Thursday, August 25, 2016

Signing off on signatures

Our paperboy Daniel delivered more than the newspaper the other week. He brought to our front door an opportunity for my 14-year-old son Tavish. It was an opportunity to earn some money by taking over Daniel's paper route.

Tav has asked me on more than one occasion about getting a paper route. He has a buddy who delivers the newspaper and it's a good way for a young kids to earn some cash. And if he's earning his own money then guess who Tav won't be coming to with his hand out? Me!

A few days later Tav was called into my office for training. I say, ‘my office’ because I work at the newspaper in the newsroom. Now two of us will be earning a living dealing in newsprint.

I accompanied Tav to the training session and at the end of it he had to sign a contract. He carefully printed his name where it asked for a signature.

I found it strange he couldn’t sign his name but then I thought about it and it made sense. Kids these days are not taught handwriting in school. They learn how to print but handwriting is something they are never required to use so they’re not taught it. Assignments are typed, emails are typed and text messages are … you guessed it … typed.

As a result, kids have also never had to sign their names. A signature is just you writing your name. If you have never learned handwriting how could you have ever learned to sign your own name?

The other night Tav saw me writing in my journal. I’ve been doing this since I was his age and when I started journaling a computer was something few of us knew about and even fewer used.

I asked him if he could read anything I had on the page. He looked at the writing and asked what a few of the words were. Then he asked me why it looked that way.

“How do you read that stuff?” he said.

“This is handwriting,” I said.

Tav just looked at me with a “so what” expression on his face.

I understand computers have taken over the world. There are three laptops in my house, I use a laptop at work and when anyone wants to kick back and relax we typically use one of our iPads. We use keyboards for all our writing so there’s really little, if any need for us to use handwriting these days.

It just struck me funny my son did not know how to write his name. It’s just a sign(nature) of the times I guess. Or maybe I’m just showing my age.

I may sound like an old man but back in my day someone who couldn't sign their name was considered illiterate. Now we all have digital signatures. Pen at hand has made way for keyboard at fingertips.




Lubrication works, just ask my locksmith

Lubrication can open many doors in life.

I am NOT a handyman. I cannot build or repair anything. When God was handing out talents I got in the wrong line. My talent was patience, something that would come into play when I discovered I had to pay people to fix things I couldn't.

When you're growing up it's not always apparent what your talents in life will be. For some people it's clear but for others, like me, it was muddy.

It was clear for my best friend. He could sell anything from a very young age. But I didn't think that was a talent when I was nine. Now he's living in a mansion, beautiful home, wife and family and I see what a God given talent he received. He was also gifted with a relentless work ethic and a desire to succeed and the results speak for themselves.

But when we were young 'talent' was just a word.

Which brings me to the other day when I discovered my house key would not fit in the front door lock. It would go three quarters of the way in and then jam. I tried the spare key. Same result. I tried my wife's key. Same result. Kids' keys. No go. I looked at the lock and thought, "Is this even my house?" The dog looking up at me with the sad hound eyes told me it was indeed my humble abode.

I have no experience fixing locks. I know how to open a lock and close a lock. Period. When one refuses to open I have no choice, I have to call a locksmith. And so I did.

The guy who showed up at my front door was personable and nice. I showed him the lock, he looked it over, poked at it with his lock picking device and then he reached into his bag of tricks and pulled out a small bottle of WD40.

Squirt, squirt. He put my house key into the lock and it went all the way in. He turned it to the right, then the left. Problem solved.

"I hope you're not too upset," he said. "Some people can't believe they have to pay for a house call for something so simple. It's just the tumblers. They needed lubrication."

I wasn't upset. As I said before my talent in life is patience because God knew I'd need it to live so long and be this stupid!

I paid the guy $90 for the life lesson. Lubricate your locks twice a year and they'll never give you a problem.

My wife came home a few hours later. She was very happy the lock worked. When I told her my WD40 story she shook her head in disbelief.

"I thought I'd asked you if you tried that?"

If she had asked me that question I may not have understood its purpose. But I admit, I don't recall such a conversation. Lubrication was never something I associated with locks!

Trust me though, lubrication works. Just ask my locksmith...