Craft Services

By definition, craft services on a film set centers around providing food for the crew of the movie -- the electricians, the sound people, the set set-er-uppers.

Apparently, however, it can, and frequently is far more than that. My recent conversation with someone in the trade indicates that the job title includes more than providing impressive spreads of food. Responsibilities also range from finding a specific type of electrical gadgetry to assuring the director's car has a full tank of gas to getting a star's dress mended. And, as is typical of service jobs, they are thankless -- and craft service people rarely get thanked. (But I'm betting they get lots of complaints!)

The job provides an immense amount of training with regards to focus on detail. Literally, no detail is too small. And the details must be attended to with speed, efficiency and no fuss. In short, the fix must be seamless and invisible.

Those who excel in this arena must be tolerant, have long (or no) fuses, be flexible and resourceful, and a sense of humor. This last is probably most important. The frustrations of dealing with endless requests, demands and complaints would try the patience of a saint. Being able to laugh about the situation -- even if not immediately! -- is crucial.

Googling and goggle-eyed

I should be busily preparing patient files or writing an exam for next week, or researching material for my new writing gig. Instead, I'm on the 'net, researching locales which to which I've traveled.

The motivation is correct: many of the places I stayed in Europe are unique, charming and appealing. Since I'm writing for a hotelier (guess which?), I need to look at how others are describing their establishments.

One problem: websites in Europe are written for Europeans. While I've actually tracked down a number of the hotels in which I had memorable stays, I can't read the descriptions. I'm barely fluent in English. French, German, Italian -- I need a translator.

Then, the tangential searches and side-googles began. Right! Found the Stafler Hotel in Mauls (Italy) and the Zum Alten Brauhaus in Bitburg (Germany).

Then my mind flitted to the Sud Tyrol within the Dolomites ("my favorite Alps!") and a magical week I spent in Castelrotto (Kastelruth if you're German). This charming Tyrolean town is nestles at the base of the Seis am Schlern. I remember seeing the Dolomites for the first time and thinking 'God speaks.' This, from an agnostic.

I wonder what it would be like to grow up with this monolith towering above you. Immutable, spectacular, challenging, dangerous and wonderful -- living life with such a view must have some impact on residents. Or is it similar to living near the ocean or even in the Finger Lakes: we begin to take these natural wonders for granted.

Memories flood back as I look at the internet images of the area. I conquered my fear of going down hill on x-c skis on the Schlern. J and I were skiing on top of the massif, and found a downhill ski resort. "It's now or never!" I said, and off we went. We repeated the exercise several times to make sure I was over throwing myself down a mountain on skinny skis. It was fun!

One of the nights were were there we went to dinner at one of the local restaurants. Neither of us had a clue as to what we were ordering, and the waitress spoke no American. I ordered spaetzle, J ordered speck. I was entirely veg at the time.

When the waitress appeared with a large cutting board of beautifully rolled smoked bacon, I muttered soto voce 'mmmmm! Just what I always wanted.' I'd have eaten it; when in Rome...

However, we quickly clarified that I had ordered what turned out to be potato dumplings, and the bacon was all J's.

The pressure's on!

I have my first paid writing gig. While I sometimes struggle to get going on this blog, sooner or later I sit down in front of the flat screen monitor, fire up the HP, and come up with at least a few lines.

It's much easier to blog than to write on demand. I've got some ideas about what to say, but how to write it seems beyond me at this point. I guess I'll take The Little Princess for a spin into town to run errands.

Procrastination at its finest! I'll couch it in terms of 'taking time to allow my subconscious to sort itself out.'

An Old Dog's Life

Today, The Big Guy fell flat on his belly during our afternoon walk. I don't know why he did: he was on relatively flat ground with nothing to trip over or on. The poor guy was clearly frightened. I had a hard time picking him up and getting him going.

This evening he kept circling behind my desk chair, then stand, his head hanging down. Then, he'd circle again. It was clear he wanted to lie down but was dreading the discomfort of doing so. I put him out for our late evening routine, and gave him his pre-sleep snack. It's the dog equivalent of a warm glass of milk.

When he headed back to his blanket, I sat next to him on the floor and pulled him into a sit on my lap. He appeared surprised that sitting was so easy. After that I picked up his front end & put him in a down position. He was clearly nervous -- he breaths in a distinctive 'huffff, huffff, huffff' pattern when he's uncertain.

I just held him, petting him and scratching behind his ears until he relaxed. Within 5 minutes, he was sound asleep. He is sleeping more comfortably than he has in days.

I'm happy to help him. It breaks my heart that I have to.

Precision

In addition to my 'real' job, I teach a couple of anatomy/physiology classes. It's a terrific way for me to interact with people younger than 70. I also get to share my love of the material with students, and continue to learn. Nothing like teaching to foster learning: the more I teach, the more I learn.

It never ceases to amaze me that I can give students questions from an exam verbatim, and they'll still get the answer wrong. I can tell the the exact question, and the exact answer -- yet, for whatever reason, it's as if they don't hear me, or don't believe me, or don't process the information.

I truly want my students to succeed, and there is material that I know they need to know. So I attempt to spoon feed them. Apparently spoon feeding doesn't work for the majority. I'm not sure what will.

Cross Country Zen

I became enamored of athletic endurance events relatively late. I was well into my 20's before I was introduced to cross-country skiing. Two friends persuaded my beau of the time and I to enter the Canadian Ski Marathon with them as a team. Together, we completed enough legs to place third -- an exciting moment for a neophyte!

J and I enjoyed ourselves so much, we entered the now defunct Chautaqua Overland Ski Marathon. This too, was fun, and I got to enjoy the fruits of my labor. In fact, I got to enjoy carbs, proteins, and fats; when you're skiing 25 to 50K at a pop, weight control is not an issue.

Equally motivating: a week or so after the race, a friend send me a package. It contained a plaque for second place in my age group. I remember thinking 'wow! If I do this well when I don't know what I'm doing, imagine how well I can do if I take lessons and train!'

I was hooked. For 7 or 8 years, I was addicted to x-c s. It was a lifestyle. Training on roller blades and roller skiis all summer, ski racing nearly every weekend during the all-too-short winter. Vermont, PA, upstate NY, CA (Royal Gorge!). Winters flew by. I enjoyed my food, and could pack away the calories without thought. I loved the winter scenery.

Then came the World Loppet races. The goal is to do all 14 as part of my Bucket List. I've done 5, including the Finlandia Hiihto and the Engadin.

Europeans take x-c seriously. Very seriously. Tens of thousands participate in European races. The 2 years I did the Engadin, there were over 10,00 participants. In the Hiihto, over 14,000 skiers. J and I flew to Finland for the Hiihto about 8 days early. We stayed at a small inn ('all inclusive!') and got used to the time change. We skied daily leading up to the race.

X-c is integrated into Finns' lives; it's not some obscure sport that gets mocked. Everyone in Finland seems to ski. Many roads are closed to cars in the winter -- instead, they're used as ski trails. Kids ski to school, parents ski to work and to run errands. Because of the long nights, street lights are lit to guide people along byways.

I loved being in our little hotel. We'd wake up, eat a hearty breakfast and ski for a couple of hours. We'd come back at lunchtime, eat, and rest for a short period, either napping or watching one of four channels of ski racing. After skiing again, we'd return to rest before dinner (more ski racing), dine, then return to read or watch - you guessed it - more racing. And when I talk about ski racing, I mean x-c, not down hill.

Fond recollections of that trip include eating smoked salmon and boiled potatoes at least once a day. This was a treat remembered from my childhood, thanks to parents from Northern Europe. It was also thrilling to ski the last few kilometers through the twilight, then descend through darkness into the Lahti ski stadium as the announcer trumpeted my name, race number, finish time and home country.

Engaging in the sport centered me. Learning proper skate technique and racing gave me goals upon which to focus. It took the edge off job-related anxiety and frustration. Best of all, flying through the winter landscape was -- is -- simply a joy.

Skiing got me addicted to endurance sports -- I've run marathons and have become a sprint triathlete. Not much of a joiner or a team player, I've definitely got the psyche to spend long, hard, (sometimes boring) hours training for long distance events. There is pay-off: friends I'll have for life, a healthy lifestyle, and goals that will, with training and luck, keep me going for decades.

22/7 and Caesar

22/7.

This is the Greek mathematician Archimedes' first approximation of Pi(π).

Pi is more commonly calculated to be 3.1415926, and Pi Day (March 14) celebrates this number. To be accurate, Pi instant occurs on March 14 at 1:59:26 a.m./p.m. Hence yesterday was Pi Day. Frequently, Pi Day is celebrated by eating pie (lots of it and lots of various types), and contemplating the importance of Pi.

Larry Shaw, a physicist at the San Francisco Exploratorium, is the founder of Pi Day, which was first celebrated in 1988. Pies of all types are consumed -- and yes, include pizza.

22/7 is a more accurate estimate of Pi, and Pi Approximation Day is celebrated on July 22. Pi is an irrational number, hence the fraction 22/7 is considered to be a closer approximation.

Note: On March 14, 2015, the date will reflect five digits of pi (3/14/15) rather than three. Pi minute will be at 9:26 on that day, and pi second will be at 9:26:53.

Further Pi Note: The symbol for pi was first used in 1706 by William Jones, but came into common use after it was adopted by the Swiss mathematician Leonhard Euler. in 1737.

And last, but not least: The Massachusetts Institute of Technology mails its acceptance (and hence its rejection) letters to have their delivery coincide with Pi Day. Potential M.I.T. students will either be enjoying Pi, or left feeling as if they've had one thrown in their face.

On to today's date, March 15.

The date has become imbued with a dark meaning. The soothsayers allegedly told Julius Caesar to 'beware the Ides Of March!' In J.C.'s day, however, it was a way of referring to the middle of a month. There's an 'ides' of every month of the year. The fifteenth is specific to March, May, July and October, whereas the thirteenth day of every other month is categorized as the ides. However, Caesar immortalized this specific March day.

In 709 AUC, Caesar was assassinated on the Ides of March. Over 60 conspirators stabbed him in the Roman Senate -- one might safely assume they were all senators. (Can you imagine a similar event occurring in the U.S. Senate? Hmmm, come to think of it.....)