My father and I shared a few interests. Sadly, we tended
to share them separately. Hunting, fishing and camping
were exceptions. These we did do together. One important
interest that we failed to even discuss was our liking
for science fiction. We both appreciated the writing of
Robert A. Heinlein. I suspect for different reasons. I was
more interested in the psychology of the characters and the
cultures which they both inhabited and created. He was more
likely attracted to the technological innovations and systems.
After my time in Navy bootcamp and basic electronics training
in San Diego, I was shipped off to North Chicago. The Great
Lakes Training Centre hosted the A and C Schools for advanced
electronics training which lasted a year. That was one tough
year for me. I had the background for the study, but suffered
from the restrictive regimentation of military life. What got
me through those months was a steady supply of science fiction
books that I was able to pick up in Chicago while on liberty.
PK Dick was, and still is, a favourite author. But, it was a
quote from Lazarus Long in Heinlein's "Time Enough for Love"
that deeply affected me. I often repeat the last phrase
to myself, either silently or aloud, when dealing with the
inappropriate excesses of bureaucracy:
A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an
invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building,
write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone,
comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act
alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure,
program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently,
die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.
While lecturing in public health, I would use stories from
my life to illustrate various concepts. More than once,
students would challenge my age or my veracity: How could
you have possibly done all those things in your life-time? I
would respond with, "Specialization is for insects...get out
there and live your lives!" I will admit that that living
a full life was easier in the past when there were fewer
regulations. Growing up rural working class also helped;
you just had to get things done.
For example, by the time I was 16 years old, I was qualified
to work summers as a forestry technician. This meant that I was
able to fight forest fires for three fire seasons beginning in
the summer between my junior and senior years in high school. I
lettered in tennis and cross-country, was a page editor on our
school newspaper for two years, was the dj for our school radio
station, loaded the large soda deliver truck for the town in
the morning and offloaded the empty bottles in the evenings
for the local distributor. I started working on farms in the
summer when I was thirteen and helped to muster, innoculate,
brand, dehorn and casterate cattle as I grew older and bigger.
It's getting harder for folks, young and old, to experience the
full breadth of their humanity. We live in a digital world,
a world where our digits do most of the work by pushing
buttons. That's the easiest way to live these days. But, it
is possible to expand the types of practices that we engage in
during each day and night. We can not only learn to program a
computer rather than just using the programs of others. We can
also learn to take that programming right down to the metal,
as it were. We can even learn how to solder circuit boards
and wire networks.
To change things up, we can take a break and get out to
walk our neighbourhoods and local trails. While doing that,
we can occasionally stop to have a good look at the plants
and carefully listen to the local insect sounds and bird
calls. Of course, I advocate carrying a bag with you to pick
up some of the trash you might normally just pass by. Sadly,
unlike insects, we tend to live "throw away" lives.
