In reading the column, one might get the idea that I lead a fairly exciting life. Others might get the idea that I work all the time. Both are wrong, but neither is completely wrong all the time.

This past week both ideas were more true than false. It was a week that held more excitement than boredom, more activity than sloth.

I think I've mentioned numerous times that I've always managed to keep myself active in one way or the other, but I do have times when I get much less accomplished.

I've never really understood why I tend to be the kind of person who either works like mad or does nearly nothing, a person who is often characterized by personal extremes.

Even though this is true, I've often thought of balance and tried to achieve it. I've even often given my mantra, "Most things are good in moderation," to those in need of advice, including myself. Of course, there are exceptions to every rule, extinuating circumstances that can make any mantra untrue.

In my ponderings this week, I've decided that those who read about life, those who simulate life through games or talk about it through chat and chatter, and those who watch life and live vicariously through television programs and movies all are missing a very important truth. The more time that is attributed to these activities, the less time that remains to actually live life firsthand.

Would you rather read about walking through a mountain meadow or stroll through one yourself? Perhaps it is better to read some things, especially those that chronicle fictional experiences like "War of the Worlds," which I recently read again after several years.

Its theme of aliens invading England is really only a backdrop for the real message, the fragility of our human social order. Our ideas of order, property rights and personal freedom can all evaporate in an instant. However, I think that since that book was written (around 1896, as I recall), we've since learned that Mars isn't as inhabitable as we once thought. Anyway, before I allowed Orson Wells to capture my thoughts for a few moments there, I was talking about time. Time is our most limited commodity and should be saved and spent wisely, much like our other limited resources.

Consider that time, unlike money, once spent can't be recouped. There is no amount of effort that can bring back one second of one's past, glorious or terrible. The present is our reality, the future our hope.

I was watching a short clip on the Internet a few days ago when I saw the little bar moving quickly across the bottom of the screen, marking the progress of the clip. As I watched it, I thought that the marker is where we are, the part of the clip behind it has already been seen, but the future is unknown. (For the clip in question, part of the ‘future' wasn't even downloaded yet). As the play rate exceeded the download speed, the clip would stop and take a few moments to catch up. I suppose those are the times when we need a break, too. When our play rate is faster than our source of energy, we must invariably stop and take a few moments (or days) to catch up. The best way to rectify that, I've found, is to adjust the play rate to roughly equal, or even slower, than the download speed.

Most of the time I don't work it that way, I must admit. I usually try to go until I have nothing left. In doing so, I usually surprise myself by finding that I had far more gas in the tank than I would have given msyelf credit for.

There was one significant difference between life and the clip, I thought. Sadly, we don't have a pause feature; we are all designed to play until one day we stop.

Like every life, mine has its share of down times and up times, good and bad, boring and exciting. One is actually dependant on the other, without both living in some sort of a balance, neither would be appreciated. Criticism and praise must also be kept in balance, at least mentally, in order to have a healthy self-esteem. Even so, I've managed to reach the point in life where I handle both without taking it to heart. I suppose that statement is less than genuine, since I tend to ponder the words of my detractors much more than those of my benefactors.

Praise should never be given too much merit, lest one suffer from a swollen head, nor should criticism be given too much importance, lest one be crushed by the weight of it. Some support is given from kindness, just as soon criticism is given through ill intent. Neither are honest appraisals of one's worth or value.

Even so, when criticism is sent my way, I endeavor to learn from it as much as possible, whenever possible.

"Arc and ark aren't the same thing," I was told by a friend last week.

"I know that," I replied.

One is a boat and the other is basically a curved line or a spark between two points. However, I wrote arc and meant ark in the last sentence of my column last week. I wonder how many people really noticed? Evidently I have at least one proofreading friend. Sadly, I didn't catch the mistake myself after writing it.

The week before I had one commissioner saying that he wanted to raise taxes more than two cents rather than "not" wanting to do so. Polar opposites they may be, but the fact remains that the omission of one word, or the misuse of the same, can lead to dramatically different meanings.

As for the arc versus ark goof, I was feeling predisposed toward thinking of curved lines since I considered creating an arch between the living room and dining room. I later decided to stay with 90-degree turns, just to make building more familiar.

I also learned Saturday that I might not want to seek a career installing vented kerosene heaters, since I had a hard time getting mine re-installed after removing it, but I'll spare you the details. Needless to say, the local heater specialist will be hearing from me in the future.

I suppose that improvement can be predicted by how much of its predecessors, effort and time, are present currently. Sometimes I reach a point where I realize that the amount of effort and time required to attain perfection simply aren't available.

Any musician, including guitar players like myself, can tell you that. While perfection isn't a realistic goal, satisfaction and the pursuit of constant improvement are possibilities. I'll just shoot for those.