Here's how I've reached this blissful state of loneliness.

First, I use IMAP to access my email, which is handy because I leave everything on the server and can access my email from multiple computers without worrying about things getting out of sync. As you'll see below, using IMAP offers other benefits in my quest for loneliness.

My first line of spam defense is SpamAssassin, a server-side spam filter provided by my long-time web hosting company. SpamAssassin detects spam and automatically moves the worst offenders to my spam folder. It then sends me a spam summary email once a day listing only the subject lines of the spam messages. I scan the summary messages every few days to make sure no good messages were incorrectly tagged as spam (SpamAssassin rarely does this.) then delete the spam summary messages. The original spam messages stay in the spam folder on the server for a few days and then are automatically deleted.

SpamAssassin is good, but it stills misses some spam. Enter SpamSieve, a client-side Bayesian spam filter that hooks into the Rules in Mail.app and checks for spam as mail arrives to your inbox. You train the software initially by manually marking messages as "Good" or "Spam". Then (very quickly) SpamSieve takes over and begins to automatically move messages to your spam folder. I've found that SpamSieve is very, very smart, rarely failing to catch a spam message, and never erroneously putting good messages in the spam folder.

If I leave SpamSieve running on my iMac at home it merrily does its job all day long so that my mailbox stays clean even when I check my email from my laptop. Even better, the ravishing Mrs. Survance has discovered that SpamSieve does such a good job at home that she rarely sees spam on her beloved iPhone.

I've also configured Mail.app to not display images for HTML-formatted messages. This is helpful on the extremely rare occasion when I have to actually look at a piece of junk email and don't want to see offensive images. This is a minor annoyance when I receive photos via email from family and friends, but Mail.app enables me to display those images with a single mouse click, so it's really not an issue.

One closing note: if you don't understand anything I've said here, get a Gmail, or AOL Mail account. These services are well known for their spam filters.

Customers really can't avoid him as they approach the counter to place their orders:

"Cinnamon sugar, toasted, with blueberry. Small coffee." 

"Asiago, toasted with plain cream cheese."

He's a familiar face and some of the regulars smile and greet him. Others, especially the strangers who stop in the bagel shop on the way from their hotels to the convention center, don't know what to make of him. Like me, when I first met him, they probably think he's a member of the fraternity of homeless people that frequent our downtown streets.

He never asks for money but he scans the faces, and spotting a friendly one, he always asks the same question,

"What kind of work do you do?".

It's a fascinating study in human behavior to watch how people respond to Howard's question. Some are uncomfortable, and ignore him, intently studying the menu on the wall as if they don't get the same thing every day - "Powerbagel, double-toasted, with peanut butter". But most will respond,

"I'm in sales."

"I own a small business.",

And so on. Like any good interviewer, Howard always has a follow-up question:

"But what do you sell?"

"What kind of small business?".

"Cool", he always says, after he gets his answer. And that's the end of the conversation.

I've answered this question at least a dozen times in the two years that I've been coming here,

"Good morning sir."

"Good morning, Howard."

"Sir?"

"Yes, Howard?"

"What kind of work do you do?"

"I work with computers, Howard."

"What do you do with computers?"

"I put maps on the internet and help people with driving directions."

"Cool."

I'll never forget the first time I met Howard. I thought he was going to ask for money and, after the follow-up question, was prepared to brush him off and pull the I-have-to-study-the-menu trick, when he suddenly released me from the conversation with his totally relaxed, almost child-like, "Cool".

The store manager is kind to Howard. One day I asked her about him. She told me that he's not homeless, but lives in a nearby home for mentally handicapped people. He comes in every day at the same time, spends a couple of hours, then moves on. He has a couple of additional questions for me today:

"Are things good for you sir?"

I'm overwhelmed by the fact that, compared to Howard, my life is filled with material wealth and relational richness that he'll never know.

"Yes, Howard, things are very, very good for me. How about you? Are things good for you?"

"Well... that's a hard one to answer."

"Some days are better than others, huh?"

"Well... not really. They're all just about the same."

This morning I'm sitting a little closer to him than usual. Close enough to see that someone has written "F__k Me" on the toe of his tattered tennis shoe. Now I am angry. And strangely compelled to pull out my laptop and tell you about Howard before I turn my attention to the duties of the day.

Today those duties include dealing with the challenges of systems, strategy, operations, budgets, politics, and people. But today as I leave the bagel shop with my backpack I'll have Howard to thank for helping me keep things in perspective.

Life is challenging. But everything's cool.

We ended our evening walk in Central Park at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, commonly called "The Met". A friend had recommended the Arms and Armor exhibit, which turned out to be stunning. This picture shows five horsemen (15th century?) in full plate armor. You can view some more of our photos from the Met here, but they don't begin to capture the drama of this display.

My mom and niece were here from FL this week so we took off for the mountains. We skied at Winter Park and stayed in a cabin at Snow Mountain Ranch, a YMCA facility like none other, where the kids enjoyed tubing and a craft program, but mostly just eating, reading, and playing board games in front of the fireplace.

Click here to view a slideshow of photos from our family getaway.

Skiing in the trees is a relatively new experience for us, and I'm feeling especially smug because over the course of this season I've gone from fearfully following the rest of the family - who no doubt have an unfair advantage with their shorter skis and lighter weights - to skiing tree-gladed runs with only a slight sense of terror and awareness of the brevity of life.

Tree skiing is great for two reasons:

1. Powder. The snow that falls in the pines is protected from wind and sun. This means that it will remain light and powdery long after the snow out in the open has turned to wind-blown crust or freeze-thawed ice. (OK, I'll admit it. Ice is a true rarity in CO skiing unless you're trying to extend the season into May or June.)

2. Peace. Beginners don't (intentionally) ski in the trees, and many accomplished skiers simply prefer cruising on groomed runs. Many great tree runs aren't runs at all. You just dive into a patch of pines, keep your skis generally pointed downhill and ski toward daylight. All this means that skiing in trees is an uncrowded, peaceful experience.

I'm hooked. And fortunately, Beth and the kids are too.