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Still here in Joliett; I must say, the weather has been cooperating nicely since the wild stuff I encountered on Monday. Blue skies, mild temperatures; it’s almost like the weather is apologizing for scaring me.

My co-workers and I were eating dinner at a local restaurant, basically just shooting the breeze and swapping tales, when I heard a great one that just stood out in my mind.

A young man and his girlfriend were out for a special dinner at an expensive restaurant. The waiter, a young man himself, arrives with the wine list. Without even looking at it, his girlfriend blurts out (completely seriously), “I’d like a bottle of Chateaubriand.”

(Just on the off chance you didn’t know this already, chateaubriand is actually a recipe for grilled tenderloin of beef, not a wine.)

Now, the young man, and obviously the waiter, knew this was a silly thing to do. So the question was, what’s the best way to react? Should the young man correct her? (Sound of buzzer.) Oh, sorry, that is incorrect (but thanks for playing, and here’s a lovely parting gift!) No, all that would accomplish is to embarrass her, and pretty much ruin the rest of their evening.

So what about the waiter? HE could correct her; after all, if anybody was an expert on wine, he was. (Sound of buzzer.) Oh, sorry, that too is incorrect! This would likely lead to embarassment as well, and this time (even worse) it’s from a total stranger to whom you will soon be giving money for what will probably turn out to be a ruined meal.

No, what actually happened is the waiter responded with “Very good, ma’am. I’ll bring it right out.” And then left them with their menus. After a few minutes, he came back and said, “I’m sorry, but we’re all out of chateaubriand. May I suggest a nice Chianti instead?”

Needless to say, honor was upheld, and the evening was saved.

But my, oh, my; talk about your sensitivity! I’ve just gotta admire that young waiter for handling the situation perfectly. I mean, here was someone who knew how to manage a possibly sticky situation without making a scene, or embarassing the young woman in front of her date. Nice going!

What a great talent to cultivate, don’t you think?

You know, it would just be absolutely finer than a frogs hair if you would subscribe to my RSS feed!

In case anybody is wondering…

I just upgraded from Wordpress 2.1.3 to 2.2, and now I notice quite a few, if not all, special characters (like apostrophes and dashes) now show up as embedded gibberish!

Anybody know how to fix that - other than having to go and manually correct each one?

You know, it would just be absolutely finer than a frogs hair if you would subscribe to my RSS feed!

I swear I’m not making this up - honest!

I’m up in Joliett, Illinois this week, and sure enough wild weather followed me yet again! Oh, the flight touched down OK (although it was a mite bumpy - meaning moments of free fall followed by moments of hard climb, then rinse and repeat), but when I left O’Hare to head south on 294, all I could see was this giant black mass of clouds laced with bolts of lightning, right in my path. Sheesh, not again!

It took me almost two hours to make what would normally be about a one-hour trip, and once I got to the hotel, I was pretty much ready to stay in for the evening. Probably lucky thing I did, too - the next day folks at the plant told me a tornado had gone by just south of where I am right now! I don’t know about you, but I hate it when that happens!

Yep, it’s happened to me more than once (but you probably knew that already, right?)

Back in 1990, Mrs. MZM and I had just relocated to Austin, Texas to work on a semiconductor project for Motorola when a similar thing happened. We’d just moved into a second-floor apartment on Research Boulevard when the weather started getting really ugly. In fact, it quickly got so dark the street lights came on.

Then the rain started falling. No kidding; it was like a dam burst! The pounding on the roof was so loud (we were on the top floor) we could hardly hear ourselves think. And talk about windy! I thought the trees were going to snap, they were waving around so much.

Eventually though, things calmed down a bit; but then we had another problem - the roof leaked (sound of Chinese water torture). We had buckets, pots, pans - pretty much anything we could find - parked everywhere. Talk about a big mess.

But it wasn’t until the next day we found out a tornado had touched down nearby! In fact, in tracing its path, we discovered the disturbing news that it had drawn a line right toward us, lifted off about a half mile away, gone over us, then touched down again about a half mile up the road and kept going for another mile or so.

Now that was too close for comfort!

I don’t know - that sort of thing kinda makes me think (sound of gears grinding). There we were, supposedly snug as a bug in a rug in our apartment (I mean, other than the leaky roof), and all the while completely unaware of potential disaster right above us!

OK class - it’s parable time! Yep, we’ve done this once before, and it’s time to do it again. So here’s how it works.

Let’s consider this story a modern-day parable. That’s where, instead of me telling you the lesson learned, I turn it around and let you guys tell me. Feel free to be as literal or as metaphorical as you want; as long-winded or as brief as you need; even post the answer on your own blog if you like. Just… consider the story above, then answer this question:

What life lesson could you draw from this story?

You know, it would just be absolutely finer than a frogs hair if you would subscribe to my RSS feed!

There are times when a word of encouragement can sometimes be as refreshing as a delicious glass of ice cold water on a sweltering summer day, don’t you think?

As I mentioned yesterday, I’m traveling this week up in the Chicago area (and lemme just shout out a big ol’ HOWDY to everybody in the neighborhood - wave, wave). As I was leaving O’Hare though, I saw what looked like some pretty heavy weather in the direction I was headed (Joliet). Yuck; I hate it when that happens, don’t you?

By now, most of you probably know I have a “thing” about wild weather. (Go ahead; laugh all you want, but I still say weird weather follows me around.) But I can recall at least one time when bad weather turned out to be a blessing…

Some years ago I worked on a project up near the town of Sherman, Texas (a more-or-less wide spot on I-75, a bit north of Dallas), and for a while there I was flying back and forth from Houston to Dallas every two weeks (and boy, were my arms getting tired!) One Monday morning stands out because of the particularly heavy weather in the Dallas area.

Now, I’m not one of those who absolutely must “get there at all costs”; I simply hate having a tight travel schedule (by hate I mean really, really hate). I prefer to make travel arrangements such that: a) I don’t have to rush to the airport, b) arrive with plenty of lead time, and c) can relax, have a soda, board the plane and go. As far as I’m concerned, any other way just leads to high blood pressure and anxiety. (I’ve seen enough of those types over the years and, well, it’s not for me, Bubba; not for me.)

Anyway, this particular Monday, there were some pretty hairy thunderstorms in the Dallas area causing all kinds of flight delays. By the time I had arrived at the Houston airport, my flight had been cancelled and there were a fairly large number of seriously upset folks at the gate. In the midst of this, the gate agents were asking for people to volunteer for later flights in exchange for a couple of first-class upgrades (a sure sign the schedules were seriously bollixed).

Now this sounded like a fairly good deal to me; after all, I wasn’t really on a strict timetable, and having that extra arm- and legroom always sounds pretty good to a long drink of water like me. However, if there’s one thing I’d learned about this type of situation, it’s this: never accept the first offer! After all, there were only so many flights; with about a bazillion people trying to get them it was only a matter of time before they would sweeten the deal.

Sure enough, after about a half hour or so, they started offering four upgrades. Well, that was good enough for me, so I stepped into the line to take them up on it.

Well, wouldn’t you know it; I had the misfortune to get behind someone who was just absolutely bent out of shape about the whole thing. I mean, you’d think it was the airline’s fault, as if the storms were a personal affront or something. (It was so irritating that I was about ready to give ‘em a good hard kick in the butt just on general principles; I mean, c’mon!) This person griped and grumbled to himself in the line, and when they finally got up to the obviously overstressed gate agent, they really gave her the works!

That poor agent - I have to give her credit for not reaching across the counter and giving the person a good, swift backhand (sorry; I don’t mean to sound so violence-oriented here, but they surely deserved it). She bore the running insults and diatribe very well, though, and eventually managed to get to me.

As we worked out my alternate flight arrangements, I expressed sympathy for her abuse at the hands of so many irate travelers, and told her how much I appreciated her help in working my schedule out, which earned a bit of gratitude, to say the least. As she handed me the envelope containing my certificates, she leaned toward me and quietly thanked me for being so kind and understanding. (Alas, it was apparent these two qualities were in somewhat short supply that morning.)

It’s amazing what a kind word can accomplish, don’t you think?

Here’s someone who was suffering a truly bad day - and it wasn’t even noon yet! Everyone around her had a legitimate reason to be a bit grumpy - after all, who really likes having a flight delayed or cancelled, right? But at the same time, this gate agent ended up being the focus of all the frustration and outright anger. It simply wasn’t fair.

Now, I wasn’t able to help much; after all, she still had her job to do. But the least I could do was offer a word of encouragement, and express my gratitude for her help. I was sure it made a difference, even if only a small one. I know I would have appreciated it.

Ah, well, there were still a few hours until flight time. A soft drink and a book could always keep me company, so I headed for the concession area. A few minutes later, soda in hand, I opened that envelope she had given me - only to find there were not four upgrade certificates, but eight!

You know, it would just be absolutely finer than a frogs hair if you would subscribe to my RSS feed!

I’m up in the Chicago area for the next few days, so posting here at the Zone may be sporadic. Hopefully I’ll be back online tomorrow.

Y’all have a great week, and I’ll see you in the funny pages!

You know, it would just be absolutely finer than a frogs hair if you would subscribe to my RSS feed!

Just a little something for all the Dads out there today.

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY!

You know, it would just be absolutely finer than a frogs hair if you would subscribe to my RSS feed!

Have you ever wanted to be so remarkable that people, when searching for someone with your particular expertise, will always think of you? (Like being the first Google search result, but in the person’s mind rather than on the net.)

Last night Mrs. MZM and I watched an old Sherlock Holmes movie (Dressed to Kill, 1946, starring Basil Rathbone as The Man). Three ordinary-looking music boxes were at the center of the plot; they were supposed to be picked up at an auction by the Crook and his beautiful Female Crook accomplice. Unfortunately the Crooks were late and the boxes were purchased separately by three other people. (Don’t you just hate it when that happens?)

Anyway, as the story progresses, the venerable Mr. Holmes (accompanied by the inevitably bumbling Dr. Watson) must track the boxes down before the Crooks do, while at the same time figure out what’s so special about them. It soon becomes apparent that each one contains part of a single message, and all three are needed to decipher it.

One of the boxes was picked up by the young lady proprietor of a gift shop. The Female Crook has already managed to acquire two of the three boxes (by murder, cheating and stealing, oh, my!), and this one contains the remaining piece of the puzzle. But when she arrives at the shop, she is told a gentleman had just purchased it.

A delicate inquiry as to who the gentleman was causes the proprietor to give her a card with the purchaser’s name on it. (Pregnant pause while the audience is left, momentarily, to wonder whose name is on the card - but we know, don’t we?)

What caught my attention about the scene, though, was the card itself. (Heaven knows it certainly wasn’t the *yawn* movie.) The card was plain, white, and had just two words on it: Sherlock Holmes. (Sound of short, dramatic organ riff climax.)

Now, think about that for a minute (no, silly, not my pathetic attempt to render the background music - think about the card). What exactly is supposed to go on a business card anyway? Name, address, contact information, perhaps a web site - all kinds of things find their way onto business cards these days. I wouldn’t be surprised if the danged things don’t start singing jingles before too long! In fact, I can hear it now:

(Sound of player piano with kazoo accompaniment)

Hello! My name is Bob! It may come as no surprise that I’m lookin’ for a job!
Your company and me- we’ll go together like a steak and corn on the cob! (Sound of piano being smashed by angry listeners)

Yikes! Can’t you just see millions of people going on a crusade to stamp these things out? Er, but I digress.

Anyway, as I said, here’s a guy whose card breaks every rule in the book! No address, no phone, just a name. So what could possibly make this card effective? Uh-huh, you know, don’t you?

Well, just the fact that literally everybody knew who he was (THE Sherlock Holmes, famous detective), where he lived (221-B Baker Street, of course - it’s in every single book and movie), and what he could do for you (solve mysteries, don’cha know). Those two words told the entire story.

He was so remarkable a what he did, there was no other identifier necessary!

So there’s the goal, folks. What can you do today that will make you that remarkable?

You know, it would just be absolutely finer than a frogs hair if you would subscribe to my RSS feed!