Those who know me know I’m an avid monkey fan.

No not the Made-For-TV pop band the Monkees.

I’m talking the swing-from-the-trees type. Apes will do as well, but for today’s analogy I’m going with the ones who do some serious air time.

Things have been crazy these last, oh, let’s say ten years or so. Never quite know what to expect one day to the next.

Well when things get crazy, God puts an image of a monkey in my mind.

Ever watch a monkey swinging from branch to branch, from tree to tree? I mean really watch next time you’ve got some Animal Planet show on TV.

The art with which said monkey gauges his or her air speed and branch swing and drop is simply incredible. And the speed at which the mental calculations must be taking place is more impressive.

And when a monkey misses a branch? He or she just catches the next one as the plummet is taking place. Wow.

It’s been said that walking is simply a controlled fall. That’s more easily imagined when one’s swinging about at a level roughly ten to twenty times one’s height.

Yep that’s what keeps me going sometimes – the image of me the monkey adjusting to things as they fly by, or as they are quickly approaching. Weeee 🙂

Another image comes to mind too, which is what keeps me up at night sometimes.

Do you still have that swinging, happy monkey image in your mind?

Ok, good. Now make some adjustments…

Imagine sections of the jungle where gravity changes unexpectedly. Not just like lighter or heavier then normal, that would be too easy. Make the gravity swap around so up becomes down, left becomes up, that sort of thing. And yep make the gravity heavier and lighter at random. But in most areas make the gravity normal.

Hmmm let’s also make random tree limbs turn to, say, donuts. And some of them look like regular limbs but make them sticky or ultra slippery and stuff.

It’s like that sometimes when things head my direction. Of course not really in real life but sure feels like that.

So on those days when I seem a bit off, it’s because things happen and those kinds of ideas are the thoughts that are zoom zoom zooming past, which keep me sane.

Then there are the dreams I have when I have time to sleep, let’s not talk about those 🙂

I’m waiting for a computer processes to take place, knowing I’m not going to hit my deadline, and looking for ways to calm the alarms going off in my head…

So I’m cleaning up old emails, puttering about and glancing at the ominously still, black console that hides the churning of activity taking place inside a server somewhere. And taking my lunch break here at the desk as well, waiting for a prompt to pop up so we can continue onwards.

As I look at the screen, I’m reminded of what it’s like to get on a bus on the far eastern end of London on an early Saturday morning… let me take you back there [queue wavy special effect on the screen]

Folks on the East End of town generally take queuing up in a haphazard manner. This goes for anything really – whether it’s waiting for a bus, train, or even walking down the sidewalk. It’s not a thing they take seriously – lines on the sidewalk or in a given waiting area are more hints of suggestions than anything else in that part of the City.

In my mind’s eye, I’m standing in a shifting queue waiting for any given bus (or train) on any given early Saturday afternoon.

As it is here in Houston, a general rush period occurs shortly after the noon hour. The main difference is that in London, the sidewalks and public transport are bursting with activity as well as automobiles on the streets – probably more so.

An interesting thing happens then when the bus (or train) appears in view in this memory of mine in East End London. The almost-neatly-formed queue starts to clot and thicken, as does gravy in a hot pan. Folks begin to close in, anticipating where the door will be, and the occasional foot gets trod upon in the process. I’ve learned how to use my elbows effectively in this type of situation.

As the bus (or train) slows to a halt, the clumps of people congregate into a tight mass. Think of photos of iron fillings on a white piece of paper as they arrange themselves along the lines of flow when a magnetic bar is placed under the paper. A collective shiver of anticipation and hidden sideways glances pass through the crowd of now-nearly-formless groups of people as they plot their move into the vehicle.

And then, as the door opens, a nearly silent mad rush occurs to get into the opening. There’s a definite feeling of suppressed panic that one gets when trying to keep some civil distance away from those in front, as those behind are relentlessly pushing forward. At some point, the pressure wave of flesh, clothing and various amplitudes of scent pops one through the opening, where a similar but less urgent demand for space is taking place.

At this point in my mind, a juxtaposition takes place. This image I just painted is kind of what I’m imagining is happening behind that magic black screen that holds my progress hostage.

At the moment, we’ve a number of dev-types like myself who are also shoving our way into various bits of the system, all at the same time. And like any given Saturday afternoon in any given point of East End London, we’re causing a rush of activity that is no less mad than the scene I’ve taken part of many times on the physical realm.

Ah well, all’s well. We’ll keep churning on then, and will cheer those invisible byte-sized travelers along as they make their way along their journey.