening to these multi-artist-inspired tunes is very interesting because one hears not only their influences on Morse, but on one another. And the Leslie West (Mountain) inspired tune sounds like Morse is channeling West's heavy licks note for note and tone for tone. Amazing instrumental virtuosity!
Sunday, August 05, 2007
Change is choice
When I moved to the Bay Area, I had the pure dumb luck to pick a house a few miles away from custom layout builder Rick Fortin. Those of you who have seen some of my articles in the hobby press know that I have helped out a bit with construction and op sessions at Rick's layout over the last eight or nine years.
The quality with which Rick builds is an inspiration, and I've learned a lot just by being around the layout. But I still learn new lessons. A few days ago I dropped by while Rick and mutual friend Ted Thorson were reworking scenery as part of a project to put a connecting shortline into its first phase of operation. Rick has been extensively reworking sections of the layout roughed-in just a few years ago to create more realistic scenery profiles and add operating elements.
For many people, the thought of cutting into (even roughed-in) scenery is daunting. But Rick is always willing to make changes. This acceptance of the work required to make changes opens up many new choices, even for sections of the layout already in operation. One lesson learned for me is recognizing that every decision isn't "once and for all". If you're willing to make changes, it provides more choices in the future.
And that, in turn, helps diminish the "paralysis by over-analysis" so many of us experience.
Perhaps not the kind of guy you'd want your daughter to marry, but the late Warren Zevon had a keen eye, rapier-like wit, and certainly knew his way around a hook. While some of the lyrics are a little disquieting, A Quiet Normal Life: The Best of Warren Zevon is a lively look inside his mind and a time travel trip to the '80s. Nifty slide guitar and lap steel parts by Waddy Wachtel and David Lindley and that bright country-tinged production heard often in the era made this a fun listen this afternoon.
The quality with which Rick builds is an inspiration, and I've learned a lot just by being around the layout. But I still learn new lessons. A few days ago I dropped by while Rick and mutual friend Ted Thorson were reworking scenery as part of a project to put a connecting shortline into its first phase of operation. Rick has been extensively reworking sections of the layout roughed-in just a few years ago to create more realistic scenery profiles and add operating elements.
For many people, the thought of cutting into (even roughed-in) scenery is daunting. But Rick is always willing to make changes. This acceptance of the work required to make changes opens up many new choices, even for sections of the layout already in operation. One lesson learned for me is recognizing that every decision isn't "once and for all". If you're willing to make changes, it provides more choices in the future.
And that, in turn, helps diminish the "paralysis by over-analysis" so many of us experience.
Perhaps not the kind of guy you'd want your daughter to marry, but the late Warren Zevon had a keen eye, rapier-like wit, and certainly knew his way around a hook. While some of the lyrics are a little disquieting, A Quiet Normal Life: The Best of Warren Zevon is a lively look inside his mind and a time travel trip to the '80s. Nifty slide guitar and lap steel parts by Waddy Wachtel and David Lindley and that bright country-tinged production heard often in the era made this a fun listen this afternoon.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
What's it worth?
Those Mastercard commercials are so ubiquitous that they've become shorthand in our culture. You know, the "insect repellent, 5 dollars; allergy medicine, 6 dollars; not spending your vacation scratching and sniffing? Priceless" commercials?
I was reminded of that as I surveyed my not-very-quickly-building layout domain in the garage. Because I changed the plan significantly post-first sawdust, I had to change the staging yard from one side of the garage to the other, then change the location of the loop in staging from one end of the yard to the other.
Throughout, I was trying to keep the forlorn and lonely body tracks of the original staging shelf. This led to an increasingly challenging series of mental and ladder gymnastics to try to make everything line up, even though I had flipped the whole thing end-for-end and side-to-side.
Then I realized, what was I actually saving? A piece of homasote and some flex track. Now it's true I hate to waste ... growing up with two parents who lived through and remembered vividly the Great Depression will do that to you. Oh, and I am what you'd call ... er ... stubborn.
But this had gone past frugality to stupidity. So in one swift motion, before I could change my own mind, I backed out the handful of screws holding homasote to plywood, broke the thing into chunks, and stuffed it into the trash can.
Not having to live for years with an earlier mistake? Priceless.
I was reminded of that as I surveyed my not-very-quickly-building layout domain in the garage. Because I changed the plan significantly post-first sawdust, I had to change the staging yard from one side of the garage to the other, then change the location of the loop in staging from one end of the yard to the other.
Throughout, I was trying to keep the forlorn and lonely body tracks of the original staging shelf. This led to an increasingly challenging series of mental and ladder gymnastics to try to make everything line up, even though I had flipped the whole thing end-for-end and side-to-side.
Then I realized, what was I actually saving? A piece of homasote and some flex track. Now it's true I hate to waste ... growing up with two parents who lived through and remembered vividly the Great Depression will do that to you. Oh, and I am what you'd call ... er ... stubborn.
But this had gone past frugality to stupidity. So in one swift motion, before I could change my own mind, I backed out the handful of screws holding homasote to plywood, broke the thing into chunks, and stuffed it into the trash can.
Not having to live for years with an earlier mistake? Priceless.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
And now for something (not) completely different …
You know how sometimes friends who know of your interest in trains, but not the specifics, call you up about an article they've seen or an event that's happening in the area? That's always a kindness, but sometimes it's really tangential to my own hobby interests, like a display of a model of Lincoln's Funeral Train made entirely of Popsicle sticks or something. But once in a while an event that seems outside my main interests can still be engaging.
A non-model-railroading friend called to ask if I had heard about the EUROWEST 2007 train show at the Hiller Aviation Museum* in San Carlos, CA. Well, I've ridden trains in several European countries, but it's not a major point of my modeling interest. However, I did need a break from room (i.e., garage) prep and benchwork construction, so off we went.
I'm glad we did. Some neat modular layouts organized by members of the European Train Enthusiasts, including both Northern California and Southern California contingents.The photo is from last year's layout displayed by the So Cal group (Rick Anglin photo).
A local modeling acquaintance I happened to see there had his modules in the Nor Cal Meter-gauge HO layout, which had some neat features one does not often see in modular layouts. One of these was the ability to have a grade from one end of the layout to the other, facilitated by leg-height adjustment of up to a foot on each module and end loops. A couple of the modules had appealing curved track arrangements, and the group uses an interesting concept of "station" and "scenery" classes of modules. Station modules have sidings, industries, and local controls, while Scenery modules have only the main line passing through.
It was a refreshing inspiration to see trains running through nice scenery (even if the prototypes were a bit unfamiliar), especially since some of the tedious construction tasks I'm working on now seem far-removed from actually operating trains of my own. I'll never be one to say "trains are trains", but this slight departure from my norm was fun and motivating.
*The Hiller Aviation Museum was also interesting in its own right. I grew up in the center of Tom Wolfe's The Right Stuff test-pilot universe near Edwards Air Force Base in Southern California and my Father was in the aircraft industry, working on such famous planes as the A-1 Sky Raider, B-58 Hustler, F-104 Starfighter and the SR-71 Blackbird, among others. But I was surprised to find out how much aerospace history was also made in the Bay Area.
A non-model-railroading friend called to ask if I had heard about the EUROWEST 2007 train show at the Hiller Aviation Museum* in San Carlos, CA. Well, I've ridden trains in several European countries, but it's not a major point of my modeling interest. However, I did need a break from room (i.e., garage) prep and benchwork construction, so off we went.
I'm glad we did. Some neat modular layouts organized by members of the European Train Enthusiasts, including both Northern California and Southern California contingents.The photo is from last year's layout displayed by the So Cal group (Rick Anglin photo).A local modeling acquaintance I happened to see there had his modules in the Nor Cal Meter-gauge HO layout, which had some neat features one does not often see in modular layouts. One of these was the ability to have a grade from one end of the layout to the other, facilitated by leg-height adjustment of up to a foot on each module and end loops. A couple of the modules had appealing curved track arrangements, and the group uses an interesting concept of "station" and "scenery" classes of modules. Station modules have sidings, industries, and local controls, while Scenery modules have only the main line passing through.
It was a refreshing inspiration to see trains running through nice scenery (even if the prototypes were a bit unfamiliar), especially since some of the tedious construction tasks I'm working on now seem far-removed from actually operating trains of my own. I'll never be one to say "trains are trains", but this slight departure from my norm was fun and motivating.
*The Hiller Aviation Museum was also interesting in its own right. I grew up in the center of Tom Wolfe's The Right Stuff test-pilot universe near Edwards Air Force Base in Southern California and my Father was in the aircraft industry, working on such famous planes as the A-1 Sky Raider, B-58 Hustler, F-104 Starfighter and the SR-71 Blackbird, among others. But I was surprised to find out how much aerospace history was also made in the Bay Area.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Moderation?
As my friend and modeling conscience Mike asked, "Was that loud thump I heard the sound of you falling off the 'No Forum' Wagon?" Yep, guilty as charged. But hey, in only a couple of days back I've already managed to:
A) Get in a ridiculous argument with a notorious provocateur (I won, by the way)
B) Provide some detailed advice and references on a track planning question that was answered with "oh, yeah, thanks anyway ... I decided to build some models instead ..."
C) Receive a couple of testy emails for my dislike of "sacred sheet" HO 4X8s
D) Fire off outraged email screeds to perfectly innocent volunteers about others' use of forums to promote for-profit endeavors in an unseemly manner
... and ...
E) Do a couple of other things that I'd rather not talk about.
Yessirree, it's just like riding a bike ... some skills you never lose ...
Once I figure out this moderation thing, I'll be right as rain, I just know it.
A) Get in a ridiculous argument with a notorious provocateur (I won, by the way)
B) Provide some detailed advice and references on a track planning question that was answered with "oh, yeah, thanks anyway ... I decided to build some models instead ..."
C) Receive a couple of testy emails for my dislike of "sacred sheet" HO 4X8s
D) Fire off outraged email screeds to perfectly innocent volunteers about others' use of forums to promote for-profit endeavors in an unseemly manner
... and ...
E) Do a couple of other things that I'd rather not talk about.
Yessirree, it's just like riding a bike ... some skills you never lose ...
Once I figure out this moderation thing, I'll be right as rain, I just know it.
Friday, July 06, 2007
Ignoring the log in one's own eye
A recent article hyping one of the computer-based operating programs slammed car cards and waybills as being a "model railroad thought". Meanwhile, the author of the article apparently sees no irony in the fact that in order for the computer-based system to work properly and still allow conductors and yard masters some autonomy, these operators must constantly be feeding their moves into a networked computer. Yep, just like the real railroads did back in the 1950s. No wait, real railroads didn't do that in the '50s … or the '60s … or even the '70s, in a lot of places.
I guess a 1950s conductor typing away at a computer keyboard while looking at a glowing LCD display doesn't qualify as a "model railroad thought" ...
Everyone has their own preferences, interests, and corresponding compromises. It's a shame when partisans of one scheme or another choose not to be even-handed in what is ostensibly a non-commercial article. What is there to fear?
I guess a 1950s conductor typing away at a computer keyboard while looking at a glowing LCD display doesn't qualify as a "model railroad thought" ...
Everyone has their own preferences, interests, and corresponding compromises. It's a shame when partisans of one scheme or another choose not to be even-handed in what is ostensibly a non-commercial article. What is there to fear?
"Every day, in every way ...
… I'm getting better and better." Interesting aphorism, huh? Has sort of a '60s-'70s vibe, like "Have a nice day" and "I'm OK, you're OK". But in fact the saying and the concept are quite old, as I learned while re-reading a favorite book, The Lying Stones of Marrakech by the late paleontologist and essayist Stephen Jay Gould*. This self-help concept was developed in the 1920s by French physician Emile Coué, who found that patients who repeated this positive phrase daily along with receiving medication did better than those who received only medication.
Gould contrasted Coué's idea of incremental day-to-day improvements with the history of science, which tends to develop in discontinuous "bursts". Interesting how model railroad projects seem to benefit from both types of development: the half-hour-a-day squeezed out of a busy schedule as well as the multi-day building binge. (The latter usually in response to some sort of external deadline.)
Hopefully you're doing better at both the "every day, in every way" projects and the "big burst" projects than I've been able to manage recently. But the decks are reasonably clear this weekend, so I hope to make some progress. I'll let you know.
*Besides being a ground-breaking scientist and one of the best essayists in history, Gould was also distantly related to the railroading Goulds, Jay and George Jay, whose robber-baron efforts helped shape the railroad landscape of the late 19th- and early 20th century. Arguably, it's train related.
While building benchwork in the garage I've been listening to some older CDs that provide the right kind of intensity for the task. A fun re-discovery was Living Colour's 1988 album Vivid. Heavy guitar riffs, powerful vocals, and a solid funk-infused rhythm section. The group disbanded in 1995, but apparently has reformed for some concerts recently. Always one of my favorite music videos, although the late-'80s fashions are a tad dated (who would have dreamed Body Glove shorty jumpsuits weren't going to take off in the mainstream?)
Gould contrasted Coué's idea of incremental day-to-day improvements with the history of science, which tends to develop in discontinuous "bursts". Interesting how model railroad projects seem to benefit from both types of development: the half-hour-a-day squeezed out of a busy schedule as well as the multi-day building binge. (The latter usually in response to some sort of external deadline.)
Hopefully you're doing better at both the "every day, in every way" projects and the "big burst" projects than I've been able to manage recently. But the decks are reasonably clear this weekend, so I hope to make some progress. I'll let you know.
*Besides being a ground-breaking scientist and one of the best essayists in history, Gould was also distantly related to the railroading Goulds, Jay and George Jay, whose robber-baron efforts helped shape the railroad landscape of the late 19th- and early 20th century. Arguably, it's train related.
While building benchwork in the garage I've been listening to some older CDs that provide the right kind of intensity for the task. A fun re-discovery was Living Colour's 1988 album Vivid. Heavy guitar riffs, powerful vocals, and a solid funk-infused rhythm section. The group disbanded in 1995, but apparently has reformed for some concerts recently. Always one of my favorite music videos, although the late-'80s fashions are a tad dated (who would have dreamed Body Glove shorty jumpsuits weren't going to take off in the mainstream?)
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