This is one of my favorite songs featuring five legends.
I didn’t know until recently that the guys in the band had taken on the name of a fictional (?) Wilbury.
Here’s something else that I wish I’d written. This time from/by Fred Wilson:
For every negative thought, there is a positive counter thought. If you don’t like the Celtics, maybe you like the Knicks. If you don’t like Trump, maybe you like Biden. If you don’t like Bitcoin, maybe you like Ethereum. It is a pretty simple move, and also a very powerful move, to focus on what you like versus what you don’t like.
Doing this not only can change how others feel about you, it can change how you feel about yourself. I highly recommend it. I hope it becomes a trend. We would all be happier and nicer. Social media would be tolerable. Life would be better.
I believe it was 1997, I was not yet in my 30s, but close, when I noticed my friend and coworker Mark writing away on his Mac PowerBook’s puny screen with giant letters screaming on the Word doc.
Madness.
The display was maybe 12 inches-ish and seemed large enough to do my work without much trouble, at least that I can remember. For Mark, it was a no brainer. He couldn’t make out the 12-point type, so he made it larger. Then, when he got a monitor — which at the time was the size of two stacked microwave ovens — he bumped it up a few more point sizes.
Here I am, a quarter century later, and well, well, well … look who has a Word document staring back at him from his 27″ iMac.
Not only that, it’s zoomed to 160% scale and I’m tapping out words in 16-point Calibri.
While I was at it, I made the default zoom on my web browsers 120% (anything bigger things janky), and have the second-largest type in my notes and mail apps. I don’t dig the big type when working on a 13-inch laptop but I endure it because this is the price we pay for aging.
Oh, I changed the settings on my iPhone and iPad too and I make it bold too.
I wish I had made the full transition to a world of big type a long time ago.
If you decide to fiddle with your computer and phone settings, here’s a loosely related tune to keep you company.
Unlike the last post on the topic of grudges, this one offers a differing view courtesy of Seth Godin:
Holding a grudge means that our hands are too full to do our best work.
Dang it. He’s probably right.
The Post Office has always amazed me. Less than a dollar to send a letter from Arizona to Maine?
Thanks to the availability of tracking numbers, I’m addicted to watching the progress of packages I’ve sent or I’m awaiting.
Occasionally, this is an exercise in head-scratching.
Last week, for example, I sold a small item on eBay and mailed it, first class, in a 4×6 padded envelope, to a buyer less than 30 miles away.
I dropped it in the mail on Friday, in time for pickup by my neighborhood mail carrier. My guess was that it would be delivered the next day, or Tuesday at latest given Monday was a holiday.
Instead, it went from Phoenix to Los Angeles (!) for two days and then to Denver (!!) for a day and a half. If the Post Office site is to be believed, the package is out for delivery this morning.
Far be it from me to tell the Post Office how to run its business, but six days, $3.76 and 2,313 miles* to deliver a package less than 30 miles away should probably not be marketed as First-Class Delivery.
*For what it’s worth, driving distance from Phoenix to Bangor, Maine, is 2,935 miles.
Mike McClary 