Thus I considered all my activities which my hands had done and the labor which I had exerted, and behold all was vanity and striving after wind and there was no profit under the sun.
Think About It
Yesterday I participated in a Task Force meeting, one of three Task Forces I have the dubious pleasure of serving on. This meeting was billed as the “Kickoff meeting” for that particular Task Force, which in and of itself sounded ominous to me.
During the meeting, the lady in charge kept telling us, “I want you to think about this,” and “I’?m not saying this is the only way to do it. Come up with new ideas.” But she never stopped talking long enough for us to actually think about anything! Instead she filled the whole meeting with her rather loud, overpowering voice, so that afterwards I felt completely steamrolled and unable to think even the tiniest bit creatively.
In My Place
At the bike shop on Saturday, they asked lots of questions about my riding habits — how far did I commute by bike? did I take long rides on the weekend for fun? etc. — and helped me gauge what kind of bike I should get based on that. Chatting with them, though, one gal mentioned that she had ridden from Natick, while the guy helping me commented that he routinely commuted 20 miles by bike. They referred to my six-mile commute as “your little 20-minute ride.” I kept my mouth shut about how long it takes me (more than twenty minutes!) and felt appropriately humbled.