Historical March 1993 article. Dates, prices, services and contacts describe the source period; current availability has not been established.
I was at a meeting today and I heard the speaker say that the problem of the 90’s, the REAL problem of the 90’s, is “time deprivation.” Boy, when I heard this, bells rang! Time deprivation. Not enough time. Too much to do. Too many things to be done. Time deprivation.
There simply aren’t enough hours in the day. And then shortly after that I was chatting with a colleague.
She said that she’d joined a health club. “That’s great,” I said, “what caused you to start working out?” I asked. “It’s just wonderful,” she replied, “I can read my mail while I ride the stationary bike. And if I finish going through my mail, I can read the paper while exercising.” Of course, while she and I were having this conversation, I was thinking of what I needed to do when I returned to work. And I was cagily looking around the room to see who else I knew and where I ought to be “networking.” And she was probably thinking of something else too. It’s not that we weren’t interested in one another, but we were trying to save time. Talking to one another, just doing one thing, doesn’t cut it anymore.
As I write this column, I am sitting in a plane on a runway at Chicago’s Midway Airport People are still boarding. (By the way, and this is a topic for a future “In Your Ear”, no one, absolutely no one, is carrying the appropriate number of bags. Everyone is squeezing down the aisle with their hands full, carrying “carry-on” baggage that is far too big to be carried on.
Most folks are carrying on luggage and packages that would give a skycap a double hernia.) Anyway, I’m absolutely delighted to be sitting here in a plane, writing away on my IBM notebook computer. Every minute that I can write now is a minute that I’ll have for some other labor-saving device at home. And why is the flight packed like sardines? Because 100+ other people want to save time and fly 600 miles to St. Louis in 48 minutes rather than spend six hours driving on the pavement. I’ve got to hurry up so I can save some time.
I don’t know why time is so much more elusive than it used to be. Oh sure, it’s easy to say that the 80’s and 90’s are more pressure-packed and fast-paced than earlier times.
I believe that, but is it really true?
If we could get in a time capsule with Scott Backula and go back to the 40’s or 50’s, were they really that much more casual? Didn’t they think they were busy then?
If you doubt it, consider this question: In twenty years, won’t people think of the 90’s as a relaxed era?
In 1956 we didn’t have personal computers, car phones, microwave ovens, Nintendo, FAX machines, photocopiers, instant coffee makers, portable phones, digital watches and beepers, VCRs, or FM radio.
There were only three television channels, and most of the country didn’t even have all of them. Airplanes still had propellers and the majority of folks had never flown.
But were they, the times and folks of the 50’s, really that much slower? Did that much less get done?
I don’t think so.
For all of our progress, for all of our ability to do things faster, I’m not sure that we really get that much more done. I’m even less sure that what gets done gets done better.
I can remember a decade or so when I got my fast computer.
I made all of these plans for what I’d do with the time that it saved me. Well, surprise of surprises, having a personal computer really didn’t save me any time at all.
I wrote more memos, I wrote longer memos. And I wrote more longer memos.
My computer didn’t save me any time, and it cost my readers quite a bit.
Now they had longer memos to read, and more of them. And the quality of my memos? Well, one big advantage is that the stuff that I write on computers can be read.
My handwriting has always resembled the marks made by a chicken which stepped in ink and walked across paper, so typewritten comments are a big improvement.
But I’m begging the issue: Did my memos improve?
I think not.
I still tend to be, according to my editors, both in The Times of Skinker-DeBaliviere and at work, wordy and a bit recondite. And then the first wife and I bought a microwave for the kitchen. (This was less of an extravagance than you might think.
A few months earlier we found out that our stove had a broken gas line, and decided not to repair it, choosing to simply seal the line instead.
It was much cheaper, and given our home eating habits – subsisting largely on bagels, cereal, Domino’s pizza, and Hostess cupcakes — it was really no problem. Anyway, I can remember driving home from Tipton Electronics store with the microwave in the back seat.
The wife ripped open the box with glee and read aloud the possibilities: “We can bake a potato in thret minutes!” she yelled. “Get this, it will reheat a cup of coffee in 60 seconds.” I hit the horn with excitement. “And look,” she ‘shrieked, “We can cook a pot roast in 30 minutes.” It was more than I could handle. What ever would we do with all of that extra time? Alas, the microwave, to put it mildly, was not a great success.
First, we never really figured out how to work it. Oh, we know how to set the timer and press “cook,” but that’s it.
There are a zillion little controls and buttons that we’ve never had the time to learn how to use. Too bad, they could save us more time. Second, we don’t eat red meat; heck, we don’t even eat brown meat.
We never ate pot roasts before and we wouldn’t be eating them now even if we were eating red meat, If pot roasts were green meat, we wouldn’t eat them. Who can wait 30 minutes to eat? So we use our microwave for the iddy-biddy things that can be done with two buttons.
We dethaw frozen bagels, we reheat coffee, we make microwave popcorn, and we occasionally splurge and spend three minutes to make a Lean Cuisine. And what do we do with all of this EXTRA time?
I don’t know; as soon as I get a chance, I’ll give it some thought. So we’ve established that I, like you I’m sure, don’t have enough time. And how do I respond.to this time deficit?
I pick up my pace a bit, and that’s not all good.
I try to do more in less time.
For example, my attention span isn’t what it used to be, that’s for sure (and it never was too good to begin with). I’m forever having a conversation with someone and thinking of something eLse that I should be doing or, maybe, composing a memo in my head. And having a remote button on my TV doesn’t help either. I’ve become addicted, not to any particular program, but to bumping.through the channels.
I love to watch the tube, but now with cable I probably average 30 seconds per show.
It takes me a couple of minutes to go from Channel 2 to Channel 50, then I start over again.
I never get the essence of what anything is about, I don’t understand the plot or the characters, but that’s OK.
It fits my attention span. (Heck, as I write this I’m remembering a breakfast I had in which I started watching the City parking meter revenue collectors while talking to someone.
She was not pleased with my distractedness.) I carry a small yellow piece of paper to write the myriad of thoughts that come and go while I’m doing something else.
Then I transcribe my cryptic messages to narratives on my computer. Boy, look at all of the time that I’ve saved Life is more complex, there’s no doubt about that. And I truly believe that we have to run harder to catch up.
But is running harder — or earlier in the morning — the answer? I’m now starting at 5:40 am. instead of 5:50 am. but I sure don’t feel the luxury of those extra ten minutes. Does running harder get us any place better or, even, get us there faster?
I think not. So what to do? We’re all in the same race, running in circles and chasing a plastic carrot. And the faster we go, the faster the carrot goes. And the faster the carrot goes, the faster that we go. Enough, I say. Let’s stop the whirling carousal and get off.
It doesn’t need to be this way if we don’t want it to.
We can control our fate if only we will be strong about it.
I can see you now, dear reader, leaning forward and looking for THE ANSWER. And I, Hawkeye, will share three tiny tips to help you slow your pace a bit No, they won’t be timesavers, there are enough of those already. Timesavers are like sales; I can’t afford to go to another sale and I don’t have enough time to engage in a time-saver.
These tips are what I call “Smell the roses” suggestions. (1) Get up a bit early each morning.
Now I realize that this may not be something that appeals to you. I, too, treasure every spare moment in the rack.
But there’s something to be said for getting up 15-20 minutes early and puttering around. Especially if no one else is awake and you have the house to yourself. You’d be amazed how much you can get done. And even if you don’t DO anything, this extra swatch of time will give you a more relaxed start for whatever chaos awaits you. (2) Create some silent time during the day. Sometimes I even schedule a meeting during the day, writing a cryptic notes on the calendar, when I really have nothing scheduled. No one else will sign up to see me then, and I’ll have 20-30 minutes to myself.
I tell my trusty secretary to “hold my calls,” and I can do a little catching up on reading or creative thinking.
A similar strategy is what I call “The Hat In The House” approach. Gather all of the family members and tell them that when you’re wearing this certain hat inside, it means that they should not talk to you; they should leave you alone and pretend you’re not there. It’s not the same as sitting alone by Walden Pond, but it’s better than nothing.
The important thing is to give yourself time to reflect, slow the pace a bit, and savor life. (3) Get a portable Casio “Wizard” notebook. See, there are these new Casio electronic notebooks, maybe three by five inches. You can enter phone numbers, schedules, recipes, birthdays, whatever in them. They’ll hold up to 24 “million” bytes of data. By having all of this information with you wherever you go, think of all the time that you can save! You won’t need to ever check with home or work when you’re someone else.
Some of them, in fact, have this attachment where you can punch in a name and hold the computer by the mouthpiece of your phone, and, get this, the number gets dialed automatically. Think of what you can do with all of those extra seconds.
If this doesn’t appeal to you, you might want to consider getting a FAX installed in your car or buying a combination toasterNCRJyard fertilizer. Why the possibilities here are endless. Think of all the time that you’ll be able so save. By the way, I’m sorry that this column is so long, I didn’t have the time to make it shorter.
Originally published in The Times of Skinker-DeBaliviere, March 1993.
Read this article in the original newspaper issue.
Original source: SD_Times1993_03.pdf, printed page(s) 8; PDF page(s) 8.
