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[Note from the Proprietor: In my continuing quest to avoid taking responsibility for practically everything, you can blame this one on Brad Shorr. What started out as a short post has once again unexpectedly blossomed into a 2-parter. Ah, well; that’s what happens when one waxes eloquent. Come to think of it, that’s what happens when one bloviates a lot, too. But I digress.]

What do you do when you hit a brick wall?

That was Brad’s question in a post he recently highlighted as one of his10 favorite posts that inexplicably garnered absolutely no comments whatsoever! (Don’t you hate it when that happens? I mean, you slave and sweat over a blog post literally chock full of savoir-faire, not to mention pithy pundition. But when you push the PUBLISH button it seems as though all your, uh, fan took the day off and you end up with a big ol’ ‘goose-egg’ worth of comments.)

Anyway; I did the neighborly thing and began leaving comments here and there. But this particular post, Try, prompted a bit more thought than usual (that noise you hear); it immediately made me think of water.

A Big Pile of Sand

I remember as a kid, I was fascinated by, er, stuff - any and all kinds of stuff. However, as an adult, I must admit I’m not as fascinated with everything anymore. That’s because, now I know things.

Take belly-buttons, for instance. Nowadays, I know for a fact the reason some folks have “outies” and not “innies” is because that person must have held their breath too long and too hard when they were very little. (That’s what makes ‘em pop out, you know.) But now that I know that, I’m no longer fascinated by belly-buttons. See what I mean?

As I was sayin’, as a kid I was intensely interested in how things worked (and there’s a trail of disassembled alarm clocks, radios, and toasters somewhere in my past that attests to this truth).

For instance, one day my grandfather had this big pile of sand delivered in his driveway. Wow, this pile was taller than I was! (Oh sure; I know now it was intended to be spread on the lawn, but back then, to have something like that just sorta “show up” was like… well, like a Christmas miracle!)

Within moments I forgot all thoughts of homework, housework, make-work or anything related to the term “work” (there weren’t that many thoughts about those things in my head anyway), and immediately headed out to do some serious stuff: I went outside to play.

It was amazing. For about three weeks (Grandpa, bless him, let me “own” it for awhile) this big pile of sand became my private, personal kingdom - and I was the King! I built castles, roads, tunnels - you name it, and it was probably there. Along the way, however, I learned some interesting physics about water and sand.

For instance, did you know that if you pour water on a sand pile, it disappears! Wow! How cool is that? Even more important, through experimentation I eventually discovered the correct ratio of sand/water mixture that made it stick together, giving me poetic license to create all sorts of buildings, walls, bridges, tunnels, etc.

I even found that, by creating “river beds” and lining them with something much less permeable than sand (like the clay soil we had in our yard), well, the water would flow downhill quite nicely without disappearing! Now that was the greatest thing since sliced bread! I’m tellin’ ya, that pile of sand was like a one-kid science lab for weeks.

Water: an Irresistible Force

Did you know that water is right powerful stuff? Well, it is!

Watching the water flow downhill in my kingdom’s rivers, I noticed that it tended to form little “lakes” wherever there was a low spot. Whatever happened to be in the way: walls, buildings, dams - well, it either found a way around it, or was held back until it reached the lowest part of the barrier and then flowed over it. You know; simple physics.

But - and here’s the fascinating part - once the water got past any barrier, it quickly eroded the barrier away until it was completely destroyed.

I tested this phenomenon in several different ways. With a dam made of sand, well, it pretty much dissolved to nothing the instant water touched it. But, if I made it out of mud, then water collected for a while and formed a little pool. Over time, though, you could actually watch the mud slowly come apart in little chunks, one at a time, until the whole thing weakened enough for the water to find its way through.

Once the water started flowing, though, that’s all she wrote! Small holes became big holes, big holes became chasms, and eventually the whole thing came crashing down. Interesting, that something as simple as water could have that kind of power.

First Things First

By now you’re probably wondering where I’m going with this. Well, so was I. OK, fair enough. But before we go there, just for the fun of it, let’s change the word barrier to challenge.

(We’re on an economy drive here at the Zone; by switching from a three-syllable word to a two-syllable one, well, you can just imagine all the extra syllables we’ve kept out of a landfill somewhere! ‘Course, I used up a lot of extra ones in that explanation. And, er, again. Never mind.)

Anyway, every time we encounter a challenge, there are a couple of initial factors that usually dictate how we’ll respond: worth and motivation.

• Worth - First of all, you have to ask yourself: is the prize worth the struggle? Only you will be able to answer that one, I’m afraid. But you want my advice? (I’m going to assume here that your answer to that rhetorical question would have been “Why yes!”) Don’t be afraid to ask for advice (but from a trusted source, of course)! I’ve had many a time when it took someone else to explain why something was really worth striving for. Sometimes it’s the only way to overcome the built-in “nay-sayer” most of us have on call for special occasions like this.

• Motivation - Then, assuming you make it past that first hurdle, motivation is what you’ll need to even get the ol’ tookus off the couch. (Once again, I’ll warn you now; that ol’ “nay-sayer” can be quite convincing.) The key is to leverage that worth into sufficient reason(s) to proceed; in this way you’ll build up enough to take on any challenge.

So; now that you’ve decided the challenge is indeed worth meeting, and you’re ready for some motivation, what do you do? No, really; what do you do?

OK; here’s the part where I ask you guys to expend a little effort and actually do something (sound of audience stampeding to the door). Think about (prerequisite), then answer Brad’s question: What do you do when you hit a brick wall?

Please put your advice, suggestions, techniques, etc. in the comment box.

(And if you feel like spreading the link-love even further, how about de-uncommentifying Brad’s original post, too. That way it won’t feel so lonely and unappreciated.)

_____________________________

Thus ends Part 1 of this faascinting soliloquy pointless rambling post. Not to worry; Part 2 should be along shortly. If it’s worth it. And I can get motivated enough.

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

“The Main Thing is to keep the Main Thing the Main Thing.” - Robert Hruzek (along with about a bazillion others)

How true is that, eh? Find out what you do the best, and by gosh, do it to the best of your ability. Make sure that, whatever you do, you always keep the focus on whatever it is that got you there. No matter what, find your passion and focus on that - (sound of needle being scratched across a vinyl record).

Er, sorry ‘bout the platitude parade, but you get the point, right? (chorus of “right”s from the audience)

On the other hand… After writing those words in last Tuesday’s post (insert gratuitous self-link here), I began to think about them a bit more (in case you were wondering what that grinding noise was). I began to wonder - is it possible for “what you do best” to become a liability?

On Monday I shared a story about when I was a waiter at the Corps of Cadets cafeteria at Texas A&M University. It sparked yet another memory I just had to share. See, for pretty much the entire school year, it happened without fail.

Every. Single. Meal.

The Guy with the Tarzan Yell

You remember those old Tarzan movies, don’t you, particularly the ones with Jonnie Weissmuller as the infamous Tarzan? Man, those were the best! When I was a kid I never missed Tarzan Theater on Saturday mornings. (I also remember the show’s sponsor, Art Grindle, who had a thing for jumping up and down on top of old used cars while simultaneously expounding upon the virtues of said car. But I digress.)

As you may no doubt remember, Tarzan had this trademark yell he always did when he wanted to a) stampede the elephants, b) defend (pick one: Jane, Boy, or Cheetah) from a (pick another one: lion, python, giant alligator) that happened to be threatening them, or c) go to the can. It was an amazing thing, that yell. Every kid tried to imitate it - with varying degrees of, er, failure. I’m tellin’ ya, nobody, but nobody, could ever get close.

[Ed. - If you’ve never heard it, you absolutely MUST follow this link (Johnny Weissmuller’s Tarzan Yell) for an 11-second clip from Tarzan, the Ape Man, in which Johnny Weissmuller does his trademark, um, thing.]

OK, now segue back with me to TAMU (sound of segue). A couple of weeks after the semester started, one day in the cafeteria we suddenly heard it: clear, sweet, and melodious - it was the Tarzan yell, done to perfection! It literally stopped everybody in their tracks (which probably explains why it worked so well for Tarzan). For at least ten seconds, time stood still; it was so quiet you could’ve heard your hair grow.

I’m telling ya, it just about brought the house down! Shouts of appreciation rose up from every corner of the room, along with cries of “Do it again! Do it again!”

It turned out that a certain Freshman, who had perfected the yell as a child, (un)fortunately let the fact be known. In the aforementioned post (the one about waiting on tables), do you remember that privilege continuum I showed you? Well, since he was a lowly Freshman, that’s all she wrote, folks; it became a daily routine. In fact, at every single meal for the rest of the year, that hapless Freshman had to interrupt his meal, stand on his chair, and do the Tarzan yell, not once, but four times (once facing North, once facing East, etc.).

Now don’t get me wrong; it was an amazing talent, and he deserved to be proud of himself for accomplishing it. After all, here was something that practically nobody could do, and he could do it to perfection. And I imagine he was - the first few times he did it. What a kick, to be able to showcase a talent like that!

What if Your Main Thing is Your Only Thing?

I’m a little embarrassed to admit it, but to this day I remember nothing else about the guy. Not his name, his hometown, his major, or to tell you the truth, even what he looked like. But I can tell you this with absolute certainty: I do remember that yell…

But ya know, after about the 50^th, 100th or 500^th time, do you think maybe he might have, um, regretted ever letting anyone know about that hidden talent of his? And, by the zillionth time (I figure he must have yodeled at least 1,500 times in the cafeteria alone, plus any other times he may have had to showcase his, er, gift), could it have perhaps transmogrified into a, you know, curse?

I gotta wonder… how many times after graduation, do ya think, did he perform the ol’ Tarzan yell? I’d be willing to bet the answer is - none!

So I guess the issue is this: Are you the modern-day equivalent of the buggy whip? How many talents do you have? In my opinion this question applies to everyone, self-employed or not, and I think your answer may have profound implications.

• If you’re, say, a “one person shop”, then what do people hire you to do for them? Can you do more than one thing? Do your clients (or your customers) know what those other things are? Have you told them? Why not?
• If you’re an employee, the question becomes just as important. Whatever your particular job description is, are there other things you’re good at, or have experience with? Does your boss know about those things? Have you told him or her? Why not?

Like I said, it’s an important question, particularly in these days when the job market is tightening up a bit (or in some markets, constricting like a noose). If you have any other talents besides the Main Thing, then I think we can all agree it’s in your best interest that everyone else know all about it.

I’ll give you an example. I’m a consultant, but that’s not all; I’m a writer, too. I also have experience teaching, both business subjects and other things as well. In addition, I’m very good at… well, you get the picture, right?.

Does my boss know all this about me? You bet! The more talents he can apply to a client engagement, the more likely I’ll continue to remain gainfully employed for some time to come. PLUS, it never hurts to pick up extra skills whenever possible…

I mean, you never know.

(Note from the Proprietor: I gotta be careful with this story, so let’s keep this one just between us. After all, since I don’t know who this guy is, there’s a chance I may run across him one day. For all I know, he might even be my boss - after all, he went to Texas A&M, and he’s the right age…)

Homework Assignment: What, exactly, are your other talents, abilities, etc. Are any of them the kind of thing you can tie to what you already do? What about other possibilities, like “extracurricular” stuff? How would you relate those things to what you do? How would you explain the connection to someone who asked?

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

[Note from the Proprietor: This, as you have no doubt surmised (can’t put anything past you folks!), is part 2 of an unusually lengthy (for me, anyway) two-part post. In case you just escaped being abducted by aliens, fell off the planet and just climbed back on, or otherwise missed it, Part 1 can be found here. In order to capture the nub of the gist, you’ll need to read it first.]

Use It or Lose It

Well, I hear ya, my friends, and I’m here to tell ya - been there. So it’s OK; go ahead and leave your head in the sand a bit longer. Hey, you deserve a break, my friend; we all do every now and then.

Not to split hairs, but to my mind (which admittedly is a very strange place) it’s not really the decision itself that’s the problem. No, I think what really makes us sweat are the imagined consequences of that decision. Remember, it’s perception, not necessarily reality, we’re dealing with here.

I mean, when decision-time comes along, what you really spend most of your time doing is pondering those pesky consequences of your life-cha- what do you say, for convenience (and to avoid that pesky screaming), let’s just call it an LCD, why don’t we? - your LCD, right? You might end up mentally juggling two, three (or ten, for that matter) possible outcomes. (That’s why they’re LCD’s, don’cha know.) (Juggling metaphor, by backpackphotography)

But here’s the thing. See, learning to handle LCDs is not only something to be expected - hey that’s just life - but I say “big” decision-making should be something to look forward to, and maybe even profit from (sound of needle scratching across a vinyl record).

Alright, about now I can hear you saying to yourself, “Man, this whack job has finally lost it! Now he thinks I should be happy to agonize over LCD’s!”

Well, before we go on, lemme just clarify a couple of things: a) I haven’t finally ‘lost it’; I actually lost it awhile back. To tell you the truth, I don’t really miss it; b) wasn’t an agonizer booth a Klingon punishment device in that weird alternate universe where Mr. Spock wore a beard? And c) you should really do something about that ‘talking to yourself’ thing; people are beginning to, you know, stare.

So what the heck do you mean, you ask? Hey, am I glad you asked! See, decision-making is like anything else; to get really good at it (and to realize the benefits from it), well, it’s a skill you have to practice.

One can liken it to the way a body-builder prepares for the Mr. (or Ms.) Universe competition. They don’t start over at the big weights, you know. No, they start small and work their way up, giving their bodies - specifically their muscles - time to develop. Even more importantly, once they start, they never stop.

What, you think Lou Ferrigno was born that way? (Uh-oh; excuse me while I try to shake off that image.) No, silly; he diligently worked at for years.

See, if you spend all your time avoiding decisions (c’mon, admit it; you’ve done it now and then, haven’t you?), well, your decision-making ability begins to atrophy (which is a technical term that means roughly Hey, nice trophy; so you accomplished something once. But what have you done lately?) Yep; it’s very much like a muscle in that respect; you only have two choices: you either use it or lose it.

Alright, maybe it’s about time I got around to making my point.

What to Do - and What You Get

The problem, as I mentioned before, is actually one of attitude. After all, if you can’t change the fact that LCDs are as inevitable as the onset of chest-of-drawers syndrome (you know, where everything at chest level eventually ends up in the drawers), then maybe we need to concentrate on what we can change: our attitude.

So, how does one go about changing one’s attitude about something they’d rather avoid at all costs? Well, I’m here to tell you: it’s simple… but not easy.

Face it - OK, first things first. Until you face up to the fact that LCDs are both necessary and inevitable, well, you might as well stop reading right here. (On the other hand, since you’ve come this far, you might as well finish this post. You may be glad you did.) It’s like any other problem challenge you face; until you acknowledge it’s there, you can’t possibly do anything about it - or learn something from it. (Mirror 1, by leifE)

Step back a bit - Think about it (sound of gears grinding); when you find yourself facing an LCD, doesn’t your world sorta narrow down to that one issue, and that one issue alone? It’s almost like you put blinders on and you find it almost impossible to think of anything else. Like being on a racetrack, going ‘round and ‘round and… OK, enough metaphors. It’s sorta the nature of the beast. But probably the best thing you could do is take a large economy-sized step backwards and take a look at the bigger picture. How does this LCD fit in with the rest of your life? How does it affect your world, your friends, or your family? Asking yourself these questions might even be the key to an innovative solution you may have been missing.

Talk it out - Alright; speaking as a human being of the male persuasion, I can honestly agree that most of us don’t like to ask for help. I’m sure you ladies experience the same thing to some degree (at least, I’d like to think so!), but it does tend to be particularly difficult for us guys. Sometimes, though, the best thing we can do is open up to someone we respect and trust and just lay it out there. For one thing, talking about it somehow makes it easier to face. For another, by simply saying it out loud, you might find it’s not as bad as it sounded in your head. Finally (should you be willing to ask), getting another’s point of view might be surprisingly useful in providing a solution you didn’t think of before. I know; it’s happened to me countless times. (Conversation, by jurek D.)

Involve the affected - The fact is, most LCDs affect more than just you. If you’re married, if you have children, if - well, you get the idea. But if you don’t involve them in the decision process, you’re going to be in for some stormy weather ahead, lemme tell ya! Once again, multiple viewpoints make for multiple solutions. Even better, they encourage consensus as well. What’s the big deal about that, you ask? Well, consensus builds support. Need I say more?

Practice making decisions - What’s the best way to get good at making big decisions? Make lots of small ones! There’s a great scene from the movie You’ve Got Mail, in which Joe Fox points out that Starbucks has done people a favor: they force coffee drinkers to make six decisions at the start of each day (regular or grande? caff or decaff? etc.), just so they could practice their decision-making ability. Go ahead and laugh, but it’s a valid point. (The Choices, by Orin Optiglot)

Now, assuming you’ve started putting the above principles into practice, once your decision-making muscles start to build you’ll begin to notice some interesting benefits.

Confidence -One thing you’ll notice is that you’ll start to be more confident in your decision-making ability. And there’s no more powerful feeling than (well-placed) confidence in your own ability to assess those LCDs when they rear their ugly heads! Now, instead of dreading them like you used to, you’ll find yourself ready to evaluate, consider and respond. Instead of agonizing over days, weeks, or even months, you’ll enjoy the ability to make the decision and move on to other things, with very little, if any, grief, agony, or gnashing of teeth.

Power - Closely related to confidence is the feeling of power. You’ll look in the mirror and see a much more powerful person standing there. No longer reduced to a sniveling mass of icky goo (yuck!) every time an LCD pops up on the radar, you’ll be ready to face whatever life has to offer, no matter what - and what’s more, you’ll enjoy it!

Now do you see how you can change your attitude about LCDs? Like I said; it’s actually pretty simple - but certainly not easy. However, with effort and practice, and yes, a little help from your friends, you too can become a brand new person when it comes to those big, honkin’ decisions. Maybe still not quite able to leap tall buildings at a single bound, but still…

So what about it? What would you add to the list above? How do you manage those pesky LCDs?

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

Balance - n. proportion; the harmonious arrangement of parts or elements within a whole.

We’re all juggling assorted stuff in our lives, right? School (if you’re a student), work, family, career, friends, play - the list goes on and on (and believe me, it does!) And sometimes it’s tempting to think that if you can keep at least most of them going well, then things will generally work out.

C’mon, admit it; you’ve thought that at least once or twice I’m sure. I know I did once. But not anymore.

Back in 1974, I took a break from Texas A&M, and for one semester I attended Sam Houston State College, over in Deer Park. Located on the southeast side of town (I lived on the northwest side), it was about an 80-mile round trip from home.

And, for a while during that semester, I took a part-time job at a post office over on the northeast part of Houston. Hey, it paid VERY well for that day and time; at least 3 or 4 times minimum wage (vast wealth to a poor college shmoe like me, I’ll tell ya).

See, on the one hand, there were some great things about that job, the main ones being:

1. Reasonable responsibility - I “opened” the station each morning, taking the bags of mail delivered overnight (the mail was already sorted into separate long bins for each delivery route) and placing them on each mail carrier’s sorting desk for final sorting (each carrier sorted according to how they followed their individual routes).
2. Decent work environment - After only a few days, I managed to get to know my carriers, at least a little bit. Although we didn’t exactly “work together” (I did my thing, then they did theirs), the atmosphere of the station was enjoyable. I’ve had some jobs I hated, just because of the conditions, but this one was no problem at all.)
3. Excellent pay - I already mentioned it was great pay - several times’ what I’d be making at the local burger joint or whatever other minimum wage job available. At the time, wild horses couldn’t keep me from going for that kind of money!
4. Fewer hours - One benefit of working for higher pay was that I didn’t have to work so many hours. Always a plus for a student and strapping young fellow like me! I mean, working hard is acceptable, but working like a slave - well, not so much.

Now, with those things in mind, you’d think I’d have milked that baby for all it was worth, right? (Uh-oh, you know what’s comin’, don’t ya?) Yep; unfortunately, almost immediately I discovered there were a few flies in this particular pie, if you know what I mean. For instance:

1. Working hours - I had to open the Station at 4 am every day, six days a week (I still can’t believe I managed it!) That, of course, meant I had to get up at 3 am, in order to have time to dress, eat and drive there (it was about 20 miles away, and in a different direction from school, which bumped my daily round trip up to nearly 100 miles per day! Luckily gas was only 25 cents a gallon back then!) Which led to…
2. Not enough sleep - As a corollary to the above, I had to go to bed no later than 8 pm to even have a prayer of getting enough rest each night! Notice I didn’t say sleep - I never could get to sleep that early; it was more like about 10-10:30 instead. Of course, this produced…
3. Zombification - After a few weeks of this routine, I could barely function. In fact, if someone from Hollywood had been looking for zombies for a new Night of the Living Dead movie, I’d have been chosen hands down! (Luckily there are no photos; they would only scare the women and children anyway.) But this ended up causing me to…
4. Fall asleep in class - Yep; it finally happened. See, I had to be at class every day at 8 am (M-F that is). And the first class was an Algebra class (don’t ask!), so there was no “sailing through” it. I’d come in, sit down in my seat, and because I could barely keep my eyes open, find myself “jerking awake” (an awful feeling at best) several times during the class. (Good thing I never woke up with magic marker glasses - or worse - drawn all over me.) Which inevitably made me…
5. Wake up in a cold sweat - What finally tripped the “I can’t do this anymore” lever for me was the morning I woke up in class to the sound of the bell - in a drenching, cold sweat. Not only had I no recollection of even arriving at school (much less class), I’d slept through the entire hour! I suddenly realized something: the class bell sounded almost exactly like my alarm clock! No wonder I dreaded that sound every morning! It finally dawned on me: I was conditioning myself to HATE that sound! At least Pavlov’s dogs got a treat when their bell rang.

Ah, well - after about 5 or 6 weeks of this torture (I don’t remember - it’s all a haze anyway), I finally had to quit the job because it was making every other part of my life a mess. Although it was a shame to lose out on the quite substantial cash flow, by then I was ready to cheerfully accept pauper status again, just to be able to sleep relatively normal hours once.

Nope; those big ol’ paychecks just weren’t worth it; my life ended up with no balance whatsoever. And therein lie three simple lessons:

• Money Isn’t Everything. Come to think of it, there are some legitimate times when it’s nothing! No matter how much someone offers you; if you hate the job it ain’t worth it! Trust me on this one, friends; don’t do it!

• Look at the Big Picture. One of the reasons I was going to this particular school was so I could get back to Texas A&M the next semester. See, I didn’t, um, do too well that last semester and decided to live at home and work while I got back up to speed. Unfortunately, although the job paid well, it really, really hindered my goal of, well, actually learning something! I had to step back and refocus on the big picture.

• Balance in All Things. Hey, I was recovering academically (check), making new friends (check), earning some money (check) - in fact, everything was going according to plan. Uh, except for the little niggling detail that one thing - work - was killing all the rest of them! Not good. I discovered, in the hardest way possible, the need to balance them all to have any hope of success. Lucky for me I was teachable!

So, if you find your life out of balance, well, my advice is to sit down and take a hard look at all the things you’re juggling right now. Oh, sure - maybe they’re all important (mine were); critical, even.

But here’s the thing.

Without that one thing - balance - everything else is liable to get all out of kilter, possibly ruining everything! Like I said; you might be tempted to keep on going, thinking that at least most everything else will work out.

But trust me on this one, friends: Search for, and keep, the balance in all things. Hey - manage that, and then you might be amazed at what you can really accomplish!

(Photo credits: Stone balance tower, by gilest; Balancing Act, by Don Fulano)

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

[Note from the proprietor: This here post is my entry for this month’s What I Learned From… writing project. This month’s topic is “Odd Jobs”, and if you’d care to enter (we’d love to have ya!), just click that cute little link there and check it out!]

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away… (Well, actually, it was right here in Houston, but since I was just a teen-ager at the time, it might as well have been a completely different universe.)

Anyway, ever since my very first job (behind the counter at Dairy Queen), I’ve done quite a few things to earn a dollar or two (and in some cases, that’s pretty much all I got!) It’s no surprise that most of the more esoteric things were pretty much during my sad, misspent youth (hey, when you’re still in high school, you’ll do pretty much anything to earn date money). Things like, let’s see now…

• Working the concession stand in a movie theater - and later as an usher (I took the job so I could earn enough money for a motorcycle and thus be free of Mom and the family car)
• “Help” in the children’s facilities at a local country club (a menial, demeaning task; I worked harder than I’d ever worked before on my first day, and the next day they fired me because I was “too thorough”!)
• Carpenter’s helper (spent a few months one winter helping a finishing carpenter do the wood trim on new houses - a good job but very hard on the knees because they always gave me the baseboard trim to install)

… and many, many more. But probably the most unusual of my many jobs, and the one that stands out the most was that time I spent as a Fuller Brush Salesman.

Does anybody still remember Fuller Brush? They used to sell door-to-door, and yes, that was my job. I had this little kit of samples and things we had to carry around, hitting every house on a selected number of blocks. I was one of a team of young fellows who hit the Houston neighborhoods every Saturday.

But there was this one summer Saturday I remember…

It was especially hot that day (remember, this was Houston in the summertime - miserably sultry at the best times), and I had several very long blocks to cover before the guy with the car came back to pick us up. (That was the genius of the system - they dropped us off in a neighborhood nowhere near home, and we HAD to get to the finish point before getting picked up at the end of the day. Downright sneaky!)

All morning long, I worked my way up one side of this really long street and down the other, proudly showing off our home and personal care products to whoever would open the door. (I can’t imagine a door-to-door business being too successful today, considering how our cultures have, um, declined over the years, but at the time it was quite a viable business model.)

I stopped for lunch under a handy shade tree, and went over to the next street for the afternoon slog. Now it was getting starting to get really hot. The case of samples was getting heavier and heavier as time wore on, and I began to wonder if I was going to make it. On top of that, my feet were really starting to get warm; downright steamy, even. Ugh!

It finally got so all I wanted to do was take my shoes off and let the ol’ dogs get a breather! I looked around for a resting spot, and ended up sitting on the curb for a few minutes in front of one of the houses. I set my case down and proceeded to remove my shoes and socks, and then had a moment of brilliance.

By an amazing coincidence, one of the items in my case was a can of aerosol foot spray! How about that? So I took the can out and sprayed the soles of both feet. Wow, it was like… like fresh summer dew on a cool morning… dipping my feet in a cool, clear stream… walking in the surf at Galveston (er, without the gritty sand, that is)… well, you get the picture, right?

Man, I have no idea what that stuff was, but I would have bought a case of it myself right about then!

After a few minutes of this, though, I knew I had to get going. So I reluctantly put on my shoes and proceeded on my way. Since I was already in front of this house, I went on up to the front door and rang the doorbell.

A nice lady came to the door, and before I even managed to get a word out, she said, “Honey, I saw you use that foot spray, and it looked like it really helped you. I’ll take 10 cans of it! What else ya got?”

Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather! (Sound of me, being knocked over with a feather.) I’d been talking myself blue in the face all the way up one street and down another (and doing fairly well, I must say), but here I’d made a sale without saying a word! Naturally, not being willing to just leave it at that, I started showing her some of the other products she might want. And she listened. And bought.

It was a glorious moment, I’ll tell ya!

Well, my Fuller Brush career fell on hard times before too long (I couldn’t stand it anymore!), but I’ve never forgotten that day, nor that nice lady. Thinking back on that experience, I’d say there were some pretty valuable lessons to be learned, and since this is WILF week, well, why don’t I just list a few of the P’s and Q’s here? (Well, maybe just the P’s. We’ll save the Q’s for another day.)

Perseverance - I have no idea how far I really had to walk that day, but I know that, what with the ol’ knees and feet not bein’ what they used ta be, well, it’s probably farther than I could comfortably walk today! But at the time, I knew I had to keep going, no matter what. Hey, it was the job.

Pride - To be honest, I was proud to be selling these products - they were really very good! The thing is, though; no matter how good your product or service, there is no better testimonial than when it’s something you’d use yourself! I didn’t have to tell her how good the foot spray was; I showed her.

Public - If nothing else, understand this one thing, and this one thing only: everything you do is being observed by someone. Whether you know it or not, people are watching you (which will probably make you either aware - or paranoid). But (and here’s the good part), you can turn it into an opportunity as well.

Potential - Having opened the door with one product, I used the opportunity to make the sale even bigger with other items. By the time I was finished, I’d sold several cans of paneling polish (many homes those days had wood paneling), spot removers, and of course, several brushes (they used to be the best). I think it might have been some kind of one-day record or something.

Possible - One of the things I learned from doing so many odd jobs over the years of my youth was that there are literally no limits to what the possibilities are out there in the world! If you can imagine it, you can probably figure out a way to get paid for it - if you’re willing to do your homework first.

Well, a lot of other jobs have come and gone, and even what I do now may not be the final one; who really knows? All I can say is, the world is full of opportunity, and if you’re not afraid to do the sometimes menial stuff, well Bubba, you just might stumble across something really interesting!

[Hey, if you think you’ve got something you’d like to share about an odd job you’ve had, why not join us this month? Just click on this link for all the details.]

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

Have you ever found yourself wondering, just where the heck the money is? Oh, I don’t mean like the gold in Ft. Knox, or even that stuff down in the vault of your local bank. Nope; I’m talking about where the money is to be made. You know, as in “I’ll do X, if you’ll pay me Y.”

I discovered the truth about this many moons ago, back when I worked as a contract Piping Designer. Take my word for it; it was quite a well-paying occupation (although it did require considerable travel - the main reason we’ve lived so very many places).

Admittedly, this type of thing isn’t for everybody. I mean, you never knew; we might end up working just about anywhere in the country. Big cities like Atlanta, or small ones like Lower PoDunk - even other parts of the world, too; it was always a surprise. Like a trouper, though, Mrs. MZM came with me when she could (which luckily was most of the time), so it’s not at bad as it sounds. (Nothing like having your favorite person with you at all times, I always say!)

When I first started in the business, though, it was always puzzling (sound of me, scratching my head) why client companies were willing to pay so much for people like yours truly to do something they could accomplish for half the cost - if they only hired locally. (Not that I was complaining, mind you; I benefited handily; I was just wondering, er, out loud.)

Hey, it’s not a trivial question! Under what circumstances are people (or organizations, for that matter) sometimes willing to pay far more than they need to for an item or service? Don’t you think that knowledge just might be something worth tapping into?

In due course, an assignment in the exciting, bustling metropolis of Robinson, Illinois (population: 6,000 3,000 er, something) linked me up with an old hand who finally supplied the answer to this age-old question. His name was Jerry Arledge, and he was quite a character, lemme tell ya! (Hey, you think I have an accent! If Jerry were blogging today, if you imagine the slow-talkin’, down-home, well-weathered voice of an old farmer who’s “seen it all” - well, you wouldn’t be too far off.)

Yep; ol’ Jerry was somethin’, all right. (Alas for the contract piping community, Jerry’s taken a permanent position at that great drafting board in the sky; he will be missed!) I’ll tell ya what, though - he knew how things worked. One day I brought up this very question (trust me; sooner or later, somebody will bring it up at some point during any assignment) and Jerry gave us some interesting insights I’d like to share with you here.

5 Reasons They Need You

• Skill - One thing I learned early about being a contract employee: if you don’t tend towards excellence, the system tends to weed you out pretty fast. If not from fellow contract workers (who don’t like it when someone incompetent represents them), then the placement agencies or the companies themselves eventually get the word. It’s an great illustration of an old west Texas truth: it’ll all come out in the wash. Yep; sooner or later, the truth will come out.

• Time - Sometimes, the client just doesn’t have enough people available to do it in the time frame required (which in these cases is usually immediately or sooner!) So they bring on extra, temporary help to accomplish the task. In the engineering business it’s what we used to call the “Brown & Root method” of project management: For any given 10,000 manhour job, you hire 10,000 men for one hour! (Surely you’re familiar with the practice? And yes, I know; don’t call you Shirley.) But the inevitable consequence is they must be willing to pay big bucks for the help.

• Vision - On occasion, the client firm doesn’t have the experience to see what needed to be done. That’s when we had the opportunity to really shine. Our goal was to do such a fantastic job that when they needed to do it again, they’d immediately think of us!

• Resources - Smaller firms (and nowadays, some larger firms too) simply don’t have the resources to keep specific skills on hand all the time, either from a lack of funds, or due to intermittent needs. We functioned as an outsourced engineering and drafting force, on call whenever they needed us, but not a drain on resources when they didn’t. In fact, many large operating companies are doing this very thing today in the form of alliance agreements. It’s a win for both parties.

• Uncertainty - I’ll tell ya; I’ve lost track of the times I’ve been on projects where the final design is, well, let’s just say it wasn’t quite there yet. And in these cases, it’s been my observation that the organization’s regular employees, had they been subject to the vagaries we’d be subject to, would have run screaming into the night long before! It’s not that we were necessarily any better or worse than they were, mind you; it’s just that we were used to the inherent uncertainties of fast-paced work. (Even to the point of knowing that, when the job was finished, the best we’d hear was something along the lines of, “Thank you very much - now good bye!”)

The Key: Make Yourself Invaluable

As you look these over, think about what it is you do. Are you an independent worker, basically operating on your own (although I still say that’s a huge misnomer - you’re actually now working for everybody, instead of just one or two bosses). Even if you’re a regular, salaried employee, the fact is these things can still apply to you.

Are you looking for the money? Well, the fact is, it doesn’t matter what you do for a living. Take a look at what you’re doing - and what you’re capable of - and identify the above five elements. Then, focus your efforts on being your client’s best solution to every one of them!

Ironically, of those five items, that last one was Jerry’s favorite. And to this day, I can still hear him sum it up in that typically down-home way of his:

“Where there is confusion,” he’d smile, “there is money to be made.”

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

The other day, as I was sitting in a plane and waiting to back away from the terminal, my eyes began to wander around the nearby tarmac. I noticed a couple of the ground crew walking around, doing whatever the heck ground crews do as a plane prepares to move: wave their arms a lot, walk around authoritatively, maybe even drive some weird-looking piece of equipment around. (”Hey, lookit me; I get to drive this portable conveyor belt around and you don’t!”)

But one of the guys stepped right on it - and that’s when I noticed what appeared to be small metal manhole covers embedded flush with the concrete surface; three of ‘em in a row (something like the one pictured here). Nothing special about ‘em; I suppose they were just some of the gizmos associated with the care and feeding of your average jet airliner.

Anyway, as I was idly staring at them, I finally noticed there was something embossed in their metal rims. I looked closer, and finally made out the words. “Culligan & McMillan” was stamped around the rim’s arc on one side, and “Garden Grove, CA, USA” was on the opposite side. Hmph.

And then - it suddenly struck me (sound of dull thud); here was something really interesting! See if you can follow me on this one.

Y’know, I bet those airport guys have walked across these metal covers about a bazillion times since this airport was built. I bet other folks on other planes just like this one have seen ‘em too. I wonder, though: how many have ever given any thought as to who made these things?

Let’s go a bit further, even. I bet back when the airport was first built, very few, if any, contractors paid much attention to the name on these things either. In fact, were I a betting man (and I’m not!), I’d be willing to bet that, except for the person or persons who bought them in the first place, absolutely nobody has given the maker a second thought since.

So, what does it all mean, you ask?

Well, lemme ask ya this: Why would the manufacturer bother to put their name on something probably very few people will ever see? I mean, it’s not quite the same thing as putting up a billboard on a freeway somewhere and having a million eyes a month pass it by. Chances are, very few eyes have ever even noticed them, much less made the effort to read the inscriptions.

And another thing - it costs money to make the molds that put those letters on the metal rims, too. Why bother, if no one will ever read them?

While you’re working on your answer, I’ll give you mine: They didn’t care who knew about it - they were still proud of what they did!

It makes for an interesting parable, don’t you think?

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