Howdy, Bubba! Hey, if you're new around these parts, I just want to say how much I appreciate you dropping by! Oh, and you may want to subscribe to my feed. Thanks, and a tip o' the hat to ya!

You know, it’s been quite a while since we finished the last What I Learned From… project, and - hmmm. Gee, has it really only been two weeks? Well, maybe it just seems like it’s been a long time. Things have been a bit busy around here lately.

Not only that, but thanks to our combined projects with the High Callings Blogs community, two out of the last three have lasted two weeks instead of the usual one. But I think it’s time to go back to a one-week time frame don’t you? (sound of terrified scream)

I know, I know; some of you like having the extra time - you’re busy with lots of other endeavors. Believe me, I understand perfectly. The only thing is, when we keep the project open for two whole weeks, it almost seems like it’s… well, never-ending, you know?

Personally, I think it’s important to keep breaks between them, to focus on, you know, other stuff. No need to panic, though, ‘cause I’ve got a solution I think will please everyone (sound of crowd cheering).

From now on, I’ll be announcing the next WILF topic one week early (that happens to be today, in case you’re calendar-challenged). See, that way, you still have two weeks to write an entry even though the actual kickoff isn’t until next Monday.

Am I clever, or what? (Don’t answer that!)

OK, so I’m fudging a bit. Is that wrong? (Don’t answer that either!) All it really means is, if you need the extra time, you’ll have it. Just remember to email me the links so I don’t miss ‘em.

So, here’s the official announcement: the July WILF topic is (sound of trumpets and drums rolling dramatically)…

Transportation

.

That includes trains, planes, automobiles, airport shuttles, space shuttles, bus shuttles, Star Trek shuttlecraft, skateboards, surfboards, buckboards, Ouija boards, wheelchairs, lift chairs, chair lifts, racing sleds, racing go-carts, racing snails, ice skates, roller skates, jet skates, anything rocket-powered, sail boats, tug boats, motor boats, gravy boats, well, you get the idea. Hey, if it moves - or can move stuff - and is at least marginally related to the topic, then it’s fair game!

So grab your keyboard, stone chisel, or other writing instrument of your choice and get ready folks, ‘cause the next What I Learned From… groupwrite project kicks off next Monday, July 7^th!

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Howdy, y’all! Wow, am I excited!

Hey, take a trip with me today to the beautiful island of Hawaii in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, where I have the honor of joining Rosa Say’s fascinating and diverse Ho’ohana community over at Joyful Jubilant Learning!

(To be honest, I’m not exactly sure what Ho’ohana means in Hawaiian, but if you said it in some places in Texas they’ll probably think you’re tellin’ ‘em to do the hootchie-kootchie and shake it all about. But I digress.)

I’m tellin’ ya folks; I’m exhausted! And it’s not because I’m tired from, you know, flapping my arms for so long. (C’mon, admit it - you were thinkin’ it, weren’t you?)

No, silly, it’s because while normal posts here at the Zone tend to be around 1,000 words long (although lately I must admit to having a tendency to, you know, wax a tad eloquent), er, the thing is, once I started writing this one it just kept on going like the Eveready Bunny.

Anyhoo -

As you know, here at the Middle Zone the main thing is lessons learned from life. But I got to thinking (which is probably that noise you’ve been hearing)… Is it possible to learn lessons from pretty much anything? This question was closely followed by its corollary: If so, then how do you do it?

I warned Rosa a while back about the growing size of the article, but she just replied with words to the effect, “Let it be as long as it needs to be.” So I did! Almost 3,000 words later, I’m pleased to present: How to Learn Something From Anything.

As a teaser, here’s the introduction:

_______________

Have you ever had something happen (it could be something trivial or traumatic; doesn’t matter which), only to have some wisenheimer mosey up to you afterwards and casually ask, “OK, so what did you just learn from that?”

Then, after the initial urge passes to, you know, smack ‘em, you suddenly realize the awful truth: you can’t think of a single blessed thing you learned!

Don’cha hate it when that happens? I know I do!

But what does it mean? Do you get the nagging feeling that you missed something important? Was there nothing to be learned? Even worse; does it mean you’re (sound of terrified scream) unteachable?

_______________

Anyway, I explore some techniques that, if utilized, will really go a long way to helping you learn something from pretty much anything. Pop on over and let me know what you think.

Oh yeah - Just in case, I’ve got the fireplace mantle cleared off for when the Nobel Committee calls. (… uh, is this thing on?)

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

Have you ever experienced a shining moment of glory, only to find out it, er, wasn’t what you thought? Yep; thought so.

Been there.

Standing a Little Taller

Like most companies these days, mine operates with a “business casual” dress code. It’s pretty much been this way as long as I can remember. So when you see someone walking around our offices with a tie, it’s kinda unusual. Generally it means they’re a client.

Now, some of you may recall I changed jobs within my company this past January, moving from the engineering department to the consulting group. Prior to the move, one thing I remembered from past consulting gigs was that we usually wore ties, or (depending on the client) even suited up occasionally. So what the heck, I decided to wear a tie on my first day. Y’know; make a good first impression.

Well, as it turned out, nobody in this part of the company wears ties either. Hmph.

So there I was, strolling around the office with my fancy tie on, and folks who don’t know me think I’m a client. Pretty interesting, actually. I found myself squaring up the shoulders a bit, sucking in the tummy, standing a little taller. Hey, maybe there’s something to this “dress for success” thing after all.

Then I got to thinking (sound of grinding gears); what if I just said the heck with it and wore a tie all the time? I mean, so what if no one else does it? (Call me crazy, but it so happens I like to wear ties.)

So the upshot is, I’ve been wearing one ever since. Does it bother me I’m the only one? (Not even my immediate boss wears one!) Nope, not in the least. Besides, I feel better, you know?

Who knows; maybe it’ll change my life in some strange and wonderful way? Or… not.

My Moment Arrives

Now in our building, if you don’t have a badge, you won’t get past the guard. Hey, no big deal; it’s like that at countless offices around the country. At our office, if an employee forgets or loses their badge, well, they have to wait until the receptionist arrives to sign in and pick up a temporary one for the day (you need a card to open the doors around here).

Anyway, this one particular morning I happened to leave my badge at home. No worries; it just meant a wait in the lobby until the receptionist arrived - 10 minutes, tops. But then, the most interesting thing happened.

I happened to notice the President of our Regional office entering the lobby. What was weird, though, as soon as he walked in, his eyes fastened right on… me! What’s that about? As he headed my way, I’m thinkin’, Uh-oh; what’s going on here?

My brain quickly switched into overdrive as it prepared a series of handy responses (just in case, you understand): “I didn’t do it!” “I don’t care what you heard - it ain’t true!” Somewhere down at the bottom of the list was the final, fallback option:  “Howdy, I’m… Joe!” (Hey, I didn’t have a badge - how would he know?)

Sure enough, he made a beeline straight for me, stuck out his hand and introduced himself. You would’ve been proud of me, though; I played it totally cool. I gripped his hand firmly, gave him a big smile, and said, “Howdy, I’m Bob Hruzek.” (Amazing how, when that critical moment finally comes, your brain totally craters and you’re stuck with, you know, the truth.)

Now, I had no idea what was going on. I’ve never met the President of our company before (but I stayed at a Holiday Inn once; does that count? Sorry.) and honestly never really expected to. I mean, it’s a pretty big company after all. To say I was puzzled is something of an understatement.

Meanwhile my poor overworked brain was showing signs of overheating.

What could this possibly be all about, I wondered. Some new program where the Big Boss gets out to “meet the folks”? Had he somehow heard about me from my boss, and was so impressed that he simply had to come over and say hello? I mean, I’d seen him on my floor on occasion. Had I been the subject of a conversation or two? Was there some special assignment they had in mind that no one else was best qualified? Was this to be my moment? Wow, maybe I really AM somebody?

I could tell things were about to get pretty silly.

It Ain’t the Fall, it’s that Pesky Sudden Stop at the Bottom

It all came crashing down within moments, though. As soon as I said my name I could see the surprise on his face. The truth hit me like a glass of cold water down the back of my shorts. I knew instantly he had expected to meet someone else - someone who, as luck would have it, would probably be wearing a tie. Probably a client. Oh, well.

After a brief and somewhat awkward moment, he said those words we all love to hear: “Oh, sorry! I thought you were someone else.”

Just like that, he turned around, went off to the elevators, and disappeared. Alas, my brief, shining moment of imagined self-importance and glory melted away like an ice cube on a Houston sidewalk in August.

And I still had no badge.

Sigh.

Don’cha just hate it when that happens? I mean, how easy was it to start thinking of myself in glowing terms; to begin to, as the Apostle Paul once warned against, “… think more highly of myself than I ought”?

Pretty easy, as it turned out.

Well, as reality checks go, this one wasn’t so bad. But that’s OK. After all, I did get to meet the Boss. Hey, you never know; maybe one day I’ll be shaking his hand for something I actually did.

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When Mrs. MZM and I bought our first house (it was a small used home), the first thing we did was upgrade a couple of items that had seen better days: a window-mounted air conditioner (you can’t live without some form of A/C in summertime Houston!) and the water heater.

Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever replaced either one in your home, but generally speaking, they’re both essentially a “pop out the old & drop in the new” type of operation. Oh, sure, water heaters have a hose or two to detach/attach, but otherwise, they’re no big deal.

Unless, of course, you’re me. (C’mon, you HAD to know that was coming!)

Part 1: The Air Conditioner

Replacing a window-mounted air conditioner is usually pretty easy. He said. All you have to do is a) unplug it, b) remove a couple of screws from the mounting brackets, c) slide out the old one, and d) slide in the new one. Then replace the mounting screws, plug it in, and bask in the cool breezes.

Naturally, the experience was nothing like that for me.

The first problem was I couldn’t find a replacement unit that fit the old brackets, so those had to be replaced, too. Not really a big deal, just an additional step. Next, I slid the old unit out and set it aside, then installed the new brackets. At least that seemed to go well. After unpacking the new A/C unit, I slid it gently into place. So far, so good. I plugged it in… turned the switch…

Yep; you guessed it - it didn’t work (sound of teeth gritting).

Anyway, after much weeping and gnashing of teeth, I finally took the stupid thing out of the window, put it back in its box, returned it to the store, and got a replacement for the replacement. Luckily, after returning and installing that one, everything worked fine (he said, cautiously).

Results: after spending at least 4 hours to perform what should have normally been a 15-minute chore (i.e. “normally” as the meaning applies to the rest of the world, that is), the next job I looked forward to was replacing the water-heater.

Now I’m really worried.

Part 2: The Water Heater

Pop quiz: What’s the best way to make sure a job goes right? Yes, you in the back, the one with the pink bunny slippers on. Hey, right you are: Create a checklist, of course!

So Mrs. MZM and I spent a few extra minutes thinking this one through to make sure nothing would be overlooked. I mean, granted, there was no way to tell the stupid A/C unit was inoperable, short of pulling it out of the box and plugging it in at the store (a step, alas, I skipped with the first unit, but not the second - can’t fool me twice!)

Therefore, the first thing I did when I picked up the water heater was open the box and take a look at it. I even slid it out of its box about a foot or so to verify it was still packed properly. (Messed-up internal packaging is a sure sign something’s been returned and is no longer new. Ya gotta watch for that sort of thing.)

Anyway, it all checked out, so I closed up the box, popped it into the car and brought it home. Step 1 complete; now for step 2 - installation.

(Oh, did I mention I’d already removed the old water heater? Needless to say, it was therefore somewhat critical that this installation go well since the neighborhood frowned on using, you know, bonfires for heating water.)

So here’s the checklist:

• Installation instructions - check
• Tools - check
• Hoses - check
• Sealing tape - check
• Big ol’ glass of iced tea (the national drink of Texas, you know)

Well, it checked out and we were ready to go. I took my utility knife and cut the box open lengthwise - zzzzzzzt! We split that baby right open like an overripe pea pod to reveal (sound of drumroll, please) - a gigantic dent in the side of our brand new water heater!

Yep; you read it right! Sure enough, near the top, about a fifth of the length was one giant dent. It was up where I couldn’t have seen it - unless I had taken it completely out of the box at the store. Argh! Rats! Gosh and darn!

If it hadn’t been for the fact that I didn’t have a cast-iron foot, I would have cheerfully drop-kicked the stupid thing across the garage. As it was, I loaded everything back into car, then took it back and showed the store manager the evidence. He pulled another one from storage, and together we completely unpacked and examined it before loading it back into my car.

Several hours later (by now it’s really late in the evening), we had a water heater (sound of crowd cheering). At last, hot water was on the way. At least it was holding water (something we were understandably a bit paranoid about).

So what did I learn from all this? Well, a couple of things.

Stuff Happens - Yep, it’s the old Steinbeck standard: “the best laid plans of mice and men…”, and all that. No matter what you do, how well you plan, or how extensive your experience - well, sometimes ya just gotta accept that stuff will go wrong. You know, the same thing that happened to Jurassic Park. You simply can’t plan for everything. Naw; the best thing is to spend as much time as is reasonable, then try to be as flexible as possible outside of that.

Nothing’s Perfect - Remember, somewhere out there is the tail end of the bell curve - where the defects are. (It just so happens that we seem to find an inordinately large share of ‘em, but what the hey.) The thing to remember is, when you find ‘em, just make sure you can recover as quickly as you can - and keep movin’.

Do What You Say - Finally, if you’re going to check things out - check ‘em out fully. That box was in perfect shape - no dents, cuts, or any other evidence there was anything amiss. The obvious conclusion is the manufacturer packed it that way. Who woulda thunk it? I mean, somebody at the factory had to see it - but simply didn’t care! Here’s the kicker, though: if I’d pulled it completely out of the box (as I had said I was going to do), I would have spotted it and saved myself a trip - and some aggravation. Ah well, c’est la vie.

So Tell Me

What about it, friends? Have you ever had a similar experience? Remember, these were appliances - generally easy to tell if one is damaged before you install it. But what about electronics? When those are bad in the box, there’s absolutely no evidence - until you set ‘em up and plug ‘em in.

On a more general note, have you experienced the joy of seeing your carefully-laid plans, um, fall a bit short of your expectations? What did you do?

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Do you live in Bizarro-World? I know it’s kindof an off-the-wall question, but I wonder…

On TV, it’s a much-overused comic device; that scene where the kids pop into the parent’s bedroom just before, er, something is about to, um, get started. Or, the family is in the living room watching TV when suddenly the front door opens and the annoying parents (who live across the street, no less!) walk in unannounced.

Yet another popular plot device usually features a family with several kids, where one (usually the 8-year-old) is infinitely smarter than both parents put together. Much laughter ensues as the littlest family member repeatedly outsmarts everyone in a cute and hilarious way.

See, in the real world those doors would never be unlocked. And kids that age are never that smart. Nope; never happens in the real world.

Yet it happens all the time in TV land. Or as I like to call it, Bizarro-World

The other day, Mrs. MZM and I were watching a movie (The Man Who Knew Too Much, a 1952 Hitchcock film). At one point, I turned to her and said something like, “Wouldn’t it be interesting to make a list of all the “non-real-world” things we just saw in this movie?”

Such as, for example, a small boy, hidden away on the third floor of an enormous mansion, whistling loud enough for someone to hear on the first floor while his mother is singing (and playing a piano) as loud as she can. And many, many more little things like that.

Naw, the Real World is different, isn’t it?

So lemme ask ya this: Do you ever catch yourself acting as if what you see on TV, or in the movies, is real?

Just wondering…

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I’ve always been a fan of the King James version of the Bible. I know, I know; there are plenty of more accurate translations. But I can’t help it; sometimes the KJV expresses things with a certain turn of phrase that really makes the message sing, you know?

(I dunno; maybe it’s the inner Muse in me, struggling to get out. Maybe I should untie the poor fellow and see what happens. Or, maybe not.)

Anyway, for some reason a certain phrase kinda caught my eye the other day. Not necessarily one of the more significant ones (such as, “Thus sayeth the Lord…”); no, actually, this one is actually rather innocuous - “it came to pass”. Did you know that simple little phrase occurs 452 times in the King James Version of the Bible? Yep; sure enough! (Hey, maybe it’s not so insignificant, eh?)

Whenever I see it, though, I can’t help but connect it with something I heard from a previous Pastor, who happened to be speaking about enduring personal trials. “Even though your trials may have come to pass,” he’d said, “just remember, folks, they haven’t come to stay.”

That clever little turn of a phrase has always stuck with me, and believe me, it’s been quite the encouragement over the years. Every time I find myself in the midst of a trial of some kind or other (and believe me, they’re everywhere!), this phrase has always served as a comforting reminder - it’s only come to pass; it’s not here to stay.

The Smoking Car

Back in 2000, Mrs. MZM and I had the opportunity to visit Grenoble, France. We took a direct flight from Houston to Paris, of course, but since we knew it was in the mountains of southern France, we decided to take the train the remainder of the trip. Scenery, you know. (Alas, there aren’t too many mountain vistas available in Houston - unless you count the occasional high freeway overpasses.)

As it turned out, though, the trip was a bit harder to take than we expected. Oh, not because there wasn’t any scenery - believe me, there was plenty - but because it turned out we had bought tickets on a smoking car (sound of coughing and hacking)! Yuck!

Did I mention that neither one of us smoke? Unfortunately, I had simply forgotten to specify “non-smoking” when I purchased the tickets. (Needless to say, it definitely made the “lessons learned” list for next time!) Fortunately, it’s not something travelers need consider too much here in the U.S. any more - pretty much most transportation modes are non-smoking now.

Anyway, we spent something like three or four hours in this railroad car, and the smoke from the other passengers left us barely able to breathe. It was tough, lemme tell ya. It got so bad, Mrs. MZM had to get up periodically and go stand in the space between the cars every now and then to catch her breath.

The seats were arranged facing each other, like a series of booths in a restaurant. Naturally the fellow sitting opposite us was a smoker, but here’s the surprise - when he noticed our evident discomfort, he put his cigarettes away. Now there’s a random act of kindness! This so impressed us that we struck up a conversation with him.

He’d obviously overheard we were headed for Grenoble, and proceeded to tell us some of the places he thought we’d enjoy visiting. We also spent some time trying to learn how to properly pronounce “Grenoble”, although I don’t think we ever really got it right. (But you can read all about that in my post, Change the Focus, Change the Experience.)

The last 40 minutes or so provided some spectacular scenery, and finally the trip was over. At last, we could breathe freely again!

But what was so significant about the experience was that, because we handled ourselves well (at least in this gentleman’s eyes), we were able to enjoy the trip despite the overwhelming presence of *cough*cough* smoke - and make a new friend, to boot.

So What?

Now, granted, in the vast scheme of things, spending 3 or 4 hours in a smoking car on a train was a relatively easy trial to endure. I mean, it didn’t cause a serious health issue, no financial disasters occurred, and it had no lasting impact on the world at large.

But even so, it serves as a simple illustration of the principle that trials really have “come to pass”, and not come to stay. Trials, in truth, are there for you to grow. That’s their purpose. Once you’ve endured them, learned from them, and/or grown from them, they either move on - or you do.

Sometimes it helps to substitute the word “test” for the word “trial”. Now, think for a minute about the tests you took in school (sound of sobbing, as a particular Chemistry 101 course comes to mind).

OK, here’s a question for you. What’s the real purpose of a test, anyway? Who, exactly, is the test for? Yes, you in the back with the Groucho Marx nose-glasses on. What’s that you say?

Bingo! Right on the money - go to the head of the class!

That’s right; tests are for your benefit - no one else’s. Yep; you’re the one who needs to know what you know. In fact, if we’re goin’ for complete honesty here (and we always strive for that here at the Zone), then you may as well realize that, other than statistically, it simply doesn’t matter to your instructor.

No, when you take a test, its real purpose is to demonstrate to you how you’re doin’ in that particular subject, you know? And tests serve that function very well, if you ask me.

Now, let’s go back to the word “trials”.

What are trials for? Well, they’re for us to know how we’ll handle them. And how we handle them is what we need to know. What? Did you think God doesn’t know this information already? (After all, He is God, you know; you can’t surprise Him.)

Trials show us who we are.

Think About It

So what was the last trial you faced? Was it a surprise, or did you see it coming? (Bonus: Which way do you think is better?) Do you think you handled it OK, or was it, shall we say, “an opportunity for growth”? On a scale of 1 (low) to 10 (high), if you were being graded on your performance, how did you do?

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

Howdy, y’all!

Sorry; no long post today (sound of the audience weeping), just a quick question for ya.

You guys remember that recent scientific finding that fish only have a six-second memory (or was it three seconds)? Well, if that’s true…

Then how come they also tell us that fish is supposed to be, you know, brain food?

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