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Not flippant at all. I don't disagree with your advice, unless it's to be taken as some axiomatic truth for all first-time workers. Your experience does not jive with mine—that's cool, man. I have no doubt that what you're saying is true in your experience and in your industry.
You gonna discount my perspective because isn't doesn't gel with yours? Or perhaps accept that very rarely can you give a piece of broad spectrum advice that perfectly suits all people in all environments. And yes, that was a strong reaction to a posting on an internet forum—I'm a bit bemused by it to be perfectly honest.
- As a veteran of 30 years in offices around the world, please go into your job with the motto "Big ears, Small mouth."
Mostly listen. Talk little.
Unless you work in a creative industry, do any sort of client servicing, problem solving, researching, or project planning. In which case, not talking makes people think "why are we paying this guy."
2. Go diving/fishing a lot more
3. Explore ways to live more sustainably. Share my experiences with others.
5. Buy dog. Walk dog.
7. Be more available. I'd love to be able to help people with whatever at the drop of a hat.
I'm from Auckland too. I guess my experience has been biased by the fact that I'm only six or so years out of high school. All of my friends have bought secondhand, and the majority seem to be manuals. Most new vehicles (and newer secondhand vehicles) do seem to be autos though so I guess the manual fleet is getting slowly replaced.
Same thing in New Zealand. Most people buy manuals. Also, the secondhand vehicle market seems to be much more robust in NZ than the US which explains a preference for manuals as they tend to age a lot better and are easier to service or work on yourself.
I was talking to an American cousin a while back and he explained that in his state secondhand vehicles were impractical because the salt used on the roads in the winter drastically reduces the lifespan of any given vehicle.
I've owned both and, in the long run, my auto ended up costing me a lot more in terms of servicing and parts replacements.
I'm gonna go with the first things that spring to mind:
The bible. Or maybe just the gospels, and genesis through to the end of 2 Chronicles (skipping leviticus and numbers).
Paul Simon's Graceland.
The Brothers Karamazov.
Bowie's greatest hits.
The land before time.
LOTR. books and films.
Chronicles of Narnia. just the books.
I definitely identify with this. For me a huge motivating factor is the embarrassment of letting people down, so I need to put myself in situations where I'm accountable to other people. Otherwise I stagnate. When nobody is relying on me directly, I struggle to get anything done. When I have somebody waiting for me to finish a job on Wednesday and I'll look ridiculous if I don't deliver, suddenly I'm super motivated. Consequently I've learned to structure my work life/social life/general goals in such a way that I'm always accountable.
I'm Max. I'm enjoying being 24. Life's cool, I'm trying not to overthink it. I'm not an artist but I like making things and I probably make something new every other day. I just made a pineapple smoothie—that probably doesn't count but it was delicious. Felt like art going down.
It's cool when your travels coincide with a piece of history. I was in Jakarta when Jokowi took office last year, also in Cleveland when Lebron made The Decision and they tore down that massive "We are all witnesses" poster downtown (lol). And I visited Borobudur the day after ISIS threatened to blow it up (more worrying than cool).
Fellow pinterest-using dude. It's fantastic for making inspiration boards when you're working on something creative. Like when I was designing my sister's wedding invites, I made a board called "wedding invites" and pinned a whole bunch of shit I thought was cool until I had a clearer idea of what look I was after. I have that extension that lets me pin stuff from all around the web when I'm browsing, it's awesome to have an ever-expanding catalogue of creative/inspirational bookmarks.
- Several days later Murray asked me about a tourist attraction known as the most photographed barn in America. We drove 22 miles into the country around Farmington. There were meadows and apple orchards. White fences trailed through the rolling fields. Soon the sign started appearing. THE MOST PHOTOGRAPHED BARN IN AMERICA. We counted five signs before we reached the site. There were 40 cars and a tour bus in the makeshift lot. We walked along a cowpath to the slightly elevated spot set aside for viewing and photographing. All the people had cameras; some had tripods, telephoto lenses, filter kits. A man in a booth sold postcards and slides -- pictures of the barn taken from the elevated spot. We stood near a grove of trees and watched the photographers. Murray maintained a prolonged silence, occasionally scrawling some notes in a little book.
"No one sees the barn," he said finally.
A long silence followed.
"Once you've seen the signs about the barn, it becomes impossible to see the barn."
He fell silent once more. People with cameras left the elevated site, replaced by others.
"We're not here to capture an image, we're here to maintain one. Every photograph reinforces the aura. Can you feel it, Jack? An accumulation of nameless energies."
There was an extended silence. The man in the booth sold postcards and slides.
"Being here is a kind of spiritual surrender. We see only what the others see. The thousands who were here in the past, those who will come in the future. We've agreed to be part of a collective perception. It literally colors our vision. A religious experience in a way, like all tourism."
Another silence ensued.
"They are taking pictures of taking pictures," he said.
He did not speak for a while. We listened to the incessant clicking of shutter release buttons, the rustling crank of levers that advanced the film.
"What was the barn like before it was photographed?" he said. "What did it look like, how was it different from the other barns, how was it similar to other barns?"
—White Noise, Don Delillo