3 Tissues, 3 Trabbies
The extreme cold here in Budapest has afforded me some observations that led me to thinking. We can all find patterns in our lives and in the world around us, but our subconscious typically discards the input. Promoting the influential impact of these otherwise seemingly insignificant paradigms on our way of thinking is quite possibly one key on the keychain of happiness.
On my daily, 21 minute walk home from work, I’ve noticed a pattern that you might find a bit silly: I have to blow my nose exactly three times. What's exciting is that I can share more details…
2 minutes into the brisk walk, the first calling comes. This is just as I leave T-Mobile Park, which is where my office is located. Maybe the constant visual frequency of the hot-pink T-Mobile brand identity throughout the neighborhood protects my nasal passages while still under the domain.
The 11th minute of the journey presents the next viscously excretory urge. This is coincidentally during the most difficult street crossing. In a quick athletic sprint, I must cross 6 lanes of traffic going in 4 different directions, as well as 2 sets of tram tracks. Cars don’t stop for people here like they do in the States, and the possibility of financial benefits due to injury is not exactly a known concept in Eastern (or are we “Central” now?) Europe. Personal responsibility is compulsory, and safety is a must!
And finally, 17 minutes along my voyage as I’m taking a shortcut through the park (pictured in my first blog post), the shnoz demands more attention. This is at the same time that I must navigate my way through a mass of dogs running and sniffing around me. But I don’t mind (I miss my puppy!).
I’ve found these numbers consistently accurate (translation for my fellow geeks… n=10, CL: 95% or 2SD, CI: ±1 min.).
Another timely example is the beloved Trabant (or Trabbi), which is a cheerful little car that was made in East Germany during the Soviet era and sold throughout the Eastern Bloc. Trabbies can still be readily found on the sides of the roads in these countries. Some of them were intentionally parked, and some were simply abandoned. With this weather, it seems that the ratio of abandoned to parked Trabbis has risen.
At 9:00 in a certain neighborhood, there were 12 parked and 7 abandoned Trabbis. At the current temperature of -5°C, one Trabbi is parked every 10 minutes and one is abandoned every 6 minutes. Assuming that none of the Trabbis were removed, at what time does the quantity of abandoned Trabbies first exceed the quantity of parked Trabbis? (sorry… I’m studying for the GMAT and word problems seem to be my life! I digress…)
My point (and I do have one!): If we start to recognize more of these patterns in our lives, we can better plan for these events and not have to deal with them in disaster mode. When I cross the chaotic intersection, I’m able to focus on safety and not fumble for a tissue to deal with my runny nose (because before I leave the office, I make sure that I have at least 3 tissues in my right pocket). And as I stroll through the park, I’m able to enjoy all the runny canine noses rather than my own. If I had a Trabbi repair business, just think about the product and service placement opportunities from knowing these statistics. And if I personally owned a Trabbi… well, I would simply park it at these temperatures and walk, and start my day on a positive note as I enjoy watching the distress of the other Trabbi owners that didn’t recognize the obvious and predictable scenario.
OK, having to blow your nose while enjoying the company of dogs isn’t exactly a potential disaster, but you get my point. One of my colleagues always explains the concept that there are known unknowns (what I’m talking about), and unknown unknowns (the other stuff). I'll state it simply: Recognize the former so you can celebrate the latter.
On my daily, 21 minute walk home from work, I’ve noticed a pattern that you might find a bit silly: I have to blow my nose exactly three times. What's exciting is that I can share more details…
2 minutes into the brisk walk, the first calling comes. This is just as I leave T-Mobile Park, which is where my office is located. Maybe the constant visual frequency of the hot-pink T-Mobile brand identity throughout the neighborhood protects my nasal passages while still under the domain.
The 11th minute of the journey presents the next viscously excretory urge. This is coincidentally during the most difficult street crossing. In a quick athletic sprint, I must cross 6 lanes of traffic going in 4 different directions, as well as 2 sets of tram tracks. Cars don’t stop for people here like they do in the States, and the possibility of financial benefits due to injury is not exactly a known concept in Eastern (or are we “Central” now?) Europe. Personal responsibility is compulsory, and safety is a must!
And finally, 17 minutes along my voyage as I’m taking a shortcut through the park (pictured in my first blog post), the shnoz demands more attention. This is at the same time that I must navigate my way through a mass of dogs running and sniffing around me. But I don’t mind (I miss my puppy!).
I’ve found these numbers consistently accurate (translation for my fellow geeks… n=10, CL: 95% or 2SD, CI: ±1 min.).
Another timely example is the beloved Trabant (or Trabbi), which is a cheerful little car that was made in East Germany during the Soviet era and sold throughout the Eastern Bloc. Trabbies can still be readily found on the sides of the roads in these countries. Some of them were intentionally parked, and some were simply abandoned. With this weather, it seems that the ratio of abandoned to parked Trabbis has risen.
At 9:00 in a certain neighborhood, there were 12 parked and 7 abandoned Trabbis. At the current temperature of -5°C, one Trabbi is parked every 10 minutes and one is abandoned every 6 minutes. Assuming that none of the Trabbis were removed, at what time does the quantity of abandoned Trabbies first exceed the quantity of parked Trabbis? (sorry… I’m studying for the GMAT and word problems seem to be my life! I digress…)
My point (and I do have one!): If we start to recognize more of these patterns in our lives, we can better plan for these events and not have to deal with them in disaster mode. When I cross the chaotic intersection, I’m able to focus on safety and not fumble for a tissue to deal with my runny nose (because before I leave the office, I make sure that I have at least 3 tissues in my right pocket). And as I stroll through the park, I’m able to enjoy all the runny canine noses rather than my own. If I had a Trabbi repair business, just think about the product and service placement opportunities from knowing these statistics. And if I personally owned a Trabbi… well, I would simply park it at these temperatures and walk, and start my day on a positive note as I enjoy watching the distress of the other Trabbi owners that didn’t recognize the obvious and predictable scenario.
OK, having to blow your nose while enjoying the company of dogs isn’t exactly a potential disaster, but you get my point. One of my colleagues always explains the concept that there are known unknowns (what I’m talking about), and unknown unknowns (the other stuff). I'll state it simply: Recognize the former so you can celebrate the latter.
... in case you were interested:
Answer: 10:18.
Answer: 10:18.
posted by Phil Arko @ 12:05 AM
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