Category Archives: not sure where to put this

Hurricane Preparation — What I would do differently

According to ancient military wisdom, any battle plan lasts until the first engagement. We’ve planned pretty well, but this post is a link of what I think we did well, and what I would do differently. As the storm progresses, it wouldn’t surprise me to see things shift from the first list to the second list.

What we did well

  • We have hurricane protection. If I were to go back to 1999, when we moved in our house and do something differently, I’d try to find a way to include hurricane protection into the cost of the house. I can’t imagine trying to ride this out without protection. It’s worth every penny down here–the best present you can give your family, especially if you have kids.
  • We put ours up early. It was still okay Saturday, but when the breezes came up, here and there yesterday, it got a lot harder. By getting done early, we reduced our risk and put ourselves in a position to help others.
  • We adjusted well. There was no water, so we got pails and filled them. Plan B is vital.
  • We kept our heads. At various points, we thought about leaving, but our house is rated up to 140 mph. Considering the traffic on I-75 and the gas situation, it would’ve been dangerous and irresponsible for us to leave. One less car on the road, one less tankful of gasoline used.
  • We used Amazon to help prepare. Batteries, radio, flashlight–all of which we got. We were going to get food, but the delivery timeline was too long.
  • We identified one person out of the area as a conduit for information. No freaking everyone out.
  • We set expectations. We have no reliable cell service here, so if the power or Internet goes out, our landline doesn’t work. We told people that if they can’t get us, it means the power’s out. Nothing more.
  • Took pictures of our hurricane shutters installed on each window to show the insurance company, in case there was any damaged.
  • Advised people who had trouble with their shutters to call the builder’s warranty line to show a record that their shutters weren’t right.

What I would do differently

  • If we ever move into another house in Florida, the first weekend we live there, we’re going to put up the hurricane protection. Several houses in our development had ill-fitting or missing protection. Also, there’s a learning curve. But if you wait until the day before to put it up and it doesn’t work, you have no recourse.
  • We’d have prepared a little earlier. We just moved, so we didn’t have the water and the staples. We should’ve replenished earlier. We’ll be okay–I think–in terms of food and water.
  • We didn’t get extra cell charger batteries. They’re cheap and there’s no reason not to get them. If we’re out of power a long time, we’ll need the cell phone to communicate (though we’ll have to drive someplace).
  • Get box cutters to put in the upstairs bedrooms. If there’s a fire, the shutters (fabric shutters) would trap us in our rooms. That purchase will be made after the storm.

Because sometimes you need a video of a washing machine, a brick, and a trampoline.

Star Wars review: A fun, fun ride, but…

Before I had a chance to see Return of the Jedi (my favorite Star Wars movie, but probably third best), I saw the headline in USA Today. Jumpin Jedi: Darth Vader is Luke’s Father. In fairness, it wasn’t a huge revelation, considering the scene toward the end of The Empire Strikes Back, but still…


There are spoilers below.

Big spoilers.

Life changing spoilers.

Read on at your own peril.

You’ve been warned…

Gratuitous Princess Leia picture

The Force Awakens is a credible, enjoyable Star Wars movie, certainly the best in 32 years, since Leia donned the slave suit and Luke torched Darth Vader’s remains. JJ Abrams has managed to do in Star Wars (so far) something he hasn’t managed in Star Trek–respecting the franchise. But there are flaws and signs of danger.

First, I never want to see a death star or death star derivative again. There’s a spoof song called All about that base (no rebels) that includes the lyric “Cause it’s not like it’d be blown up twice by the same Jedis.” The new improved Death Star (now a planet) works,  but only just barely. After  you have a planet that sucks suns to power its destructive force, you can’t really go bigger, which leads to the next potential issue…

Everything is bigger. Everything. The death star (planet), the battle destroyers. The battle cruiser used by the main antagonist. There are more clone forces, more TIE fighters, and more big-ass ships. The pattern of these moves tends to go bigger with each iteration, as if they have to out size and speed the previous movie. In this case, bigger was better. But in the next movie, smaller would be better. Which leads to the next issue…

The scariest thing about the movie was the hardware. In the original movie, the Death Star was scary, but Darth Vader was scarier. The main antagonist in this episode, Kylo Ren, is pretty powerful, mostly, sort of, but in a movie filled with reminders of past stories, he’s the new Anakin Skywalker–in all the bad ways. He’s supposed to seem fearful in his anger, but he seems more like a petulant little brat. And Supreme Leader Snoke, as supposedly bigger, more powerful version of the Emporer, is lacking judgement to give so much unchecked control to such a loose cannon.

At the end of the story, after Kylo and his tag-team partner, General Hux, lose brazillions of dollars (or credits or whatever) of super deadly technology, Snoke summons Ren home to complete his training. If you built a planet-sized Death Star, wouldn’t you rather have a fully trained co-commander? Kylo Ren isn’t imposing–the hardware was. The next moving needs him to be the main source of menace.

Kylo Ren, whiny punk

The confrontation between Han Solo and Kylo–his son–lacked emotional power. This should’ve been a powerful scene, considering Han dies. But the set-up didn’t work. The loss of the former Ben Solo to the dark side lacked the punch it should’ve delivered. Han and Leia should’ve reacted differently and more strongly to seeing each other for the first time, considering the loss of their son to the dark side made their marriage crumble.

And finally, the First Order somehow managed to hide the creation of a planet-sized Death Star, not to mention paying for it, from the Republic. In real life, if your military is building something that enormous, there has to be a back story, some sort of perceived external threat that allows it to be built. That’s not the case here. There’s no external threat strong enough to make the weapon seem wise in a theoretically free republic. You can’t surprise a sovereign government with a weapon built in a planet that can disintegrate half a dozen planets at once.

All of these flaws were forgivable because the story was fun and, except for the bad guys, the characters were engaging. Rey and Finn were great together, and I want to see more of Poe, the pilot. I want to see more of him. With Han gone, hopefully the gap makes room for more of his cocky fun.

But while they’re easy to overlook this time–because the story was fun and it was great to see Leia, Han, and Chewie, they won’t be if they aren’t addressed next time.

The fact that the next story seems to revolve around Luke seems to set us up for a smaller story with more character development–a bridge story to an ultimate showdown. But if JJ Abrams tries to make a bigger, faster Empire Strikes Back, he’ll make the money, but the franchise will suffer for it.

A moment in time

The woman sitting at the table in front of me at Panera is slight, wearing a lightweight summer dress with a cacophony of lines and colors and zigzags that somehow works. Her hair is up in a haphazard bun with a single wispy curl corkscrewing carelessly down her neck. Based on the pink strap that comes up over her shoulder on an angle, she’s probably wearing a bikini top.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” she asks her companion. Her voice has almost a sing-song quality, and I can imagine a suppressed smile as she speaks.

I can’t really see her companion. I know he’s eating a blueberry bagel with cream cheese and drinking orange juice.

I go back whatever it is I’m doing for a few seconds until I hear his slight voice say, “King me.”

She moves and then there’s a draw out discussion as they discuss his possible moves. He’s maybe five and he and his mom are having bagels and playing checkers at Panera. The checkerboard’s far from your typical cardboard $10 set. It’s finished wood, about three inches thick and he carried it like it was the crown jewels as his mom juggled the plates and drinks and her oversized purse.

And then he and his mom played checkers as if they were the only people who existed and the world consisted of them, the bagels, and the checkerboard. There was no time. There was no work, no deliverables. No agendas or positioning for advancement. No political vitriol or bold statements about God or tolerance. There was just a boy and a woman and a checkerboard.

It was the most ordinary thing in the world. And the most precious.

It evokes those old Country Time lemonade commercials about hammocks and running off the dock and jumping into the lake and those endless summer afternoons that seem to vanish when you grow up.

Those moments always end. The checkers game isn’t quite over when they pack up and leave. Time may not exist to the boy, but it does to the mother and something else awaits. But it was awesome while it lasted, even just to watch from behind.

No real point to this post, and maybe that’s the point. There doesn’t always have to be a point. It’s Saturday, after all.

Why exist if you can never simply exist?

Screw you, luddites


To borrow a phrase from the great philosopher Sergeant Hulka…

Because of technology, I get to watch my daughter become a college freaking graduate from a hotel room. How do you rail against that?

Because of technology, people suffering from diseases like Celiac have dietary options they didn’t have even ten years ago.

Because of technology, people live through stuff they’d have died of ten years ago and wouldn’t even know they had thirty or forty years ago.

Because of technology, you can find someone in your shoes and get support from them even if they’re half a world away.

And more things that my puny imagination can list.

So honestly, take your hip little contrarian rant someplace else…

…mostly because this is a blog, on the Internet, delivered to you by technology.

A hero’s weekend

I remember a little girl. A tough, sweet, maddening, wonderful little girl. The little girl who broke her thumb, but didn’t say anything about it to us at the time because she was too busy playing. That should have been our first clue that nothing would get between her and what she wanted.

She went to sleep away camp for the first time and came back furious because she couldn’t stay for a full week like the older kids. At the time, I told my wife to enjoy her while we had her, because she wouldn’t stick around.

In sixth grade, she decided to go to the IB middle school located halfway to Miami from our house. If you aren’t familiar with IB, it means I be carting her halfway to Miami more than I can imagine.

Yesterday, when that tough, sweet, maddening, wonderful woman dressed in her cap and gown and walked for her undergrad degree (she doesn’t actually graduate until tomorrow), I–a manly man who’s all about manly stuff because I am the man–struggled to keep the tears at bay.


In sixth grade, this girl routinely worked early into the morning, grabbed a little sleep, then got up ridiculously early to go to school, so she could come home–typically after an activity of some sort–and do it all over again.

In middle school, everything is an abstraction. There was no grand plan to be the valedictorian at one of the best high schools around. She didn’t plan on getting into the Elliott School of International Affairs at George Washington University or studying in South Africa or rubbing elbows with people who are just names in the news to most of us.

In South Africa.

The book of Hebrews defines faith as confidence in what we hope for and assurance in what we do not see.

When I see this woman, I see the definition of faith in action. I see a woman who didn’t know what was out there, but knew she wanted it. A woman whose believe in the life she could have was stronger than the desire all of us–teenagers especially–have to just freaking sleep.

IB done. An IB tradition enjoyed by her four years ago.

I see a woman who has amazed me through her entire life, but astounded me repeatedly in the last ten years.

Of course no one does it alone. Even people with great faith waiver. It helps to have someone there to talk you down from the inevitable knowledge that you aren’t going to pull it off this time, that the pile is too high and the work is too hard and that this time, even after all the other times, you just aren’t good enough.

So this weekend, as that wonderful young woman rightfully celebrates her amazing faith and confidence along with a damn lot of hard work, it’s not enough to leave it at that. It is right and proper to celebrate her rock steady support system who has never once failed her.

Congratulations to my wife, Laura for exemplifying what it is to be a mom through missed sleep and worry and faith in someone who didn’t necessarily have it herself just then.

And congratulations to Jennifer Hamilton.

It’s quite a wonderful thing to be inspired by the people you raised. In so many ways, you are a model for me of faith and hard work and accomplishment.

You have so earned this weekend and much more. And you are building an amazing life that will make a difference.

You are one big damn hero.

Grace Lee Whitney

Grace Lee Whitney died over the weekend. She was 85 years old.

If you don’t know Grace Lee Whitney, it’s no big deal. It’s not like you’re hoping for people to die, but 85-year-old women die all the time.

But if you remember her, her passing is a reminder of times gone by and time going by. Among heterosexual American males around my age, Grace Lee Whitney was a big part of discovering that girls weren’t icky pains in the neck.

That’s mostly because she was Yeoman Rand in Star Trek. When I first started watching–on the early evening re-runs–I didn’t know exactly why I liked the episodes she was in. I just did. Something was different about her than there was about the girls at school. (Except Julianne Thomas, who let me hold her hand one time when we walked through the leaves in her driveway.)

Yeoman Rand, sentenced to the fate of all grups.

What I didn’t know at the time was why Yeoman Rand was only in eight episodes. Whitney started taking amphetamines to keep her figure–a big deal on Star Trek. Depending on who you believe, she was written out after eight episodes so Captain Kirk could screw every willing female in the universe. Or she was let go because of her substance abuse issues.

That substance abuse took Whitney far from the bride of the Enterprise. She wound up homeless and participating in a Skid Row 12-step program. One story says that DeForest Kelley saw her on an unemployment line and said that fans were asking for her at conventions.

Once she got her life put together, she appeared in four of the movies, as well as Star Trek: Voyager, where her character had become a commander.

But in real life, she’d also done well. Her family said that she wanted to be known more as a successful survivor of addition than as Yeoman Rand. She also helped others with substance abuse problems at women’s correctional facilities and the Salvation Army.

As a guy of my age demographic, I’ll always remember Yeoman Rand an early part of my road to puberty and beyond. But the things she did out of the limelight were probably more important.

Anheuser Busch insults a target audience; trashes small businesses

During the Super Bowl on Sunday, Anheuser-Busch paid a lot of money to air this singular piece of crap…

I’ve been spending time and money recently at a local microbrew called the Wild Rover. It’s family-owned. The dad runs the place. The son is the brewmaster. The daughter-in-law tends bar and the mom runs the kitchen out of a food truck (an authentic British double-decker bus converted to a kitchen–how cool is that?).

I’ve never started a bar and restaurant, but I imagine it’s not easy. First you have to buy all the stuff required to have a bar and restaurant. And when you make your own beer, that includes brewing equipment. You have to get all the right permits and pass all the inspections. You have to get the word out so when you open your door, you actually have paying customers.

You need a great location. Probably more liability insurance than one would think. And a lot of seed money because while you’re putting all this together, nothing is paying the bills.

And after you do that, maybe–maybe–it’ll work.

Anheuser-Busch thinks it brews beer the hard way? Schmucks.

The brewmaster, a guy named Ricky, puts a lot of effort into trying out new beers and finding ones that work. You might say his fusses over them, you know, so they’re good.

When I go there, they know my name–and they’re always glad I came. And because they’re a local business and they make me feel welcome, I’m always glad I came, too.

But hey, real beer drinkers don’t understand high-falutin’ concepts like working your ass off to build a business or following your passion and scratching out a living at it. That’s two high-brow for real beer drinkers.

For the record, Budweiser is getting it’s butt kicked by micro brews. A recent study indicated that 44% of beer drinkers between 21 and 27 have never tried Budweiser. The study was sponsored by Budweiser’s parent company InBev. Budweiser’s share of the market has gone down 9% in the past five years and 14% in the last decade. Overall, Bud’s volume has fallen from 50 million barrels in 1988 to 16 million barrels in 2013.

The article where I got those statistics said, “The company has decided that persuading 21- to 27-year-olds to grab a Bud is the best chance to stop the free-fall.” Craft beer sales, meanwhile, are growing at the rate of 2% a year. And Tampa has a ton of craft beer options.

Although Anheuser-Busch has enough cash to spend $9 million on a Super Bowl ad, here’s some free advice. If you want people to drink your product, maybe instead of insulting them, you should just make better beer.

And honestly, I’d rather drink a pumpkin peach ale–something I’m certain to not enjoy, than something brewed out of sour grapes.

Kind and generous

Today, it’s customary to be thankful, and so I am in 51 incredible ways:

  1. That I exist. That two people got together and decided to create life and that it worked and that I am the outcome of that process. Think for a minute of how cool that is, of all the things that had to happen that you exist. And yet you do. Just your existence is like hitting the lottery.
  2. That I had people who sacrificed and did their best to take care of me and bring me up, starting with my parents. And then my grandparents and other friends and relatives who looked out for me, nurtured me, and were kind and generous to me.
  3. For my sister, who helped teach how to (and how not) to relate to other people. And who, under certain circumstances, gave my parents an alternate target…
  4. For all the teachers I had from the time I started school. There were some special ones along the way: Mrs. Thorne, Miss Murray, Mrs. Pelon, Ms. Muthig, Mrs. Wert, Mr. Dickinson (critter report, anyone? and the ever-important B-O-N-U-S), Sr. Jean, Sr. Barbara, Mr. Pesha, Dr. Lubin, and the rest.
  5. For my grandfather. All of my grandparents were special people who blessed my life, but my relationship with my grandfather was special. I don’t remember any more, really, beyond the pictures, but I know there was something there. I didn’t get so spend very long with him, but I was blessed for the time there was.
  6. For being six. I can remember for some reason thinking that being six was the best thing you could be. That it was awesome and it didn’t get any better than that.
  7. For Mike Ostermann, my best friend in my early years. Mike was into war stuff and because of him, I started drawing, war stuff mostly.
  8. For my bike, a blue Roll-Fast with a banana seat that could lay down a skid that extended from here to the horizon (except on Mr. Sanford’s part of the sidewalk. I got in trouble for that).
  9. For discovering sports. A few early memories were watching the last out of the 1972 World Series, Super Bowl VII, and my life-long love-hate affair with the Mets and Jets. There’s been a lot of frustration, but it’s added a lot to my life, too.
  10. For moving to Galway. It totally rocked having a back yard big enough to play football in. And driving the tractor was cool, until I had to use it to mow the lawn.
  11. For square dancing. We had to do it when I was in fifth grade. And it showed me that if I worked at something I could actually accomplish it. It felt special when our class was the one that got to do this extra thing none of the other classes could do. Thanks, Mrs. Pelon.
  12. For girls. I discovered that for some reason I really liked Gail Shufelt and Wendy something-or-other. I didn’t quite know why, but they were awesome.
  13. For playing baseball. I didn’t do it for very long and I was never very good at it, but I think it helped seed my son’s love for the game, a game he plays today.
  14. For going to Indian Lake in the summertime. It was always special. The huge porch, the lazy afternoons, the cool breeze coming in the window at night, and all the special stuff that happened up there. It’s still a place with some of my favorite memories.
  15. For going to camp in the summer. For the experience of having snapped Connie Adams’ bra strap. It’s not a cool thing now, but it was pretty neat at that age and the best I could really do in terms of flirting. She didn’t seem to mind (and if she did and she somehow reads this, I was an idiot).
  16. For televised sports. Even today, I hold special memories of A. B. C’s. Monday Night Football (back when it was like a mini-Super Bowl each week) and the Saturday game of the week. And Pat Summerall telling everyone to watch Murder……….She Wrote.
  17. For Galway Market. I didn’t know it at the time, but that job was one of the best I ever had. It was like working at Cheers, but in real life. It was a lot of fun and I wish I’d realized it then.
  18. For discovering that there is life after high school. Really cool and abundant life. It was kind of scary at the time, but it was the first time my world got bigger. It wouldn’t be the last.
  19. For radio. I have never had more fun at work then when I was on the air. WGFR, WSCG (Country 93), WKOL, WCSS, and WBZA. That was, I think, my first, best destiny, and I was glad I got to do it.
  20. For the friends I made at my three colleges. Jane Lundgren, Ray Anderson, Carrie Ruby, Larry Miller, Janine Sorrell, Kevin Rock, Dan DeYoung, Jennifer Sears, Deanna DeBrine, Katie Talmage, and others I’ve probably forgotten and lost track of along the way.
  21. For the family dinners. They were a high point of the year and it was really cool of my grandmother to seed the money required to start it. I know that over the years that money’s been added to, and the memories of them will always be special.
  22. For getting out in the world and starting on my own. It was the first step–and it was baby steps. It may have been playing the Father Justin Rosary Hour and announcing lost dogs and cats on Sunday afternoon. But it was awesome. And that time we filled up the CARLO (Bingo) tub with Gold Fish crackers…it was the best. Poor Lloyd Smith.
  23. For the 1986 New York Mets. The day I turned 23, I didn’t sleep the night before and then I didn’t make it to take the GREs because the clutch on my car went.  But I went up to Galway Market and had a birthday celebration and then Lenny Dykstra homered. Until later in life, that was the most fun I’d ever had watching baseball.
  24. For living in downtown Albany for a year. It was scary when fires started to happen in the apartment building I lived in, but it was a really cool place to live. The Ghetto Chopper, The Lark Tavern, the Ben and Jerry’s, McGeary’s, and the meatball sub place were also awesome.
  25. For discovering the writing of Robert B. Parker in Caldor at Crossgates Mall. I got my first Spenser because in it, he used the phrase “take a flying f— at a rolling donut,” which was a phrase my friend Dan used in a letter he wrote me once. It was love at first read.
  26. For Peg and Pat and the world they opened for me by allowing me to stay with them and learn how to program computers. If not for them, my life is so incredibly different as to be unrecognizable.
  27. For meeting my wife Laura at work. The QA woman. I actually caught hell, indirectly, for dating her. I think one of the guys I worked with thought I was beholden to her and slowing things down. Supposedly I gave in too easily to the QA demands because I was in love.
  28. For MusicFest in Bethlehem, PA. Always a fun way to wind down the summer.
  29. For all the people who helped make our wedding so amazing. I still hear what a great party it was, and I still have fond memories. Of most of it.
  30. For the blessing that came into my life with the birth of my daughter Jenny. She’s a truly amazing person, someone who has achieved and conquered things I can only imagine, and she’s still very young. She helped make me a better person.
  31. For my in-laws, two amazingly generous and giving people. I have never felt less than at home with them. They’ve made a huge difference in my life and the lives of everyone in my family.
  32. For the experience of living in Arizona. It’s still one of my favorite places and the home of the best pie in the entire world. I loved it out there, and though we only lived there a short time, it was a memorable time.
  33. For the experience of living in Chicago. Hated it while I lived there because the sun never, ever came out. But I met some incredible people there and became a horrible pizza snob–a trait I proudly retain to today.
  34. For the blessing that came into my life with my son Daniel. He’s an amazing young man who’s still figuring it out, as is proper for his age. But he’s gonna be amazing.
  35. For the experience of living in Florida. Holy cow, it’s hot here, but it’s the place where my children laid the foundation for their lives and became the people they are today. There are some many people here who’ve helped that happen that I can’t even imagine life without them.
  36. For my grandmother, the last of my grandparents to die. Even into my thirties, she always made me feel special.
  37. For the Internet, which has made it possible for me to connect with and get to know so many amazing people.
  38. For the experience of being laid off. It was horrible and made me pretty much lose faith in everything. I know I made it harder than it had to be, but we got through it and it started to open my eyes in so many ways.
  39. For the people who helped me and my family through the experience of being laid off. You never really understand how incredibly generous people are until you need them.
  40. For my current employer. I don’t mention that stuff by name here, but I can’t help but be thankful. I work hard and earn my keep, but there are so many things I take for granted there. Because they chose to employ me, I can do a lot of amazing things for my family and other people.
  41. For the 2004 Boston Red Sox, who helped me to believe that just because things have been a certain way for a long time, they don’t have to be that way. Also, they embarrassed the Yankees.
  42. For the Florida Writer’s Association, which have helped me along in this craft and put me in position to be successful in the future.
  43. For Cub Scouting and Boy Scouting, which have helped my son learn things he doesn’t even know he knows right now, and have helped him become the person he is.
  44. For synchronized swimming, which taught my daughter the value of working at something and getting better at it. It taught her lessons that have spurred a lot of her growth to today.
  45. For the new things I’ve tried over the years, that I never thought I would like. For instance, a Cuban sandwich, which is as amazing at the Mexican food in Phoenix and the pizza in Chicago and the chili at Hard Times Cafe around DC.
  46. For the people who’ve given me second, third, and so-on chances through the years. Thank you. And I hope that I can do the same for others.
  47. For finding my fitness. Holy cow, I can’t imagine life without the things I’ve accomplished and learned through that. I’ve brought it, dug deep, did my best, and forgotten the rest.
  48. For Tough Mudder. I love the pledge and it’s also helped me to realize how much I can still accomplish. And I’ve gotten some really cool t-shirts.
  49. For my writerly friends who helped me believe I wasn’t just pretending and still do.
  50. For the people I work with, and they know who they are, who have re-enforced the fact that hell is the place where you don’t need any help.
  51. For my current church, which is really amazing in its message and outreach. When we left the previous place, it felt like a gaping hole. Now I see it for the blessing it was. It’s been great.

To limit this to 51 is to exclude a lot of things that should be here, but this was an amazing exercise.

My $22 standing desk

The science has been out there for a few years now: sitting down for long stretches of time is bad for you. How bad? The conventional saying is that sitting is the new smoking. The health hazards of sitting down have been chronicled in just about everywhere, from mainstream news sources to periodicals aimed at fit people.

If you sit for large periods of time, you’re at increased risk for a number of health issues–not to mention keeping some of that girth around the middle you might be trying to lose.

You can do a number of things to reduce your risk, such as getting up once an hour, stretching, walking down to the person you were about to send an email. You can also get a standing desk–which is exactly what it says: a desk at which you stand up.

The desk itself isn’t cheap. It could set you back $200-$300. You can pick up a laptop stand to put on your desk for less than $50. The one I selected allowed me to create a standing desk for $22.

First, I bought a laptop stand at IKEA. My original was a Dave stand, which I accidentally broke when I punched it doing P90X3 MMX. (D’oh!)

I replaced it with a Svartasen laptop stand ($22). We have an IKEA store in Tampa, so it was easy to drive over an pick one up. It’s adjustable, so I make sure it’s the perfect height. I use a second monitor, so I grabbed a folding tray for that. Most days, when I work at home, I stand all day.

2014-08-31 15.09.09

Sometimes I have a lot of calls and might want to sit a little, so I bought a $45 stool from Wal-Mart. If I need to sit all day, I can simply remove the tray and the laptop stand.

Is it stable?

Yes. If I’m working at home for several days at a time, I keep my laptop on the stand all the time. It has never given way–that is, when I don’t accidentally punch it.

What’s it like to stand all day?

The first day you try it, you’ll probably hate it. It was a distraction at first, but once I got used to it, I don’t mind at all. In fact, I like moving around. One benefit is the ability to play music from Spotify and move a little while I’m working. And there’s the stool for long calls. Overall, it’s better for my health than sitting, breaks down easily, and it’s easily affordable.