For the Great How-Far-Can-You-Drive-North-Expedition — I found the vehicle in Chatham over the weekend while looking for hurricane mayhem. I present the Unimog:
(how far can you drive north? appears this is the highway to nowhere, The Trans-Taiga HighwayÂ
I received the results of my MBTI (Myers-Briggs Type Indicator) yesterday. Forbes had me take the test in 1995, but I forgot what I was, and realized I should have remembered when my McKinsey weenie-colleagues cited their four-letter indicator like freshmen nerds boasting about their SAT scores.
I am now a confirmed ENFP — according to the results:
“ENFPs are enthusiastic, insightful, innovative, versatile, and tireless in pursuit
of new possibilities. They enjoy working on teams to bring about change related to making things better for people. Although the descriptors below generally describe ENFPs, some may not fit you exactly due to individual differences within each type.
Sounds like the output of a self-administered personality survey or a profile on Match.com. According to a quick Google search, ENFP is nicknamed the “Champion” type of the 16 MBTI profiles. Wikipedia has an entry, which says:
“ENFPs are initiators of change who are keenly perceptive of possibilities, and who energize and stimulate through their contagious enthusiasm. They prefer the start-up phase of a project or relationship, and are tireless in the pursuit of new-found interests. ENFPs are able to anticipate the needs of others and to offer them needed help and appreciation. They bring zest, joy, liveliness, and fun to all aspects of their lives. They are at their best in situations that are fluid and changing, and that allow them to express their creativity and use their charisma. They tend to idealize people, and can be disappointed when reality fails to fulfill their expectations. They are easily frustrated if a project requires a great deal of follow up or attention to detail.”
There, I feel different already.
Whatever happened at 2 AM Sunday in terms of clock adjustments — daylight standard time or daylight savings time — fall forward, spring back, was moot around here. No power. No clocks. It smacks of government intervention and interference with the natural order of things.
To wit: I get up at o’dark-thirty in any event and will continue to get up at dark o’clock, my Protestant Work Ethic Guilt compelling me to pluck the terrier off of my face and shuffle barefoot down the quahog shell driveway to find the blue-bagged New York Times.
Who can sleep late? Why do my teenagers have the capacity to sleep non-stop, for days at a time, when I can barely get in an honest six hours. Who cares? Early is good.
The Canadian novelist Robertson Davies wrote:
“I don’t really care how time is reckoned so long as there is some agreement about it, but I object to being told that I am saving daylight when my reason tells me that I am doing nothing of the kind. I even object to the implication that I am wasting something valuable if I stay in bed after the sun has risen. As an admirer of moonlight I resent the bossy insistence of those who want to reduce my time for enjoying it. At the back of the Daylight Saving scheme I detect the bony, blue-fingered hand of Puritanism, eager to push people into bed earlier, and get them up earlier, to make them healthy, wealthy and wise in spite of themselves.” (The Diary of Samuel Marchbanks, 1947, XIX, Sunday.)”
The biggest let down of Google’s announcement is not in the substance of their offering. Opening an API to developers and handset manufacturers in the hope of establishing a better phone OS and application environment is correct and proper for a company of Google’s ubiquity and technical prowess … but where the world got a little underwhelmed is in the false hope that Google would release some advertising subsidized “free-phone” and chop the legs out from underneath the dickhead carriers with their indentured servitude calling plans, onerous SMS charges, and locked phones.
Not happening in this round. Just an effort to undo the WAP, Symbian, DoCoMo, PocketPC, Palm mess and rally the little screen around something appropriately Googlish.
You called me on Saturday wanting a refund on the operating system because you did not agree with the EULA. Please mail me, I haven’t seen anything yet.