We've all been in mind-bendingly boring meetings, technical sessions or other gatherings that seemed to go on forever. I can recall three- and four-hour municipal and school board meetings stretching well past midnight, while rival elected officials argued endlessly about postage, zoning and other hot topics. I remember a few salaried support staffers and news gatherers despairing that they'd ever get home, and my vision actually seeming to distort and warp, perhaps due to the sheer inertia and possible gravity well caused by the absolute lack of progress.
Conditions haven't been that bad for awhile, but there are always a few numbing reminders, and the signs are unmistakable. It usually begins with a few vague, unfocused statements about looking into something or maybe doing something else. This is typically followed by other participants repeating what's already been stated, and continuing to go round and round with zero substantive action happening. In the later stages, as the lack of momentum reaches full force, some witnesses have told me they catch themselves starting to look around for sharp objects—only symbolizing their desire to escape, I hope.
Naturally, I've always tried to avoid conveying these pointless situations because I'm usually assigned to gather and relay "news you can use."
If you've talked to me before, you already know I'm slightly obsessed with specifics. Whether it's illuminating statistics or other little details for captions or graphics, or epic case studies by generous and brave system integrators and end users, I'm always on the hunt for more.
I know that I routinely rant about the need for particulars, but lately, my condition seems to have grown more intense. I'm scrambling after details on more fronts than ever, and straining more aggressively against real and perceived obstacles.
But why? Well, I normally accept fuzzy thinking, nebulous statements and drawn-out meetings as a journalistic occupational hazards and the chaff I'm obligated to sort through to find the few nutritious grains of information I can pass on to my readers. However, the recent passing of my friend and editor Paul Studebaker and my mom, Dorothy Montague, just a few weeks ago apparently unhinged me a little more than I realized. Similar to many reporters, I've covered numerous deaths and related tragedies in many communities, and even started out writing obituaries and weddings. I thought I was well-prepared to accept these new losses, just as other people I've covered have done. However, my brain and subconscious obviously had other ideas.
So why attack time-sucking meetings, vague language, generalized pronouncements, and inertia that stalls progress? Because they waste time, which I've been reminded is precious and increasingly scarce. That's why I've been extra impatient. I've also learned that inertia isn't just a lack of momentum, it's paralysis and poison. No wonder stiction is so hard to overcome; it's literally bringing components back to life.
Consequently, just as recent in-person gatherings have been surprisingly refreshing in the wake of COVID-19, I've also been pleased to sink my teeth and mind into some useful input, such as this issue's "Compressing gases, decompressing operators" feature about automating gas and refrigeration turbomachinery on the ethylene unit at HIP-PetroHemija in Serbia (p. 55).
Likewise, I also enjoyed covering system integrator BXG Systems and their use of common software blocks to simplify treatment and processing in Texas. They detailed their efforts and successes during Rockwell Automation Fair 2021 a couple of weeks ago in Houston.
I'm especially grateful for these stories and their subjects because they and all interesting entities and events continue to light me up, especially in these difficult times. Of course, I know that movement and simple momentum aren't necessarily life, and that "passionate intensity" and "sound and fury, signifying nothing" are always present. However, I believe that seeking specifics and useful details are how we can tell the difference.