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Expectations, n. things looked forward to; things regarded as likely to happen

All right; I’ll admit it right up front. The main reason we chose Hawaii as the destination of choice for our honeymoon was because I wanted to go someplace exotic and out-of-the-ordinary. Having been born and raised in Houston, Texas, it was a place so far out of my experience that I knew it would make our first few weeks together all that more memorable. Thus, I had rather high expectations (and not just because it was our, you know, honeymoon).

Now, before I go on, let me just say this: the entire experience was far beyond anything I ever imagined. Although we spent all our time on Kauai (except for the airport on the big island), we still managed to pack in quite a bit of excitement, adventure, and wonderful experiences. Truthfully, it was enough to last us a lifetime.

I have to say, though; at the very beginning, my expectations took a bit of a beating.

Expectation #1: Nice Digs

For instance, we reserved a suite at this resort, complete with lanai (which is essentially a large balcony) and a king-sized bed. Naturally, we expected a nice place - I mean, this is Hawaii, right?

Well, the room was pretty nice, I’ll give it that. Although it was pretty much the usual tropical resort-type place, it did have a fantastic view of Hanalei Bay (the room in this particular photo is pretty much exactly like our room and our view), and the lanai had a nice table and chairs on which we ate breakfast every day. But (and this was a BIG ‘but’, baby!) it had a double bed, not a king!

Now, I can tell you from experience, someone my height won’t fit on a double bed. So we called the owner of the suite and complained (not that there was much that could be done about it at this point, but still). She didn’t seem bothered at all that she had lied to us about the size of the bed (we specifically asked for a king). I mean, she had our money, so there wasn’t much we could do.

But the kicker was when Mrs. MZM told her I was too tall for the bed. You know what the owner’s brilliant solution was? And I quote: “Oh, no problem; just pull the couch over to the end of the bed and he’ll have plenty of legroom.” Unquote.

Well, as I said, we had certain expectations as far as accommodations. Alas, the reality was somewhat, er, less.

Expectation #2: Sunshine

I’ve already written (earlier this week) about the fact that our stay was somewhat, er, “solar-radiantly-challenged”. (This photo is exactly what Hanalei Bay looked like. Except for the gray, rainy skies. And, er, brown water. Click on it for a spectacularly larger view.)

Hey, when you go to Hawaii (or any vacation island destination, for that matter) one generally assumes there’s going to be plenty of sunshine and blue skies. I mean, it’s in all the pictures, right? (Yes, I know it rains a lot in Hawaii; how else would that lush foliage survive? But they still generally have plenty of sunshine, too.)

Again, the reality was less that expected.

Expectation #3: Great Island Experiences

I think I also mentioned the fact that our visit happened to be during the “off” season. What that meant was that many of the quaint little shops were closed, and in fact a lot of the more “mainstream” tourist attractions were, too.

See, in Hawaii, there’s at least one experience you simply must enjoy; it’s the epitome of the Hawaiian experience: you must, at all costs, attend a luau. Usually, the biggest challenge is picking one; they’re literally everywhere (at least during the tourist season, that is).

An authentic luau can be quite elaborate, with wonderful entertainment, native costumes and the inevitable hula lessons (something you can’t avoid if you’re going to visit Hawaii). Naturally, the best ones are at night (flaming torches makes the best lighting), and held outdoors (that photo is the sort of thing we’d, um, hoped for).

Alas, because this was the, you know, off season, the choices were somewhat limited. In fact, there was only one available on the entire island! But, we shrugged and went anyway, hoping for the best.

Well, this one was held in a sortof large barn-like structure with open sides; not out in the open like we’d hoped. (Probably a good thing since it pretty much rained most of the time anyway.) And, it had electric lighting, no torches. To make matters worse, the food was really not all that great, and the man across from us was totally drunk and rather obnoxious; we could tell his wife was pretty embarrassed.

Ah, well; yet again, it was less than expected *sigh*.

The Key to Managing Your Expectations

By now you’re probably thinking to yourself, “Man, this guy has nothing good to say about anything! Who is he, anyway - that new superhero, BummerMan?” But hold on there, Buckaroos; we’re headin’ for a point if I can just figure out what it is (sound of crowd grumbling and getting restless).

OK; so here’s my point.

Expectations are good things to have; in fact, I’d even go so far as to say we need ‘em. They give a point of reference, and - dare I say it? - even something to hope for. They serve as indicators that let us know what we’d planned or expected would happen, actually has.

The problem, though, is that expectations can sometimes get, for want of a better term, too big for their britches. You know what I mean, right? Let’s say you’re planning something (it doesn’t matter what), and you’ve got every last detail worked out. I mean, there is absolutely nothing left to chance. Everything is going to go your way, and that way is… perfect.

Um… yeah.

You know it’s true: hardly ever does anything go perfectly. In fact, the more planning that’s required, the more likely whatever-it-is will go awry, if you know what I mean. You might as well just face the fact that life is never perfect. It follows, then, that if when you have expectations, then sometime, somewhere, you’re going to experience disappointment.

So what’s a person to do? Never ever plan, hope or even dream, again? No, of course not, ya big galoot (sound of fist pounding on desk)!

The key to managing any expectation can be summed up in one single word: flexibility. Yep; that’s the secret. And that one word is the thing that saved us from disappointment on our trip. Oh, don’t get me wrong; we were still disappointed when some of our expectations weren’t met; at least temporarily.

But by allowing ourselves to be flexible enough to creatively respond to each disappointment, we turned what could have been a not-so-great moment into one that, even now, still brings back fond and wonderful memories.

For instance, to this day we hardly remember that ridiculously short bed. What we do remember, though, are the breakfasts we enjoyed every morning on our lanai, surrounded by lush tropical vegetation and entertained by a couple of cardinals that seemed to think we had invaded their own personal space. They were so unafraid of us, they practically hopped in our laps as we ate!

And the lack of sun wasn’t really that much of a problem, either. It certainly didn’t stop us from checking out all the incredible sights: picturesque waterfalls, beautiful beaches, incredible mountain vistas and spectacular ocean views. (Although because of the constant rain, all our pictures came out sorta dark and gloomy.) But because we were willing to stay flexible in all things, why, everywhere we went, we’d stumble across yet another surprise (like, f’rinstance, that time we accidentally stumbled - literally! - upon a couple of nude sunbathers!)

Expectations can be good; they give you something to look forward to. But managing your expectations with a liberal dose of flexibility will allow you to enjoy life so much better. That way, even when things don’t - quite - go like you expect, well, you can still have an experience just as good (or even better).

___________________________

Yes, today marks the 26^th 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.”

I find it rather appropriate, then, that we just sorta happened to end this series of posts with that particular word, flexibility. Honestly; it wasn’t planned.

But if there were one single word that characterized how Mrs. MZM and I have coped with the ups and downs of our years together, it would be that one. Of all the blessings God could have given us, that one quality is what continues to turn every day into an amazing adventure that never ends.

You know, I am still completely overwhelmed with the amazing and wonderful fact that, of all the people God put on this planet, this wonderful woman agreed (finally!) that I was the one - and said “YES!”

That is something for which I will be forever grateful.

Happy Anniversary to the Love of My Life!

__________________________

For the rest of our Hawaiian Honeymoon adventures, see:

Hawaiian Honeymoon, Part 1: Dignity; Always Dignity

Hawaiian Honeymoon, Part 2: When Skies Are Grey

Hawaiian Honeymoon, Part 3: Underwhelmed

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

Surely you’ve heard the expression, “leave no stone unturned”, right? Sure you have! (I know, I know – and don’t call you Shirley.) Um, you’ll usually hear or use it while searching for something you know you have, but just can’t quite remember where you left it…

It’s often accompanied by a sense of panic (“… now where did I put those car keys?”), frustration (“Drat! I know this answer!”) or downright anger (Well, don’t ask me – I just handed it to you! – words which are usually followed by “you big doofus” or something, er, similar.)

But turning stones need not always be a negative concept, you know. It could also be related to… curiosity. Even as a kid (come to think of it, especially as a kid!) whenever there was something interesting in my path, I just had a natural inclination to stop and investigate it. You know what I mean.

When I came across a log, I couldn’t just step over it; oh, noooo. I had to get down on my hands and knees and check out what was underneath (ooh, lookit the pretty bugs). And if I encountered a stream, well, I simply had to put my fingers in it (gee, that’s a powerful wet, that is). A stone? Well, it might as well have had the message printed on it: Please turn me over.

It was like, I don’t know, a rule or something.

Over the years, that curiosity has occasionally gotten me into big trouble. You know that expression, “Curiosity killed the cat…”? Well, there was this one time…

On a trip to the beach at Galveston once (I was a tender young lad at the time – perhaps 3 or 4 years old) I was exploring the constantly shifting waterline when I found something really, really interesting (all right; it was shiny, OK?) Naturally, I picked it up; I mean, what kid wouldn’t?

Unfortunately for me, the shiny-looking object turned out to be a Portuguese Man O’War, (a type of jellyfish) washed up on the beach from the night before. (The photo at left is very likely what I saw half-buried in the sand. It’s not much to look at, is it?) Extremely bad news; this little critter’s toxin has been known to kill grown men.

Within moments, my hand, arm, and basically my entire little body went into a spasm of pain unlike anything I’d ever experienced before (or since, for that matter). Fortunately I was able to scream my head off before passing out – at least, enough to get help.

I don’t remember much else except ending up in the hospital. Although… there was the thrilling experience of tearing through downtown Galveston at high speed with a police escort. Now that was entertaining! (Don’t know why I remember that; but I do.)

Ah well; all’s well that end’s well, don’t you think? (After all, I’m still, you know, here.)

Anyway, back to the subject of curiosity…

See, to a child, the need to explore their world is pretty much, well, hardwired. After all, it’s how they first learn about their surroundings. Sadly, I think there’s a tendency to lose some of that curiosity bump as we get older and *ahem* “education” kicks in.

So what’s happening? Are we letting our education neurons displace our curiosity neurons as we get older? Has sophistication set in (a process not unlike the curing of very slow-setting concrete), and we can no longer allow ourselves to be interested in new things?

In other words, have we lost the freshness of life?

All I can say is, without the lure of curiosity, life would be dull indeed! No more challenges, goals, hopes, dreams… heck, there’d be no point in writing – and nothing to write about!

You want to exercise your curiosity? You can, you know – and it’s easy!

The next time you’re just strolling along, minding your own business – well, stop what you’re doing and, do something completely different! That’s right, friends; break out of the mold! Do something, as Monty Python was wont to say, completely different!

C’mon; take a chance you wouldn’t normally take! Heck, just turn the stone over!

[UPDATE:]

Augh! I completely forgot to mention (just washed my brain and can’t do a thing with it - sorry!) this post is my contribution to Joanna Young’s December theme, curiosity. If you’d like to contribute your thoughts, write a post or donate an organ or something to the topic, then why not drop by and see what it’s all about! Aren’t you even a little bit curious?

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

Alt. title: Why I Write Like Jethro Bodine (and thanks for the inspiration, Brian!) 

Has this ever happened to you? You hear a few words (or read them); perhaps some innocuous event occurs – or it could even be an encounter with a particular object – and suddenly you find yourself confronted with, or reminded of, a powerful memory?

Well, that happened to me the other day as I was reading an interesting article at Copyblogger from guest writer Brian Lash.

It was a stark and dormy night – er, sorry; wrong story. OK, let’s try that again…

A Simple Writing Assignment

I must have been in third or fourth grade (that would make me about 9 or 10 years old), and my English teacher had given us an assignment to write an invitation, addressed to our parents and their friends, for some big upcoming school event; I don’t remember what it was.

It wasn’t just a “date/time/and bring the kids” type of thing, either; we had to describe the event and explain why they should come. (I have no idea why such a writing assignment was given to us grade-schoolers, but what the hey.)

Anyway, I was pretty good in the English department (or so I remember – and I’m sticking to that story!) so as I thought about how to do my assignment, I was struck (sound of dull thud) by a sudden inspiration (sound of light bulb turning on)!

“Hey, why not write it in a sortof ‘down-home’ style?” I thought to myself. (I’m tellin’ ya, even I amazed myself with my brilliance sometimes!) “Yeah, that’s the ticket! I’ll pretend to be Jethro and write it like that!” (You know the fella, the Clampett’s son on the Beverly Hillbillies clan on TV.)

Well! I’m tellin’ ya folks, that writing assignment turned out to be a work of art, if I do say so myself! It was filled with “howdy’s” and “y’all’s”; man, I was droppin’ g’s right and left. It was so “down home” you could have nailed it to the front door of the Clampett’s mansion and no one would have thought twice about it.

After it was, er, done (a word Mrs. MZM hates, but I consider correct; it means go ahead and stick a fork in it), I had what I considered to be an invitation written with authentic style and – what the heck – considerable panache (a French word that means a pile of hot blueberry pancakes with melted butter and Apricot jelly on top – in a word, sweet).

Just Waitin’ for the Applause…

When I turned it in, needless to say I was quite proud of myself. I just knew it would stand out like a beacon from the dreck (a word that should need no translation!) the other students had surely turned in. (Hey, I was a kid; I still thought as a kid.)

Alas, it didn’t, er, quite turn out as I expected. The next day as our teacher returned our graded assignments, I was quite literally shocked to see a giant red “F” scrawled on the top of mine! My heart sank. Then… it got worse.

As I stared disbelievingly at the flaming shards of my incredible masterpiece, my eyes drifted down to the bottom of the page, where they finally zeroed in on the Words of Doom: “Please ask your parents to call me!” (sounds of terrified shrieking and wailing)

“Oh, man,” I thought frantically, “I’m in for it now!” Which was immediately followed by “How could such an incredibly brilliant idea turn out to be such a disaster?”

*ulp* (sense of impeding doom)

Climbing Out of the “Box” of Expectations

See, what happened was exactly what Brian described: when I tried to write “outside the box” of expectations, I ended up being severely reprimanded. Oh, sure, my attempt at colloquial prose may have been a bit over the top, but that’s not the point. In reality, I was exhibiting some truly innovative thinking (at least, for a 10-year-old)!

So how come the teacher (and as it turned out, my parents too - *sigh*) couldn’t see, and even more importantly, appreciate and encourage that kind of thinking? Why, oh why, I ask imploringly (sound of heartfelt sobbing)?

I ended up doing the assignment over, to their specifications. Ho hum; how boring.

Now, you may have noticed the writing style here at the Zone is sometimes a little, well, off the wall (which is a handy colloquialism that covers a wide range of sins; anything from a bit out of the ordinary to just plain whacko).

Hey, that style didn’t come easy! I first had to unlearn some of the formal writing style I had picked up over years of schooling. And mind you, it’s not that I’ve thrown away everything I had to learn. No, it’s just that I’m finally comfortable with the balance achieved between good grammar and good conversation.

I mean, the whole point of my writing here is to make connections with folks; in fact, it’s summed up quite nicely in my byline (that short blurb up there below my mug shot photo):

Middle Zone Musings is a comfortable place to stop, have a cup of coffee and exchange ideas, big or small, with applications in the real world. We don’t ask for much, just a bit of your brain every now and then. Have a seat, take a load off, and relax…

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

Old Joke: How can you identify an “Army toolbox”? Simple! When you open it, all you’ll find are 11 sizes of hammers!

You say you’ve got a job to do, and don’t know how you’ll accomplish it? You’re afraid you’ve bitten off more than you can chew, or you’re taking on something you’ve never done before, and you’re afraid you don’t have the tools for the job?

Well, before you hit the panic button, you might want to consider the following story…

Back during the Vietnam War, there was this fellow doing observation duty in a helicopter over the jungle when the pilot got a call to check out possible enemy activity at a certain point on a nearby river.

The only problem was, their observation chopper wasn’t even armed! And, getting close enough to fire their rifles meant, of course, the reverse would also be true. Definitely a sure way to shorten their military careers!

I mean, even if there was something going on, there was literally nothing they could do about it except report it. And naturally, by the time anyone else arrived, the enemy would probably be gone. But, they checked it out anyway, staying high enough to avoid danger.

Sure enough, there was definitely a boat down there, and by all indications it looked like they were preparing to unload supplies, probably armaments of some kind. They reported it immediately, of course, but continued to circle around for awhile in frustration, wishing there was something they could do.

Eventually, the fellow in the back noticed a big clunky toolbox strapped down on the deck, and suddenly had a moment of inspiration. He asked the pilot to hover over the boat for a few minutes, and then with much grunting and shoving, pushed the heavy toolbox out the door.

It was a bull’s-eye! Not only was it a perfect hit, but it penetrated both the deck and the hull, plunging to the bottom of the river. Then, to everyone’s amazement, within a few minutes the enemy boat sank!

Mission accomplished!

So the next time you find yourself facing some new territory, my advice would be to take stock of what you have. I mean, you never know; you might be surprised what you can accomplish with just the, ahem, tools at hand!

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

A while back I wrote a Public-Service article called Fellowship of the Carpool, and Other Small Groups with a few thoughts towards forming your own FotC (pronounced “fot-see”). Here’s a brief excerpt apropos of, well, nothing really:

Have you ever been in a carpool? I’m in one with three others (names have been changed to protect the guilty innocent: there’s Joe, Fred, Sherry, and what the heck, since everyone else gets a new name – call me Steve).

Well, the other day in our FotC we started an interesting discussion about technology, and I have to say, it was a particularly zany conversation. Sherry wasn’t riding with us that day so it was just the three of us: Joe, Fred, and me (Steve).

Fred instigated the whole thing as we went through one of the EZ Tag lanes at a toll gate, wondering out loud if there were any way to circumvent the EZ Tag system.

I suppose the testosterone level must have been rather high that particular day, kicking off a wild and whacky discussion about various ways we could think of to fox the sensors. (Brings to mind a list I saw once entitled “Why it’s good to be a guy”. #1 on the list: “We know stuff about tanks.” ‘Course, the words, “– or we’ll make something up” remain, er, unspoken.)

Two of the most interesting ideas included:

• Make a fake EZ Tag (the part of the system – the tag itself – that rides in your car with you). However, since this was rather too blatantly illegal, we quickly discarded it.
• Build a “null” tag that causes the sensors to not “see” your car passing through the tollgate. (Not that this would be any less illegal – just more, um, devious.) After all, the best solution would be for there to be no record of your passing. Sortof like Tiny Tim tip-toeing through the tulips.

Someone (actually, it may have been me) noted there are also cameras pointed at each lane, so even if the sensor wasn’t triggered, your license plate would still be recorded (no doubt resulting in one of those thoughtful greeting cards from our fine Men or Women in Uniform with a request for a donation).

This naturally steered the conversation toward ways to thwart the cameras. Ideas abounded. (Is that what happens when ideas bounce more than once?)

Let’s see… there’s always the ever-popular “cloak of invisibility” (who says J.K. Rowling hasn’t made her mark on the world?). The fun part about this one is that it would trigger the sensor that a car was there, but none would be visible.

Much hilarity ensued at the thought of the imagined confusion of the operators (hey, give us a break; it’s a long drive). That idea led to others, like a holographic projector that can overlay the camera’s lens with the image of an empty lane as your car passes through.

Alas and fooey, the technical challenges seemed at least temporarily too formidable to solve, so we had to think a different direction. (Well, for now, anyway. But hey, we’re optimistic about the future, so you never know…)

So we came up with a few ideas that were decidedly much more low-tech, and actually (theoretically, at least) possible. Thus were born the following (patent-pending) ideas:

• Train 10,000 chameleons to sit on the top half of your car and mimic the color of the pavement. (Hey, I did say theoretically possible.) Don’t forget to take the time of day into account so they can adjust for shadows. (See – we think of everything!) You may also need a lot of, uh, glue to keep the frisky little critters in their places. Oh, and flies – you’ll need lots of flies.
• In order to avoid talk (what would the neighbors say?) and a visit from PETA, paint the top half of your car to look like pavement. Again, don’t forget to take the time of day into account so you can adjust the paint job for shadows.
• If you really don’t like the idea of driving the world’s only Lizardmobile, or of having a truly unique paint job, how about this one? Buy, beg, borrow or steal a piece of sheet metal a bit larger than your car. Then, paint THAT to mimic the concrete. Mount it on top of your car with removable clips, and Voila! (which is French for Hey, lookit that whack job idiot silly goof!) you’ve got yourself a plan!

Just as we got to our dropoff point, Joe (our driver for the day) just shook his head sadly, saying, “Keep thinkin’ y’all…”

OK, before you go running to the authorities to alert them to a series of potential misdemeanors, allow me to point out that no actual laws were broken during the writing of this post (other than the laws of sensibility, propriety and common sense – but what the hey). However, this does serve to illustrate an important principle we can all use every now and then.

When you find yourself in need a new idea and you’re, well, stuck – hey, get help! And I don’t mean a psychiatrist, silly (at least not for, uh, this) – no, I mean get a few more brains working on it with you. The fact is, there’s nothing more powerful to give creativity a kick in the backside!

It serves two purposes.

First, they can help “prime the pump” so to speak. Ever seen or heard of “story starters”? Writers use them to help get past the dreaded blankpageitis disease. These usually consist of anything from a few word to few sentences, on virtually any subject. The trick is, once they see something – literally anything – on the page, it becomes easier to pick up and go forward.

Another great benefit: they can provide a springboard for even more ideas. For instance, you can sortof follow the progression of our thoughts in the story above. I mean c’mon – there’s no way I would could have made up half the stuff we talked about – it was too far outside my own experience (not to mention level of insanity sanity). But by playing ideas off each other, we were able to come up with far more than what we could have on our own. Works nicely that way, don’t you think?

Besides, it can be ‘way more fun that trying to figure it out for yourself. I’m tellin’ ya, the three of us made one heckuva brain that day!

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

Last weekend I had breakfast with a couple of good friends of mine.  (Note: this is NOT a photo of us. But if it were, I’d be the tall one on the left.)

I love it when the three of us get together because you just never know exactly where the conversation will end up. What’s entertaining about these get-togethers is that while we all come from different backgrounds (engineering, marketing & graphic design), we have a way of visualizing things that each of us alone just can’t seem to match. It’s a lot of fun, and a great example of synergy, lemme tell ya!

Anyway, one friend related his recent trip across the pond to merry old England, where he had a somewhat, er, convoluted driving experience. You know what I mean, don’t you? There’s a particular spot you want to get to, but the directions are of necessity lengthy and complex. (Come to think of it, it’s very much like the experience you have when you’re in a hospital visiting a patient – or heaven forbid, you are one. Now stay with me on this one; there’s a reason why I used this example.)

For instance, in my friend’s case the hotel concierge was able to provide a very nice set of detailed driving directions. All very clear and easy to follow, no doubt; probably something along the lines of, “Take the A-40 to the Thames River East exit (I’m making this up – I have no idea what the actual directions would be) and turn left; follow this road to… yada, yada, yada.”

However, those of you in the audience who’ve “been there” (no, not England, silly – I mean you’ve been faced with similar, um, driving challenges) will not be surprised to find that this little excursion didn’t go quite as planned. (Although there were circumstances beyond his control involved.)

The distance wasn’t that far – only about 16 miles or so – and would have taken only a few minutes (except during rush hour, of course!) on most highways here in the States. I say “would have” because in actuality the trip (including various wrong turns, backtracks, a car breakdown and the subsequent repair time) took over 4-1/2 hours!

He summarized the experience quite nicely when he said, “In my entire life I’ve never been more lost!” (The story has a happy ending however; it turned out the wrecker driver grew up not three kilometers from the very spot he was looking for and led him right to it.)

It was ironic, then (which, as you know, means made entirely made of iron), that our other friend sitting at the table happens to work in the field of “wayfinding” – something I would loosely define as the means of discovering how to get from point A to point B, and covers informational, directional and other types of facility signage. (For instance, when a person goes to a hospital and has to visit a specific location within the – usually very large and confusing – complex, how do they find their way around? That’s the kind of customer challenge wayfinding can help solve.)

I found it quite ironic (see above) that the challenge my friend had in England was very similar to the challenges my other friend helps solve every day. And there they were, sitting at the same table!

It’s a great example of how different viewpoints, when applied to a challenge, can sometimes provide solutions that no one viewpoint would have discovered on its own. Not that we came up with a solution, mind you – but we could. (Sponsors, anyone?)

Now, admittedly when the three of us get together, we partake in more than our share of silliness. But the amazing thing is, by the time we leave, usually each of us has gained some new insight into a challenge we face in our own worlds. It never fails.

So (and you knew this was coming, right?) my advice to you is this: find a way to introduce new and different viewpoints into your life. For example, in your feed reader, make sure there are feeds from people who are completely different from you. And make an acquaintance (no, make several acquaintances) with someone outside your line of work – heck, outside your world!

You’ll be amazed at how powerful - and full of value - that simple practice can be!

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!