The Guy with the Tarzan Yell
If you're new here, I just want to say how much I appreciate your dropping by! Oh, and you may want to subscribe to my feed. Thanks, and a tip o' the hat to ya!
“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 50th, 100th or 500th 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!
Expectations, n. things looked forward to; things regarded as likely to happen



Yes, today marks the 26th Anniversary of the day Mrs. MZM and I gazed into each other’s eyes and proclaimed to all who happened to be present those two powerful, life-changing little words: “I do.”




Yep; there’s a lot to be said for being upright and dignified. And yes, as hard to believe as it may sound, I can manage it, if necessary. But, if you want to see the real me, well, just give me minute!
[NOTE: After the last two day’s exhaustive post (I don’t know about you, but I’m bushed!), I thought we might just have a quickie today.]
So, I was at the George Bush Intercontinental Airport earlier this week, preparing to board that big silver bird once again. (It’s company business; a week-long convention out West.)
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!”)