A Firm Handshake and an Easy Smile
My Grandfather passed away this morning. My grandmother asked all the grandchildren to think of memories of him to share at his funeral. I have so many memories. I wanted to share a few of them with you, to tell you about a man who had such a huge impact on my life.
Firesides and Fishing Lures
I was fortunate enough to grow up knowing all four of my Grandparents. My childhood was filled with visiting them at their homes, or visiting them at their campsite where all of us spent each Memorial Day and Labor Day weekend. J. Walter Hackman was my mother’s dad, and some of the strongest memories I have of him are from those camping trips.
Grandpop loved camping. He had a silver Airstream at the campsite all summer and he and Grammy would make frequent weekend trips there. Inside the camper there were beds, tables, and it felt like a small apartment, but if you stepped outside you’d see picnic table and his fishing poll leaning against it and a row of perfectly stacked logs placed a few feet away from the fire pit.
I remember riding my bike down to his campsite and seeing him standing at the chopping block splitting a log into kindling to feed into the fire. He’d hear me turn into his lot and would look up, smile and wave me over. He showed me how to place the logs in the pit to make sure they started burning the quickest, and how if you removed the bark from pine before placing it in the fire you wouldn’t get as much smoke.
I remember him walking up to my families campsite, tacklebox in hand, to take my brothers and I fishing. Grandpop loved fishing, but I think he liked taking us fishing more. We’d walk down to the lake and he would show us the perfect way to put the worm on the hook and he’d toss the line into the water until we were old enough to do it ourselves.
We never caught much fishing with Grandpop. When I went fishing by myself, or with my dad, we’d toss the line into the middle of the lake and wait for a curious fish to take the bait, but this took too long for my grandfather. As soon as the bait hit the water he’d start reeling it back in. While this might work for some fish, it wasn’t the best way to catch trout, but he didn’t care. He loved the act of fishing, of sitting on a bench with his kids and grandkids just enjoying the outside with them.
My grandfather was one of the hardest workers I’ve ever known but he always took time for his family and he knew how to relax. Whether it was relaxing at their campsite, going on one of his frequent vacations with my grandmother, or just cooking hotdogs on his grill at home, grandpop knew how to have a good time.
Service is the rent we pay…
In his office, Grandpop had a plaque with one of his favorite sayings. “Service is the rent we pay for out stay here on earth.” He had a lot of favorite sayings, but I think I heard him say this one more than any other. To Grandpop, serving others wasn’t an option. It was as natural to him as taking a walk or breathing.
Whether it was volunteering with a prison mission, or giving away something to a customer in need who came to his store, Grandpop loved helping people. He did it quietly though, never making a big deal of it. I didn’t know about his involvement in the prison ministry until someone mentioned it has his 60th wedding anniversary.
He taught me that service was an act of joy, not obligation, that helping others was something you just DID and not something you had to plan out and account for. He founded a church, worked in a prison ministry, and would always be there to lend an ear and offer advice to anyone who needed it.
Service was such a big part of his life, but I can’t pin down a single story to write about here. Service was who he was, and his whole life is that story.
Success Has No Business Hours
My grandfather was a brilliant businessman, and he started at a very early age. I remember him showing me accounting ledgers from when he was twelve years old and selling peanuts up and down the streets of his hometown, where he neatly listed the costs and profits of each day. He showed me box after box of ledgers where he wrote down each detail throughout his entire life.
He was an entrepreneur. His first “real” business was an old truck he drove around the farmhouses in southern PA as a “Bookstore to your door.” Where he would sell bibles, school supplies, and other items to people who might not be able to make it into the “City” to go shopping.
This mobile bookstore eventually became Hackman’s Bible Bookstore, which grew into the largest independently owned Christian Bookstore on the east coast, one that won the “Christian bookstore of the year” award multiple times before my Grandfather sold the company to my Uncle and “retired.”
The favorite part of the store for him was the Bible Counter where he helped sell hundreds or thousands of bible’s to customers, showing them the different translations (His favorite was the Living Bible) and just getting to know his customers.
He had a mind for business, but he was successful because he had a heart for his customers. He loved getting to know people, not just to pitch them something, but because he loved talking to them. Grandpop loved to know everyone he could, and he’d remember the details you gave him.
From him, I learned the importance of getting to know people as people. In a business world dominated by metrics, efficiency, and things like “Average ticket.” Grandpop seemed more concerned about how a customer’s family was doing, and that’s why so many people loved him.
Reflections
Watching him go was hard. At the end they had him on Oxygen and every breath was a struggle. We were with him last night until almost midnight, singing hymns and telling stories about all of the things he did for us. When we got the call this morning saying he left us, my Aunt said that right before he went they stood around his bed singing his favorite hymn ‘He Lives.” At the end he was peaceful, and his breathing a little less labored. She said he raised his hand up into the air one last time and passed on. He left surrounded by his loved ones, and I don’t think he’d want it any other way.
He’s inspired me in so many ways and thinking back on his life, the strongest memories aren’t the ones of him in the hospital, battling Parkinson’s. My strongest memories of him are the bone-crushing handshakes he’d give, the smile on his face, and the image of him walking up the path to our campsite, tacklebox in hand.
Rest in Peace, J Walter Hackman. Your rent was paid in full.
Project Glass, Deus Ex, and the Future of Sharing
You said something about Star Trek?
One constant of a modern first person shooter is the HUD, or Heads Up Display. On a lot of games, it’s placed there mainly as a convenience and isn’t really used as part of the plot but just a convenience step on the part of the developer to get you the information you need to kill the bad guys. Some take it a bit further.
I recently played “Deus Ex: Human Revolution.” In it, you play the part of security expert Adam Jensen who nearly dies when the company he works for is attacked by unknown mercenaries. Thankfully his company (Sarif industries) specializes in Augmentation, where they blend technology with the human form. Thanks to the doctors, you become a sort of “Million Dollar Man” where you gain super speed, super strength and a nifty pair of shades. The epic Cinematic trailer can be viewed here.
Those shades give you your heads up display, which you can upgrade throughout the game to give you useful information (such as the ability to walk through walls or judge a persons emotional state). It was awesome. The HUD existed to give you information when you needed it, but you didn’t have to worry about annoying things blocking you from the action. It didn’t take you into a “virtual reality” but it augmented your current reality.
With the unveiling of Google Glass today, Google brings that awesome future one step closer to reality.
Star Wars: The Old Republic, A Players Perspective
Humble Beginnings
A few weeks ago, I made the comment over on Google+ that I was feeling oddly nostalgic about playing World of Warcraft (WoW). You see, I cancelled my subscription a bit under 2 years ago, but prior to that I played the game on and off for almost 4 years. If you’re not an MMO player, this might seem a little crazy to you–Who would play a video game for so long?
But for me, WoW wasn’t about the video game. Sure, I enjoyed completing quests, getting better gear, and other “game” activities, but the thing about MMO’s is that they are made (and destroyed) by their community. Unlike games like Skyrim, Mass Effect, and Dawn of War, I could interact with the other people playing WOW, and this interaction is one of the primary reasons myself (and so many others) played the game for so long. When I say I felt nostalgic for WoW, it was this community, not the game itself, that gave me pause.
The problem was, most of that “community” I left two years ago was gone. Some, like myself, had quit the game for good, moving onto others or finding another hobby to occupy their time. Others had transferred to other servers. If I started playing WoW again, I’d have to start over with a new community, and if I was going to do that, why not try a new game all together?
But Jason, the title says “Star Wars,” why are you talking about WoW?
I wanted to make it clear from the start of this ‘review’ where I was coming from. I’m not an avid MMO player. I know that sounds odd given that I played an MMO for so many years, but what I mean is that I haven’t played OTHER MMO’s so I can’t compare The Old Republic’s PVP system to Warhammer Online, or the economy to EVE. I’ll try and review this game on its own merits as much as possible, but comparisons to Warcraft might sneak in from time to time.
Now that I’ve got the disclaimer out of the way, join me after the break for the rest of the review.
Living in the Clouds: Two Weeks with a Chromebook
An Open Letter to Verizon
Tightening the belt
I’m a pretty big guy. If you ever met me in person, that would (most likely) be one of the first things that came to your mind. If you’re polite, you’ll write it off as me being “tall” or “big boned.” Both of which are true. At 6’1, I’m not the tallest person by any stretch, but I’m on the upper edge of “average” and I do have a rather large frame, enough so that a lot of people thought I played football in high school. But I’m also overweight, and if you’ve met me, you know this too.
Obesity is common in my family. My one uncle refers to it as the “Bauman bump.” and once I started putting on extra weight in middle school, I just accepted that I’d always be a “big guy” because it was in my genes. I didn’t understand what that meant, but it was an easy thing to tell myself. It’s true that Obesity (and the problems associated with it) are common in my family, but my weight gain has to do with my love of food and (largely) sedentary lifestyle moreso than any “bad genes.”
I’m not waiting till new years to do something about it.
Google Music and the Indie Artist
Today, Google finally took the Beta tag off of Google Music and brought song purchases to the platform, well, if you’re lucky enough to live in the USA. The region locking by content providers like EMI is a problem I’ll try and write about later. What I want to talk about is how this new service can be a boon for artists, particularly those without a record deal hoping to break into the market.
Before I dig into it, I want to state that I am NOT a recording artist of any stripe, nor am I involved in the music industry in any way but as a consumer. If I say something that’s not quite right, I apologize in advance. If you know the correct answer, let me know in a comment below.
Mind The Gap
I’ve been silent here of late. It’s not that I haven’t had anything to say, it’s just that I find myself largely without the time to say them.
For the past month, I’ve been in training Monday through Friday for my new job, and for the past two weeks, that training has me living in a hotel outside the state with only my phone and tablet for internet access. This lets me stay relatively up to date on the news and various tech announcements, but I can’t really respond to them until the weekend, and late opinions are almost worse than no opinions at all. I’m “offline” more than I’ve been for almost a year now, and I wanted to get my thoughts down on how that’s changed my perception of social networking, my ability to comment on news, and maybe just a little bit about coffee.
Silence
Today marks the tenth anniversary of 9/11, and our news casts, social media feeds, and even our daily conversation will be filled with people remembering the day, the people lost, and the response those actions cause (both negative and positive). Sadly, more than a few politicians and pundits will use it as a rallying cry to gain support for them in the polls, focusing on the hatred, fear, and rage many of us an still feel clearly if we think of the events for a few moments.
Because of that, I wasn’t sure if I would write this post. There are millions of people out there with a story from that day, and why add my sixteen year old (at the time) account of the attacks? I changed my mind sometime on the drive home from my brothers, as I sat thinking about that day and was struck about how much I remembered from it. My tale isn’t all that different from many others, but it’s mine.
Big Media should stop fighting the future.
Like a lot of people, I have a Netflix subscription that I watch content on almost more than I watch “Real” channels. I keep up to date with current TV by checking out the episodes on Hulu, or watching it on FiOS On Demand. It’s not that I “hate” watching real TV, but I can’t dictate my schedule by when my favorite shows are on, and in some cases (such as monday nights) I have two or more shows I follow playing at the same time. Modern media consumption doesn’t match with the “prime time” assumptions that big media operates under. When I start my new job, I’ll be working 12 hr shifts on a rotating schedule, so sitting down to watch any show for a whole season will be impossible.
That’s why I love things like Hulu and Netflix. They let me watch what I want on MY schedule, and I can pause something if I remember I forgot to pick up something for dinner. But there’s a problem. Big media is fighting this new viewing pattern tooth and nail, assuming that if they make content only accessible by sitting in front of your TV at 8PM on Monday nights, that more people will do it. They’re wrong.