Precious Snowflakes

We are not, sadly, not even to some parents who should at least begin that way. Nor are we all the same. We each have an unequal distribution of gifts, just starting with gender which presupposes a difference in upper-body strength. But don’t tell that to a 11 year old boy who just had his ass kicked by a girl. Maybe that is a memory-test.
There is much we can overcome, but it helps to be wired with a certain propensity for those things towards which we reach. Some reaches are beyond the reacher. Some are gifted musically, some linguistically, some physically, some politically, some artistically, some intellectually, some with “Beauty” and others with animal-magnetism.
And some have a heady cocktail mix of that which makes everything a turbulent frustrating struggle, while others travel with ease and an un-furrowed brow on still waters. The best thing about this country is we are not separated by Hereditary Titles of Nobility but by actual inherited physical differences, and those are legitimate.
So we each get to struggle, and in some kinds of struggle the athletes will win out over the intellectuals, and in other struggles the advantage is reversed. I’ve always been able to draw pictures, since I was small, to help make a memory-point, or explain an idea that words did not complete, but the same fluid-fingers are totally useless at music. So “creativity” is also unequally distributed. I find it odd that some people cannot draw a simple landscape-view or a person’s face, but other people can plot the financial outcomes of nations and the strategy of war, which I cannot.
At sports I was pretty fast and strong but not the fastest and strongest, pretty agile but not the most agile. Some sports, like basketball, are completely beyond me and hold no interest whatsoever – the enthusiasm for “March Madness” defies any and all of my comprehension, I never played much basketball since we lived overseas. I got stronger because I had to defeat my older and bigger brother – and I did.
My own physical tendency is to individual things where competition is not really central, because I’m not really interested in how well (or better) other people do the same thing – they are not me. I like to snorkel, but I’m a good swimmer and a lot of people have problems with open-water, or just water itself. Like shooting. I enjoy shooting competitively, but not because of the competition or any thought of “winning,” but because of the structure and organization that enables me to gauge my own personal progress. Some people care about winning and losing and keeping score. What color is that again? Like racing Enduros. I started riding late in life and “raced” as a C-Senior. Because I was persistent and showed-up at enough events I got the semblance of “Sponsorship.” But “Mistakes were made” and the color of that was purple – as in bruises and broken ribs, and the permanently bent finger. Before it was just a do-it-all hand, now it’s perfectly curved to grip a throttle or a gun.

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About NotClauswitz

The semi-sprawling adventures of a culturally hegemonic former flat-lander and anti-idiotarian individualist, fleeing the toxic cultural smug emitted by self-satisfied lotus-eating low-land Tesla-driving floppy-hat wearing lizadroid-Leftbat Califorganic eco-tofuistas ~

6 thoughts on “Precious Snowflakes

  1. I seem to have received the depths of the genetic pool in the physical department, but not the deepest. It was that close. But that was more than twenty years ago.

    I was reminded of this just last night when I was out running. A trot for me as a much younger man, literally, what would have been done faster, and as a warm-up for any race, was a bit fatiguing. Must train more often, and harder.

    Father Time is a mofo in need of a serious ass-kicking, however, he’s got a perfect record on the score card, so here I am, attempting the impossible. Stuck on stupid. Sound familiar? But running is an effort in introspection, so I can relate, precisely, to that of which you speak.

    Most of the rest of it I’d rather just shit-can, to be honest.

    Being a modern day architect isn’t what most conceive it to be; Rand wasn’t romanticizing about Wright when she wrote The Fountainhead, she just gave him a different name. But the game has changed. To make any money you need connections, both low and high, and a slew of people who’ll work for nothing for you (that’s me). Then the work has about as much interest as…insert your favorite cliché. It sucks the soul right out of you, as well as your time. It’s a game for those with a very precisely placed IQ and wide moral lattitude (guess how architects vote, almost always), so it’s no surprise that I find the whole thing so off-putting.

    More work. In the right direction.

    That’s my decision on finding my way out of the hole.

    Onward, sir.

    And good luck.

    • You can run? I could only do that when I played soccer, otherwise forget it – but drop me in the water, at least I won’t sink.
      My dad always said Architects spend the first thirty years working for someone else. Sounds like the German Academic system where the old professor must die before his assistant can inherit his seat. I’m not surprised that Architects can be Brahmins, they are keepers of the sacred thread – and voting like that is mainly to demonstrate in public their Ritual Purity and deservedness of Primacy and Place – like a Pharisee (or a Brahmin), because otherwise who would care? 🙂
      How much does it cost to build a garage? A new comp-shingle roof on a 1700sq/ft ranch around here is about $9k, but a cool-ass garage with a secret underground lair and sally-port exits is probably more. You ever do secret-stuff in the trade? 🙂

    • Used to be able to run. Chased the four-minute mile for a while. Rare territory.

      I loved it.

      I trust you can use a scale, and since I know you can draw, the design isn’t anything to worry about.

      Details will be all about meeting the inspector’s requirements, living in earthquake country like you do, which might be easier than you think. Simpson makes a couple of different, pre-built shear walls that are pretty slick and the roof trusses are usually a delegated design when you’re ordering; the manufacturer has their own engineer and they make sure what you’re getting won’t get you killed. Various other straps and seats are also available to tie it all together.

      That leaves the foundation and pad. That’s power equipment territory as far as I’m concerned, unless you’re young and/or have lots of ambition. And pouring concrete. It’s an art form. There may be some requirements for design services from an engineer. Can’t be certain but I’m conservative about such matters and I’d include that scope of work.

      Interesting comparison, the architect to some sort of shaman. Too true. It’s all about establishing and selling a myth, as one of my dear professors used to say. There is little that I can lend (much less sell) to anyone who does their own design work and who might have a knack for it to begin with, save for maybe some experience in dealing with the esoterica associated with construction and reading/interpreting the code book.

      I’m useless, or at the very least superfluous.

    • Not as useless as me! 🙂 Actually up here we are no longer in earthquake country, but fire – and County Permit Revenue country. And pouring concrete is a bit more energetic than I anticipate, unless I get a job doing it – which I doubt will happen.

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