Dear J-
Back in San Diego; something — whether it’s the weather, relief, hugging figgy, or the two Tylenol — has finally erased the headache I woke up with this morning. Of course, it didn’t help that I demonstrated that I could still stay up past midnight, given the right incentive (unfortunately, I don’t think there’s a category for marathon crap-sitcom watching; otherwise, I’m your man). It’s just that sense of displacement again: I woke up this morning driving a Mustang, and now I’m back at home just a few hours later, looking forward to resolving all the e-mail that must have piled up.
I did manage to feel at least reasonably technical during the audit; you spend enough time wrestling with the calculations and it starts to make sense. Methodology, numbers … although to be honest, I’m not sure that I would have been able to come up with some of the same approaches to the calculation issues. It’s interesting, though, that of the things I learned on the trip, the most important was learning about the supplier himself: just one guy, with rented warehouse space, supplying to the nuclear industry; he’s responsible for design and program controls. It can be done with one person.
Last night I begged off going to PF Chang’s (the first time we went, I leaned over to theVet and stage whispered that it was just tarted-up American Chinese food) and went to my Aunt’s house instead. Granted, what I had there wasn’t any more authentic (take-and-bake Philly Cheesesteak), but I’m finding that I’m turning into my parents: I want to talk to adults and find out about the history of my family. I didn’t know that we had twins in the family; I didn’t know how overlapped the generations have been (not just my dad growing up with his uncle, but also my aunt growing up alongside her nephew). It’s a greedy feeling, getting to know more of your history: suddenly the world starts to make more sense.
Mike
Dear J- 