S.B.T. 395

Finite Element Analysis

An FEA agent, that's what i was, tho i didnt want to be that, but i realize now it wasn't who i am,  just what i did, and somewhat egolessly i might add — it never felt like anything other than service, to my higher-ups, industry, the public, god. i made it my game to make the best quality products possible, using eager talented artists and a variety of manufacturing facilities then watching the ticker-tape sales roll in.

i remember one time feeling happy about it. a bonus check,  if i remember correctly, that took my breath away, it was huge for me. but, just once, i only walked on air once, in chicago, after i was on my own, that is, after i left the company — what happened in chicago is another story, for now let's just say the angels were singing. 

scratching my head, i couldn't remember any outstanding events thrilling to my soul and spirit making me proud of myself, all such were tinged with regrets, not truly worthy. except maybe the time i enjoyed my first single malt scotch in a really posh upscale star-studded cocktail lounge in NY. i don't care much about those things now, not to mention pride itself ahem cough cough i could never find it worthwhile then to be happy about just one small thing, like getting an award, helping or saving someone's life. small things, yes. you never know what a big thing might actually be. like a really good vacuum design could be big.

Bakhita, that was her name, the saint, the woman from africa who was canonized in 2000 — that, is big.

please talk FEA and send letters with your personal advice to vacuum cleaner designers the world over, there is a crisis in utility/function/design rampant, insidious and embarrassingly pretentious which only we can rescue guerrilla-style