Very old joke:

Two ants are running across the top of a tissue box, and one of them asks the other, “Hey, why are we running so fast?”

The other one points down and says in exasperation, “Can’t you read? It says right here: ‘Tear Across Dotted Line’”

Consider… the Ant

(Oh sure; it’s a strange thought for a beautiful Christmas morning. But believe it or not, I’m going somewhere with this line of thought. Bear with me just a bit, if you would.)

Wouldn’t it be interesting to be able to really understand ants? Just think; you could discover first-hand how they work together, how they live, how they get from place to place. You’d finally know why ants always seem to walk single-file, how they can carry 10 times their own weight, and most importantly, how exactly can they find their way into just about anything! Just how do they do those crazy ant things they do so very well?

But wait a minute. How could you really understand an ant, anyway? I mean, how would you communicate with them – or even get their attention? And how would they know you wanted to talk? By what means would a human being really understand something so small, so… insignificant.

See, the problem is, not only are you unimaginably bigger than they are, but you don’t have much in common with them. Their lives are so much different from yours; I mean, it’s pretty much impossible to grasp.

How Could You Understand An Ant?

So what’s the best way for you to really understand ants? Well… there is one way I can think of: you could become an ant yourself!

Now, I’m not talking about just shrinking down to the size and shape of an ant. See, without changing who or what you are, your essence, if you will… well, that wouldn’t do at all. Not only would you miss out on a genuine ant’s point-of-view, but they’d know you weren’t really an ant – even if you had the outward appearance of one.

No, I mean actually becoming one; to somehow live life as an ant. You have to be able to experience exactly what the ant is going through firsthand, for only then could you hope to get a true ant’s perspective on things. Only then could you understand them. Only then could you communicate with them.

And only then could they truly understand and communicate with you.

Consider… God

A lot of people don’t really understand Christmas. I guess that comes as no surprise, considering how much glitz and hoopla fills the air for months ahead of the actual day. But all that, well, stuff, really does is make it easy to miss the real Christmas. C’mon, you know what I mean: the actual human birth of Jesus Christ.

That’s the thing folks have a hard time with. I mean, the very idea that God would send His own son, Jesus, to be born as a man, live as a man, and die as a man… well, it just doesn’t seem to make any sense.

But in fact, there was simply no other way for God to get our attention. There was no other way for us to know that God himself really wanted to talk to us; to have a relationship with us.

And there was no other way for Him to tell us – and even more importantly, for us to truly understand – that He loved us.

Today is Christmas Day; the day we Christians celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, all over the world, and across virtually all cultures.

Isn’t it amazing? To think that even today, and for many people, that was just a seemingly insignificant event that happened long ago. But in truth, the implications of that day somehow transcend time and space, and can still touch us as powerfully today – if we’ll just allow it to.

If you’re interested in a relationship with the God of the Universe, then there’s where it starts – at the manger in Bethlehem.

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From the Editor: This post is a reprise of my Christmas Day 2007 post. It was just too good not to repeat.

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Hurry, hurry, hurry!

Yeah, I know. With only a week to go before Christmas 2011, that was probably a slightly mean thing to say, right? But hey, I’m bad that way.

Still, I’m wondering if more than a few of you are gettin’ a mite, um, “wound up” as we wind up these last few days before Christmas.

I mean, when you’re getting’ ready for the holidays, there’s no shortage of, well, stuff to do, right? (Especially if you have kids and/or a big family.) Things like desperately searching high and low for those last-minute presents, cookin’ the turkeys, hams, and pies (particularly the pies!); decoratin’ the house, the tree and the dog; all that house cleaning… yeah, I’m sure the list could go on for quite a while.

Hey, I’ll be the first to admit it can be downright easy to sorta forget the reason why all this hustle and bustle exists in the first place, y’know? No, it’s not because of an artificial advertising push by manufacturers of the latest electronic gizmos, or a conspiracy to sell more greeting cards, or even (if you’re a kid) just an excuse to skip school for a few weeks. Nope (sound of buzzer) it’s none of the above.

The thing is, when you get right down to it the facts are pretty plain, my friends; there is only ONE reason there’s a Christmas at all, and it’s this: Jesus really IS the reason for this season. In the midst of all the things you may or may not have to do, it pays to remember that one simple detail. Just sayin’.

So…

I’d like to contribute my two cents’ worth of help to y’all for the rest of this week. Oh, it’s not much; just a little something to sorta calm the waters, so to speak. It comes in the form of a truly beautiful Christmas song called “Still, Still, Still”.

Now, unlike most Christmas songs that celebrate the birth of Jesus, this particular song is actually about the night before He is born. It brings to mind the comparative silence of the world just before the grand announcement made by the angels when Jesus actually was born.

Take a moment, if you will, to stop (please don’t try this when you’re, y’know, driving!) and imagine a quiet, peaceful winter night outside of ancient Jerusalem. The hills are mostly silent while practically everyone in the world, save the shepherds, are asleep. In the heavens, a single star becomes brighter, and brighter, and even brighter still. Then hear the words (for the full effect, scroll up and click on the video play button, then scroll back down and read these words as they’re sung):

Still, still, still,
One can hear the falling snow.
For all is hushed,
The world is sleeping,
Holy Star its vigil keeping.
Still, still, still,
One can hear the falling snow.

Sleep, sleep, sleep,
‘Tis the eve of our Savior’s birth.
The night is peaceful all around you,
Close your eyes,
Let sleep surround you.
Sleep, sleep, sleep,
‘Tis the eve of our Savior’s birth.

Dream, dream, dream,
Of the joyous day to come.
While guardian angels without number,
Watch you as you sweetly slumber.
Dream, dream, dream,
Of the joyous day to come.

Wonderful, isn’t it? Hearing that song, I can actually sense a feeling of peace, stillness, and rest overtaking me. That, my friends, is my prayer and wish for you this week.

Prepare yourself, world; Jesus is coming!

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Video: Still, Still, Still, by Mannheim Steamroller

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Hey, it’s easy to have fun when you have a lot of, y’know, things to have fun with. I mean, who wouldn’t enjoy having lots of really cool stuff such as fancy clothes, a nice car, or a genuine pair of rocket boots? I mean, c’mon!

The thing is, the opposite can be just as true. You can truly have a lot of fun with very little. Hey, just ask the average little kid who has less fun with the toy than the box it came in. It’s mainly a matter of attitude.

Yeah, I’m always thinkin’ (sound of grinding gears) along these lines at this time of year, and it happens ‘cause of the Main Event. See, around these here parts, and more specifically our house, the Main Event is the annual Setting Up The Christmas Tree (sound of cheering).

The Main Event

Now, in a normal year, our tree makes its customary appearance like clockwork on the day after Thanksgiving. Although last year, in a rather daring and unprecedented move, we set it up the weekend before, thanks to a combination of Thanksgiving-day family get-togethers. (Mrs. MZM decorated the bare tree with a few pumpkins and some colorful leaves, just so it wouldn’t feel neglected and lonely. She’s such a sweetheart.)

Unfortunately, this year we got off to a kinda slow start – but I think we’ll leave that tale for another day. Suffice it to say, for the first time in quite a while, our tree didn’t get put up until the weekend AFTER Thanksgiving. (Oh the humanity! It was like… uh, like… darkness settled upon the land, and voices of young children cried softly in the night… Or something.)

Anyhoo, over the years we’ve amassed quite a collection of decoratin’ stuff, thanks to having traveled so much. We’ve got, let’s see, your typical spherical ornaments in various sizes and colors, some fairly old ornaments from Mrs. MZM’s childhood, as well as a veritable plethora of assorted little figures of angels, stars, etc. There are also things that fall into the “greenery” category (although most of them aren’t actually green but gold, silver or whatever). Finally (and these are my favorites), we have about a zillion glass icicles of various and sundry designs.

As I place each of the aforementioned items on the tree (I’m the designated tree trimmer in our household; Mrs. MZM does the rest of the house), I can’t help but reminisce about some of my own past Christmases, and the trees my family had back then. I’m tellin’ ya, it’s amazing how the decorations have changed over time.

An Old-Fashioned Christmas

OK, back to my initial point.

One year – I guess I was about 8 or 9 years old – my family decided that we would have an “old-fashioned Christmas” and cover our tree with nothing but hand-made decorations that year. Looking back, I realize it was a way for the family to economize, but issues like that were “above my pay grade”, if you get my meanin’. ‘Course, my sister and I didn’t notice that little detail; we were ecstatic because it meant we pretty much got to make everything ourselves! Definitely an “Oooh, shiney!” moment.

So – what’s the one essential ingredient to making homemade old-fashioned decorations? Why, popcorn, of course! Needless to say, this was gonna be a cinch. We immediately made, oh, about a barrel of popcorn (you have to make allowances for, er, attrition, if you follow me) and gathered all the necessary materials: brightly colored wrapping paper, karo syrup, and lots and lots of string.

Luckily, making popcorn decorations is really easy. With the paper you make cone-shaped baskets for holding loose popcorn. And, popcorn balls are easy to make with Karo syrup, don’cha know. The most fun, though was making endless strings of popcorn for garlands. Put ‘em all together and voila! you have an old-fashioned Christmas tree! Yeehaw!

Imagine, if you will, a veritable tornado of excited activity (accompanied by appropriate Christmas music, of course) surrounding a Christmas tree, and you’ll have a pretty good image of our decorating effort that afternoon. Within hours, it was finished!

I’ll tell ya; I’ve never forgotten the fun we had that Christmas. Imagine – nothing fancy, no expensive (or even cheap) ornaments, just popcorn, paper and string. What a great lesson for us as children – that we could have that much fun with so little. I’ve never forgotten it.

So what about you? Care to share a similar time in your Christmas past?

By all means, you’re welcome to pop it in the comment box below. Don’t worry; I’ll leave the light on for ya!

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By the way, the story doesn’t quite end there.

Once the excitement finally died down and the (inevitable) mess cleaned up, what was left of the day proceeded as usual. Around 5:30 or so, Dad got home from work; Mom (bless her heart) had dinner ready by six. Naturally, conversation during most of mealtime was about the fun we had making the decorations and trimming the tree.

Suddenly, we heard a soft, sorta swish sound coming from the living room. It stopped conversation dead, it was so unexpected. My sister was closest to the door to the living room, so she sneaked up to the door and peeked around the corner.

Did the Christmas tree fall over? Was Santa early? Or maybe it was a burglar, breaking in to steal those incredibly wonderful decorations we’d worked so hard on. I’m tellin’ ya, I was ready to jump up and defend them to the death!

Surprisingly, though, as soon as she got her head around the corner she started laughing. So, no burglar. At least, not exactly.

Apparently, we had completely forgotten about the cat.

Yep; in our absence, the cat (Napoleon Solo – named after the then-popular TV show, The Man From Uncle. Hey, what can I say?) had discovered all those delectable decorations and had climbed into the tree (knocking a few things off in the process) to partake of the feast thereof.

Who knew cats liked popcorn?

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Photo credit: Popcorn Strings, by flavouredechoes

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I woke up rather suddenly from a particularly vivid dream the other night. Oh, not to worry – it wasn’t the screamin’ jeebies or the cold sweats sort of a dream (although come to think of it, one of those might have been more entertaining.) No, I just woke up.

In it, I was a cowboy (surprise!) running a herd of cattle across an empty desert plain, hot sun beating down from a cloudless lid of bright blue sky. I remember thinking (in the dream, that is), There’s no food or water for these critters out here. How are we gonna make it? This is a really stupid idea.

Once awakened, you know what happened, right? Yep; the ol’ little gray cells assumed it was a genuine situation that had to be figured out, and immediately stampeded off into the night like that dreamland herd o’ heifers. That’s ridiculous, I found myself thinking. Nobody herds cattle across a desert. There’s no food. There’s no water. How could they make it? Maybe they could… uh… er… hrm… That’s a really stupid idea… and then round the circle we went again, over and over and… over.

Needless to say, this went on for some time. Eventually, though, a thought occurred to me as if it was the final nail in the coffin: It’s impossible.

Now, I don’t know about you, but I’ve run across some impossible things every now and then. And I’d venture to say that there ain’t nothin’ more daunting, lemme tell ya! It’s like… well, what the heck, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and assume you already know what that’s like.

Yep; impossible things surround us all the time, don’t they? A dream job, the perfect mate, an eventual golden retirement – they’re all around us. Are they really impossible? Well – maybe; maybe not. But I’ll bet you any amount you care to name that if you don’t at least try then it sure as heck won’t happen.

But what about those things that truly are impossible. Things like, for instance, my dream to finally be a… spaceman? (Sadly, it looks like the future I read about when I was a kid won’t happen soon enough for little ol’ me. Sigh.)

Not The Dream, But The Journey

Well, the thing is, even if impossible to actually achieve, some dreams are worth aiming for anyway. Why? Because sometimes, it’s not the destination, it’s the journey that counts, y’know? By that I mean that in the effort of preparing for that so-called “impossible dream”, you might just find yourself becoming a better person!

Even the indomitable Apostle Paul (yeah, that guy who wrote a huge chunk of the New Testament in the Christian Bible) faced the same thing. In fact, he compared life to running in a race:

You know that in a race all the runners run, but only one runner gets the prize. So run like that. Run to win! All who compete in the games use strict training. (1 Corinthians 9:24-25)

See, even though only one person can actually win a race, in order to compete, all who run must improve themselves. In that way, the journey becomes its own reward.

Not a bad lesson for life, wouldn’t ya say?

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Photo: A Cow, by publicenergy

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‘Way back at the turn of the century (wow, that sounds like a long time ago, doesn’t it?), I spent four months clean on the other side of the world (from where I usually hang out, that is). I was working on a project in the city of Hsin-Chu, Taiwan. Just so ya know, it’s about an hour’s driving distance southwest of Taipei, situated near the western coast. It was my first time to visit what we in the U.S. call the Far East, and I really enjoyed to the adventure.

Unlike field assignments in the U.S., instead of providing a rental car, the company had assigned me a car and driver to take care of the daily commute from my hotel to the work site. I quickly discovered two wonderful benefits about this arrangement.

First, having a professional in the driver’s seat not only saved me considerable aggravation, it probably saved my life more than once. Man, I thought I knew what wild traffic was like! After all, I’ve been around, y’know? It didn’t take me long, though, to realize I was ‘waaay safer takin’ a back seat on this one, if ya know what I mean.

Second, I soon realized what most mass transit commuters discover for themselves: it’s kinda nice havin’ a little extra free time on your hands while someone else worries about the traffic. And bein’ a bona-fide stranger in a strange land, so to speak, literally everything outside my window was new and interesting. I’m tellin’ ya, Bubba, I could get used to that!

But let’s get back to that first point for bit.

The Joy of Rush Hour

Like I said, rush-hour traffic in Hsin-Chu is pretty bad (and from what I understand, pretty much every other major city in Taiwan, especially Taipei). Like any other city that’s experienced rapid growth in a short time, the number of cars on the road tends to far outstrip the capacity of aforementioned roads. Fact of life, I guess.

On the other hand, one of the benefits of having a professional driver meant we rarely took a main road anywhere. This guy knew every back way, driveway, and byway (not to mention every footpath, sidewalk and mule trail) in the city! I found myself really looking forward to my commute because after all, you never knew what undiscovered path we’d end up on. It was actually a lot of fun.

I mean, we’d go zooming down what here at home we’d call a sidewalk, but to them it was a regular street, with tiny little houses on each side of us, so close I could easily touch them as we zinged past. Every one of ‘em had doors that opened onto the street, and I often wondered what would happen if some poor unsuspecting homeowner decided at the wrong moment to step outside.

Sheesh, it was both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. Especially when, every now and then, we’d meet a car coming the opposite way. It was a real challenge trying to find a spot big enough so one or the other car could pass and be on their way.

I was always impressed with my driver’s manner, too. No matter what we ran across (well, not literally ran across, you understand), he was the picture of imperturbability. I mean, nothing flapped this guy. Whether it was a case of squeezing by a truckload of ducks (likely not something you’d see too often in the U.S., I’ll bet!) or zooming down a narrow dirt road, dodging the occasional cyclist or two, the guy never once cracked an expression. It was amazing!

Well… except there was this one time…

Grand Prix, Here We Come!

For some reason, on this one morning he had a particularly difficult time finding a route to work that hadn’t been reduced to a parking lot by the omnipresent rush-hour congestion. My driver had to basically pull out every trick in the book, so to speak, just to keep us going in the right direction.

While on one slow car-filled stretch of road, he suddenly turned into what I had at first taken for someone’s driveway. For one crazy moment I thought he might be actually about to commit the cardinal sin of, y’know, turning around (sound of horrified scream) and backtrack for a bit. But no, as soon as we made the turn, I could immediately see it was simply another one of those exceedingly narrow back streets the city is laced with.

I guess the long unimpeded straightaway gave him a bit of inspiration, because as the car thrummed with applied power I saw him breathe deeply and sortof settle into his seat. Fortunately, no unsuspecting homeowners decided to step out their front door and meet their maker in a rather sudden and unexpected way! Unfortunately, the street was a mite narrower than the usual cow path and, just to make things interesting, was also spotted with occasional thick wooden light poles (you know, the kind with street lights and electrical wires strung between them).

I don’t mind tellin’ ya friends, this was a little unusual, even for us!

What was it like, you ask? Well, lemme put it this way: I’ll bet there’s still an imprint in that car’s armrest from where my fingers crunched down on it. At the same time, my stomach tightened up, sweat started seeping outta my brow, and just for good measure, had I been a swearin’ man I’da sworn my butt cheeks clenched onto that seat and held on dear life!

Yeah, it was sorta like that.

Hey, you wanna talk about a wild ride! We zoomed down that lane like we were running the Grand Prix, dodging houses, cyclists and little old grandmas (not to mention the occasional dog) like they were standing still! I don’t mind tellin’ ya, this was a tad more excitement than I had signed up for!

After a minute or two, though, I was able to accept the fact that we probably weren’t going to die just yet and that the driver had things well in hand. So, with a major effort of will, I began to relax a bit (although I don’t think I, er, let go of the seat, if you get my meanin’).

Then, just when I was (almost) able to breathe normally again – that’s when it happened.

As we zipped through one of the particularly narrow spots between a stone wall on the right and one of those previously mentioned light poles on the left, I heard a sudden sharp thump as our left mirror didn’t – quite – make it past that pole! Understand now; we never slowed down at all.

From the back seat, I could see my driver’s eyes in the rear view mirror, and to this day I’ll never forget his reaction. I looked at him, and he looked at me. Then, without cracking an expression of any kind, he briefly raised an eyebrow. Then, of course, his face immediately went back to its normal imperturbable expression as we kept on going. Yep, that was the extent of his visible emotion!

I’ll tell ya, folks, I’ve never forget that moment. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. And come to think of it, it was… inspirational!

I mean, here was a guy who was good – really good – at what he does. It reminded me of the old Pony Express – nothing was gonna stop this guy from delivering the goods (even if the “goods” was little ol’ me). He knew how to focus on the job at hand and get it done!

So next time you find yourself facing a challenging goal, take a lesson from my former driver. Focus on your goal and fasten your seatbelt. Then take a deep breath and clench those cheeks, Bubba…

Then floor it!

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Ever feel like you’ve missed the road to prosperity? Yeah, sometimes it feels that way to me, too. In fact, once I had the chance to make the turn – but passed it by. (Cue rimshot: ba-da-bing!

(In case you’re wondering, the road to Prosperity is in South Carolina, off Interstate 26, not too far from Columbia. Just sayin’.)

Yeah, I know. Sadly, these days quite a few folks are lookin’ for that opportunity to come knocking on our doors. And I’m not talking about having the next winning lottery ticket come floating in the window, either – although it makes for a nice daydream… No, they’re actually looking for the chance to, y’know do something.

See, I know what it’s like to have things swept out from under you; things like a job, a bank account, and perhaps even a direction in life. More times than I’d like to admit. But hey, who ever said life is supposed to be fair? It happens. The most important thing, though, is what happens after that. You know what I mean, right? It’s what comes next that really defines who you are.

So, just for the fun of it, let’s take a quickie test. Let’s say that life has suddenly taken a turn for the worse and the giant bluebird of happiness has just, ahem, pooped on your parade, if you know what I mean.

Would you:

a)   throw a tantrum
b)   blame “the system”
c)   demand somebody, y’know, do something
d)  try again, or try something else.

Now, chances are, if you are taking the time to read this, I would be willing to bet your answer is very likely d) try again, or try something else. Well… I’m afraid you’d only be part right. The real answer is e) all of the above. (Yes, it was a trick question. Please don’t sue me. I have nothing.)

In fact, every time I’ve experienced a sudden change in fortunes (meanin’ a downward change, of course – it’s not likely many folks would be too upset about an upward change in fortune), I’ve had to work my way through pretty much all of those reactions. (Surely you remember the stages of grief?) Hey, it’s the way we’re made, after all.

But the problem isn’t the struggle we experience while shuffling through those times. Nope, that’s not the point at all. After all, if you’re, y’know, alive, then it’s pretty much a given that life will occasionally hand you lemons. No, the thing that separates us from the herd is what we do choose to do with those lemons. And if you don’t make it all the way from a) through d) and on to e) – well, you missed it.

I gotta admit; it’s very, very tempting to sorta “hole up” at any one of those early stages. After all, wallowing in self-pity does bring its own strange kind of satisfaction. The only problem is, it gets you absolutely nowhere. You can’t actually solve anything while you’re there. I know; I’ve tried.

Nope, the only thing that really works is to get out there and try again. Or, if you’ve tried whatever it is you’ve been trying enough, then go for something different. (You remember the definition of insanity, don’t you?) Trust me; it’s the only thing that really works.

So, will you finally make it to Prosperity – or at least, on the road to Prosperity? Alas, that’s not for me to say. But I will say this: you’ll never make it if you don’t try for it.

I’m just sayin’.

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Since this is the first post of a brand new year, it’s only fitting to first reflect a bit on things just passed before we take a look towards the future, don’cha think? Tradition, you know.

So let’s start with a little, um, thing that happened just last week.

Lights! Action!

If you’re like many of us, you’ve recently celebrated the birth of Christ on December 25th. (I know it may come as a shocker to some, but He really IS the reason for the season, y’know. Just sayin’.) AND, at least here in the “Western” world, today marks the first day of a brand new year. (Yeah, I know the Asian world won’t celebrate New Year’s for a few more weeks. “Close enough”, I say.)

Anyhoo, I don’t know about you, but during the Christmas season some of the things Mrs. MZM and I look forward to the most are the Christmas music, the special Christmas events, and especially the Christmas Pageants, particularly at our local churches, large and small. I’m tellin’ ya; we’ve seen (and been a part of) some that are as good as or better than anything you’d find on Broadway. (Well, at least off-Broadway quality, anyway.)

In fact, we went to one of those “big production” pageants just before Christmas at a large church near us. It was quite a show, I’ll tell ya! The highlight was, during one musical number commemorating the arrival of the Wise Men (or, as I prefer to call ‘em, the “Wise Guys”), the three of them rode in on genuine, real live camels and an elephant! Yup – an elephant strolled right across the stage. Wow. (The engineer in me couldn’t help but wonder if they’d performed a weight distribution calculation on that wooden floor. No worries, though; nothing collapsed. But I digress.)

The elephant, of course, was the most impressive part of the entire pageant. He strolled majestically to the center of the stage like the king of all land creatures that he was, and then paused for his rider to disembark. As soon as that was accomplished, he performed for us a little, raising his trunk and one leg towards the audience as if to say, “hey lookit me!” I suppose it’s the elephant equivalent of a curtsey. The audience was very appreciative; it earned him a round of applause for a great job. Way to go, Bubba!

Gravity – “It’s the Law!”

Well, that’s when it happened.

After our friend the elephant little gave his little performance, his handler gave him his cue and he headed off towards the exit at stage right. Unfortunately, as he turned around it became obvious for all to see that his leg and trunk weren’t the, er, only things he’d raised, if you get my meanin’. Yep, that’s right – he had his tail raised too. And if you’ve ever been around animals of any kind, you know what that means, right? Yessir – when that tail goes up – something, er, else generally comes down. It’s like, gravity. And yep, that’s exactly what happened!

There came a collective “uh-oh” from the audience as, at right about the same moment we all realized just exactly what was about to happen. That poor elephant! Instead of applause for a job well done, this particular job instead earned a clearly audible gasp (and more than a few horrified screams) and a resounding “eww-yuk!” from everyone. I’m tellin’ ya; for once Mrs. MZM and I were thrilled – absolutely thrilled – to be at the back of the auditorium!

Y’know, it’s a cryin’ shame, too. All the work and time those folks put into that production – the writing, the music, the rehearsals, the costumes – it was a gargantuan effort, to be sure. But the sad fact is (at least for those of us who attended this one particular performance), ten years from now when we recall this pageant, this is what we’ll remember!

Probably Not What You Expected

So along about now you may be asking, “Uh, what the heck has that previous – and somewhat disgusting – story have to do with the New Year?” Well, that’s a doggone good question!

Here’s the thing.

Over the years I’ve jokingly said many times the phrase I plan to have emblazoned on my tombstone when I kick the ol’ bucket is, “Y’know, things didn’t quite work out like I’d planned!” (Actually, I’m only half-joking.)

Still, it never ceases to amaze me how differently things always seem to work out from what I, in my mind at least, think should be the “ideal”. You know what I mean, right? It’s been my experience that, no matter how well I’ve mapped out my future, there’s always something – or someone – that comes along and throws a monkey wrench in the works; stuff I simply can’t plan for.

Let’s see… I know there’s a technical term for it… wait, wait… it’s coming clearer… Ah yes! I think it’s called, uh, life.

Plan Accordingly

All I’m sayin’ is, hey, it’s a brand new year! It’s really all right to make your plans. After all, plans are good. Plans are necessary. Plans help keep things on track. In fact, it’s sorta like that image up there at the top of this post I titled “The Uncertain Future”. It’s a somewhat blurry photo of a corridor stretching out ahead. You can make out the walls, the floor, the line of light fixtures above, leading off into a possibly bright future. But at the same time – it ain’t all that clear, either.

Yeah, it’s sorta like that.

Hey, just remember this one thing: if you really want to be able to face the future in style, then Bubba, in all your planning, don’t forget to make allowances for life.

Yep; that’s the way to face the future, my friends. Be flexible when it comes to the unexpected. It’s the only way you’ll be able to roll with it and keep on keepin’ on, y’know? Just like that pageant. Did the unfortunate “elephant incident” stop the show? Not on your life! Folks just kept a careful eye on where they were steppin’ – and then kept right on walkin’.

Hey, I’ve known folks who seemed to know (or at least claimed to know) exactly where they were goin’ and what they’d be doin’ in the years ahead… and I gotta tell ya; folks like that irritate me to no end. Oh, it’s nothing personal, mind you. It’s just that after fifty-mumblemumble years, I’ve come to the sobering conclusion that there is absolutely nothing carved in stone about the future.

And there’s the lesson for the day year.

Happy New Year and a tip o’ the hat to ya!

____________________

I’ve mentioned a few times the fact that Mrs. MZM and I have moved quite a few times since our marriage back in 1982. (Yep; we’re zeroing in on 29 years real soon now.) Yessir, for some of us in the engineering business, sometimes that’s just the way the ball bounces.

Admittedly, there’s definitely a few pros and cons to that kind of life, I’ll tell ya. On the one hand, we’ve both had an opportunity to see various and sundry parts of the world – on someone else’s dime. (It’s always nicer when other folks pay for our adventures. Just sayin’.) On the other hand, such a life presents a bucketful or two of challenges, many examples of which I’ve shared with you right here at the Zone.

However, since celebrating Christmas is a big tradition for both of us, we’ve always been diligent that, no matter where we were, or what the circumstances, we always made sure there was a Christmas tree. Admittedly, some years we had to get a little creative (you’ll see what I mean).

So just for fun, this year I’ll share with you our progression of Christmas Trees, along with where we happened to be at the time. (Click on the photos for a bigger view of each one.)

29 Years of Christmas Trees

1981, Houston, Texas – The soon-to-be Mrs. MZM and I celebrated our first Christmas together at her house near Hobby Airport. She used to live in a cute little place located directly underneath the runway approach path to Hobby Airport – landing aircraft were so low you could actually see folks’ faces in the windows! We still remember this tree as the one we bought and never had to pay for. Don’t know why, but the charge never showed up on the ol’ credit card bill.

1982, Houston, Texas – Being newlyweds, naturally the future looked rosy and bright! (Silly us – who knew the future actually held quite a bit of challenge and adventure. But that’s, as they say, yet another harmonica tune.) So of course we bought our first home, fully expecting to be there awhile. The house had a big picture window in the front which was perfect for displaying a Christmas tree that year.

1983, Houston, Texas – To our surprise, things didn’t quite work out like we expected (a statement which is currently the front runner for my tombstone’s epitaph.) Earlier in the year we sold our previous house in anticipation of the purchase of our first new home. So let’s see; what happened? Well, first the builder ran off with our down payment. Then Mrs. MZM took early retirement – and then surprise! the bottom dropped out of the job market and my job went bye-bye. Oh, and we also lost Mrs. MZM’s father on our first Anniversary. Finally, after a quick scramble we ended up in a tiny little rented house instead of our dream home. At least the living room had space for a tree. Wow, talk about a banner year! Yeesh!

1984, Houston, Texas – Sadly, the job hunt went on a bit longer than anticipated and money got a mite short. Fortunately a kind friend offered us the use of their unoccupied condo for essentially free, so we moved yet again. Don’t be fooled by the number of packages – most of ‘em are empty boxes, wrapped for fun. It was a wonderful Christmas just the same; there is no substitute for the love of a wonderful spouse, I’ll tell ya!

1985, Greenville, South Carolina – The job market finally picked up again – everywhere, it seemed, but Houston! So we packed our things for our first interstate move. That first Christmas in South Carolina was spent in this apartment as we searched for a better, long-term place. (Why temporary? Well, the floor seemed to be, er, dissolving under us. Yep, dissolving. We had to move to yet another temporary place before we finally found our “permanent” spot.) Temporary though it was, a tree we cut ourselves at a local tree farm, along with the cheery fireplace (not to mention a nicely-lighted model sailboat) helped set the tone for a very nice first experience away from the ol’ homestead.

1986, Atlanta, Georgia – You’d think one interstate move would be enough, but noooo! Within a few months, I was sent on a long-term field assignment to yet another state. On the plus side, though, the apartment we found had a perfect spot for a Christmas tree: a glassed-in sunroom. It was even more spectacular when it began to snow, giving us our first White Christmas! (By the way, if you look closely, you can see our cat, Cookie, lurking beneath the center of the tree.)

1987, Greenville, South Carolina – After that previous job assignment, we moved back in Greenville again. This time we decided to buy a house and ended up in a cute little place in the NE quadrant of town. Once again, we had a beautiful room just begging for a Christmas tree to give it life! Winter turned out to be unexpectedly heavy that year (we once woke up to a record 14” overnight snowfall!) that kept us stuck inside for over a week.

1988, Houston, Texas – Things started looking up in Houston’s job market again, and we sorta missed bein’ back home again, so we moved back as soon as we could, this time to a condominium near the Galleria area. Over the following years we actually lived in this complex several different times. However, this was the first, a nice little place that turned out to be home for only a short time.

1989, Austin, Texas – I changed employers again, moving to Austin, Texas, for a new assignment. We initially lived in a “corporate” apartment on the north side of town. A few weeks before Christmas, though, it got so cold the water pipes burst, ruining the entire building! We moved to an Embassy Suites Hotel for about four months. Not too shabby, I’ll tell ya! Since we really didn’t have room for a tree of our own, we adopted this one in the lobby of the hotel.

1990, Richmond, Virginia – After the last project ended, we got transferred to Richmond for about a year on another project. This apartment was a bit bare, since we tended to travel “light”, but the place still had a comfortable spot for our Christmas tree. Of all the places we’ve lived, Richmond is the richest in history. We had a great time checking out all the historical sites nearby.

1991, Robinson, Illinois – Moving to Robinson was quite an adjustment. After all, it’s little more than a wide spot in the road in the middle of eastern Illinois’ corn fields (at least it was back then). We rented this house, which was nice enough, but it sure did make a lot of odd noises at night! When the stairs started creakin’ and crackin’, we could almost see the ghost of the lady who used to live there, checkin’ us out. Talk about spooky! Where’s the Ghostbusters when you need ‘em?

1992, Houston, Texas – Back home once again, we bought a condo at the complex we were at in 1988 (see above). Turned out this place became our “home base” for the next 15 years as we continued to travel all over creation in the following years. It was nice to have a place to “come home to”, though. One of my favorite features: the glassed-in sunroom always made a perfect setting for the Christmas tree.

1993, Houston, Texas – This particular year I happened to be on assignment in Charlotte, North Carolina at Christmas. Unfortunately, Mrs. MZM got the flu really bad so she had to come home. Needless to say, she didn’t feel like putting up a tree! However, just before Christmas her sister and nephew came over and surprised her with a tree anyway! It was a remarkably kind gesture that helped just a tiny bit to overcome the loneliness we both felt from being so far away from each other.

1994, Richmond, Virginia – I took a position in Richmond and, while we waited for our house to be built, ended up staying in a Days Inn Hotel for several months – hence another hotel tree this year. I’ll tell ya, hotel living ain’t for the faint of heart! There was that time the entire hotel was filled with adolescent teenage girls – and us – during a state softball championship. The fire alarm must have “accidentally” gone off at least a dozen times. At midnight. Every night. Argh!

1995, Houston, Texas – Unfortunately, the previous job didn’t pan out as, er, long-lasting as I’d hoped. (Sheesh; industry downturns sure do put a kink in our well-laid plans, don’t they?) So instead of living in Richmond we moved back to our condo in Houston. For a part of the year I worked in Venezuela, but I managed to get back home by the time Christmas rolled around. Instead of presents under the tree this year, we put some of our collection of nativity scenes we’d picked up in our travels.

1996, Houston, Texas – We spent most of this year moving back and forth across the country due to my job. My project had us first working in Sherman, Texas, then clean across the country to Salem, Oregon, and then back to Sherman again. Upon the return to Sherman, I stayed there working while Mrs. MZM came home. However, we celebrated Christmas at home together.

1997, Perrysburg, Ohio – Moved to Ohio to work on a project in a small town just outside of Toledo (home of the world-famous baseball team, the Mud Hens!) Those of you who are my age or older may remember these old aluminum trees. We found this one at a garage sale, complete with the original box and motorized spinning color-gel wheel, and just had to have it.

1998, Houston, Texas – For about a year I took a break from the engineering business and worked as a consultant. This meant I essentially worked from home most of the time, only traveling on occasion – and that only for a week or two at a time. However, on one of my field trips to Florida during the hurricane season I got to play chicken with Hurricane Fred, or Bill, or something when it took a bead on Panama City where I happened to be staying. Ah well, at least we got to enjoy a relaxing Christmas together at home again.

1999, Taipei, Taiwan – Well, this still holds the record for the “most distant from home” Christmas I’ve ever spent – 14 hours time difference! Now, even though they don’t exactly celebrate Christmas in China, they still recognize the season for the tourists (not to mention the shopping!) The tree pictured here is from the lobby of the Grand Hotel in Taipei. And believe me, they don’t call it Grand for nothin’ – it’s quite a place!

2000, Portland, Oregon – Anticipating a permanent move to the Left Coast, we started with another one of those temporary apartments. Since it was only temporary, we decided to cut costs and were quite successful furnishing the entire with garage sale items (except the bed and the couch). I’ll tell ya, if you just take the time to look, you can find some incredible stuff this way! Although our Christmas tree was a bit smaller than we were used to, overall it made for a fine homey place. Ironically, Portland is where we experienced our first earthquake! Yep, I can still hear Mrs. MZM’s loving words to me immediately afterwards. I believe here exact words were: “GET ME OUTTA HERE!”

2001, Houston, Texas – Can’t believe it happened again! We expected the job in Portland to last a long time, but due to a yet another severe industry slowdown I ended up getting laid off 6 months later. Sigh. This was the beginning of a long stretch of odd jobs until the engineering business picked up again. Still, being back in Houston meant we could get together with friends and family.

2002, Houston, Texas – Still out of work, things were getting a little glum, and unfortunately, our Christmas tree sorta reflected that. Mrs. MZM didn’t even want to put up a tree, but I insisted on at least some lights on the ficus tree in the corner. It wasn’t exactly our dream Christmas, but we did spend some quality time counting our blessings rather than moping about what might have been.

2003, Houston, Texas – Although the engineering business was still out for the count, I spent most of these years (yes, I said years) doing assorted odd jobs that came along. At least it kept me outta trouble! (Er, more or less.) This year we decided not to put up the “whole” tree, but instead mounted the top two-thirds on a large trunk for a different look.

2004, Houston, Texas – Yet another Christmas outside of the engineering business, and things were beginning to look a little sparse. I didn’t know it at the time, of course, but a great job was only a few months away. We never gave up hope, though, and kept our eyes on God, who graciously supplied all our needs. Celebrating His birth every year gave us the chance to thank Him personally.

2005, Houston, Texas – Although we spent this year’s Christmas back home in Houston, we spent most of the year on the Caribbean island of Aruba. Talk about a great work assignment; this one ranks up there with the best of ‘em! We had looked forward to spending Christmas on the island, but the assignment finished up too soon for that. Too bad. We decided to use the antique metal tree again, just for fun.

2006, Tomball, Texas – We decided to buy a house again after returning from Aruba, moving this time to a smaller town just north of Houston. Here you can see the expanse of arched windows that made what we thought was a perfect setting for the tree. This was also the last year for this particular tree; all that moving and storage pretty much destroyed it.

2007, Tomball, Texas – Behold our brand new Christmas tree – er, in it’s new, improved location. (Turns out, in front of the window wasn’t the most optimum spot after all.) The good news this year was that work was steady and the engineering business’ prospects were amazingly rosy. That’s always good for some level of comfort; especially with my history.

2008, Tomball, Texas – Er, did I say “rosy” outlook? Sheesh, in an amazingly dramatic turn of events, the entire economy seemed to tank this year! Luckily, I spent most of the year on a project that kept us going, but the future was yet again getting a mite uncertain. Still, God blessed us again this year with good health, steady employment, and gracious love. What more can one ask for? (Besides pie, of course. One can always use more pie.)

2009, Tomball, Texas – Alas, earlier this year my previous job folded. Luckily, I fell into a new one almost immediately, so that was a real blessing indeed! Sadly though, it only lasted about six months or so before the engineering business (and pretty much every other business) dried up and flew south for the Winter. Still, God kept us warm and dry and basking in His love this Christmas.

2010, Tomball, Texas – Halleluiah, a new job came along and this time it truly looks like a long-term project. ‘Course, it has to actually last that long, but prospects look good for the time being. Assuming it continues to its conclusion, eventually we’ll be leaving the Houston area and traveling the world as the project further develops into its Engineering and Construction phases. Nevertheless, for the time being we’re still snug as a bug in a rug right here in Tomball, Texas!

2011, and Beyond

Lots of folks, when they hear about the crazy, whacked-out kind of life Mrs. MZM and I have, er, enjoyed over the years, tell us they’d never have survived such insane turns of events. Well, I can understand the sentiment, for sure. The fact is, most folks like to think they’ve got things figured out, don’t they? What’s more; they’ve even got the plans to prove it, too. Um, yeah.

It sorta reminds me of a rather profound statement a fellah named George Campbell said once: “We must be willing to get rid of the life we’ve planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.”

I’ll tell ya folks; if there’s any one lesson we’ve learned (and keep on learnin’) over the years, it’s that only God knows what the future will actually bring. In truth, the best we can do is keep our eyes on Him, and follow where He leads.

Now, life ain’t always been a bed o’ roses, and that’s a fact. Some years have truly been ‘way harder to cope with than others. But after everything is said and done (and as you know, more is usually said than done), hey, we’re still kickin’, we’re still together, we still love each other with all our hearts – and of course we’re still mightily blessed by the Creator of the Universe.

Hey, that’s good enough for me!

Merry Christmas, y’all, and a big ol’ tip o’ the hat to ya!

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Wow, I bet that got your attention, didn’t it?

The Mrs. and I were checkin’ out a junk store antique shop a few weeks ago, and I happened to run across a pile of old magazines. Idly flipping through them, I was rather taken aback by the title of the main article on this cover of Look Magazine, dated February 2, 1960:

“SHOULD A GIRL BE FIRST IN SPACE?”

Well, I guess back then you could never accuse magazine editors of bein’, y’know, subtle. Surely, I thought to myself, these guys have learned something over the years.

Don’t Call Me Shirley!

A quick Wikipedia search (altogether now: what did we ever do before the internet came along?) revealed that lady on the cover is none other than Betty Skelton, one of the most amazing women of the day ever.

I had to chuckle a bit at that word, ‘girl’, though. I rather imagine if you called her that today, you’d better keep an eye over your shoulder because she’d likely climb into one of the 10 corvettes she used to set speed records with and lay a few track marks across your face. Just sayin’.

Although the whole article is definitely worth a read (it won’t take long, I promise), the opening summary quite succinctly says a lot: “Betty Skelton Frankman Erde (Note: link to Wikipedia article) (born June 28, 1926) is a retired land speed record car driver and acrobatic airplane pilot who set 17 aviation and automobile records, was known as “the First Lady of Firsts”, and helped create opportunities for women in aviation, auto racing, astronautics and advertising.”

Now there’s a summary for ya! In other words, she gave new meaning to the term “Fast Lady”! And, although she underwent the exact same training the Mercury astronauts went through (it was done at the request of Look Magazine specifically for this issue), she was never actually an astronaut. Which, if you think about it, is a sad commentary on the Way Things Were at the time.

On the other hand, it does bring up the subject of… barriers.

Barriers: Some Real and Some… Not So Much

Unfortunately, there were barriers to women back then that even one as talented and accomplished as Betty couldn’t break down. On the other hand (where did I get all these hands?), were I a bettin’ man, I’d bet you, oh, about a bazillion donuts she was a factor in the eventual acceptance of women in the Astronaut Corps (and a lot of other places, too).

Nevertheless, the wiki article did get me to thinkin’ (sound of grinding gears)…

When I was a kid, there were a lot of things I couldn’t do. You remember what it was like, don’cha? For instance (just to name three) I couldn’t drive a car (I was too young), I couldn’t understand physics (I hadn’t accumulated enough scientific knowledgeable) and, once I got a car, I couldn’t get a date (sadly, I had little or no social skills luck whatever with the fairer half of the population *sigh*).

See, some barriers are truly, well, for lack of a better term, real. Age, for example. In that case, there’s nothing you can do about that kind of barrier except wait for it to fall in its own good time. Hey, I had to grow up eventually, right? (Well, there were a few major boners I pulled when I was young that probably had my parents wonderin’ about that one. But I digress.)

On the other hand, many other kinds of barriers (such as that lack of knowledge I mentioned above) are more a product of how I thought of myself. Once again, though, how to overcome such a barrier was obvious: I needed to work harder and learn more! In other words, it was up to me.

Where’s That Barrier Now?

Over the course of my life many other barriers have fallen, too. For instance, I used to think I couldn’t write. Well, as I’ve discovered over the last few years, obviously that’s not a problem anymore. Although it didn’t happen overnight, with much time, effort, and the sweat of my brow, I now claim to be a writer because, well, I write, right?

But here’s the thing. If I were, for instance, to still insist I couldn’t write… Well, what would have happened is that particular barrier, which may have once been real, if you get my meanin’, is now simply imagined. See the difference? The fact that the barrier once actually existed always made a great excuse. Hey, I could always claim forces outside my control, y’know? (sound of millions of us shouting, “It’s not my fault!”) But now that it’s gone, well, why would I want to leave it hangin’, if you know what I mean?

The good news, though, is lots of other use-to-be-barriers are gone, too. The question, though, is, have I been paying attention? That leads me to another question: I wonder what other barriers aren’t there anymore?  Which of course leads up that all important final follow-up question: What barriers used to hold me back but now are gone and I now longer have excuse?

I wonder… what barriers used to hold you back – but aren’t there any more?

_________________

Some evenings ago, as the last of the day’s clear light began to wane, the Mrs. and I spent a short time outside on our patio, breathing in the wonderfully mild Fall weather. After spending a companionable few moments enjoying an almost magic, whispering silence, our reverie was rudely interrupted by this little scene playing out at the very top of a tall pine tree a few houses away.

Shattered Silence

The bird at the top right is a crow, easily identifiable by his distinctive cry. (sound of “caw, caw, caw”) The little guy at the bottom left is a Mockingbird, and I could clearly hear him respond (in an easily-imagined New York Cabbie accent) the bird equivalent of “Hey, who ya t’ink ya talkin’ to, Tiny?” (After all, they are mocking birds, y’know. Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha! Er, sorry.)

Anyway, these two seemed to be having quite a noisy disagreement about who got to sit on this old dead limb, I’ll tell ya! Apparently, the Mockingbird was lettin’ that crow know, and in no uncertain terms, “Dis tree ain’t big enough for da both of us!”

This went of for a few more minutes, then apparently enduring one too many insults, the Mockingbird suddenly flew up and attacked the much bigger crow, driving him from his perch! Wow, talk about a feisty little fellah! That crow mustered what dignity he had left (because, y’know, dignity is so important to birds *rolls eyes*) and decided he’d had enough. As the two of them flew off into the sunset, that Mockingbird continued to harass the defeated crow, flying circles around him and chirping as if to shout, “An’ I don’t wanna see youse around here again, ya big turkey!”

After they left, peace and quiet once again reigned over the land.

Question of the Day

When was the last time you took on something bigger than yourself?

_________________

In one of my favorite all-time romantic comedies, the 1972 movie What’s Up Doc, it quickly becomes obvious this is no ordinary love story! It’s a wonderfully hilarious treatment of the old oil-and-water-don’t mix relationship that’ll literally have you in stitches from start to finish.

In one scene, after becoming increasingly aggravated by Judy Maxwell (Barbara Streisand), Howard Bannister (Ryan O’Neal) finally cries out in frustration, “Why do you have to be so different!” She looks abashed for a moment, then quietly replies, “I’m sorry; I don’t mean to be so different. From now on, I’ll try to be the same.”

[Note from the Proprietor: If you’ve never seen this movie, by all means do. It’s worth it. Trust me on this.]

I said all that to ask ya this: Do you consider yourself to be “different”? (Forget everyone else’s opinion for the moment. If you’re anything like me, they will likely think you’re, y’know, insane.)

Anyhoo, I’d be willin’ to bet the farm (that is, if I had one) you probably do. To my mind (which admittedly can be a very strange place), we all like to think of ourselves as unique. But (and here’s the nub of the gist) does it aggravate you when you encounter folks who are different? Yeah, me too. Well, sometimes, anyway.

Vive le Differénce

I’ll tell ya; it never ceases to amaze me how each and every human being on the planet can be so… different. It’s true; we can separate ourselves into groups in a whole herd o’ ways – there is literally no limit . And I mean that in a good way. Really.

Take, for instance, U.S. politics (please!) I mean, you got your Republicans and your Democrats. And if that ain’t enough of a difference for you, well, you got your Libertarians, your Greens and your Independents, too. And that’s just the tip o’ the compost heap. Then there’s schools: every college or university you care to name (and more). And we all identify from different countries and home towns, don’t we? Oh, I could go on, but I think you get my meanin’, right? The fact is, we ARE all pretty different.

On the other hand…

You know how they say that long-time married couples begin to act, think, and even look alike after awhile? (Heaven help Mrs. MZM if, y’know, that last one is true!) Well, while that may or may not be the case, even so, those of us who’ve spent a lot of time in each other’s company can still be, when you get right down to it, amazingly different.

Keepin’ It Simple

Take, for instance, the curious case of Yours Truly and the ever-gorgeous Mrs. MZM. After more than 28 excitin’ fun-filled years of marital bliss (that’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it) we have, in many ways, grown to be quite alike. However, in certain other ways we can still be as different as day and, er, not day. I’ll give you an example.

The other evening we decided to have something “simple” for supper (happens a lot around our house). That usually means something along the lines of, say, a tuna fish sandwich. Now, over the years Mrs. MZM, bless her sweet little well-meaning heart, has tried to stealthily slip various and sundry “extra ingredients” into the tuna mix. Thus, every now and then I’d occasionally inadvertently bite down on unexpected stuff like diced pecans, diced celery, or even diced boiled egg. (One time, it was diced grapes, for cryin’ out loud! Now I’ll admit it had a kinda interestin’ flavor, but it turned the whole thing a mite soggy. Ick.)

Well Bubba, I don’t mind tellin’ ya; when it comes to my tuna fish sandwich, I’m something of a purist, if you get my meanin’. And so (with the exception of the diced egg, which turned out to be a pretty tasty addition – and also, by the way, proving you can teach an ol’ dog like me new tricks), I really don’t like anything else sneakin’ around in there. I’m just sayin’.

Different Strokes

The upshot is, I know what to expect when it comes to tuna fish sandwiches (and pretty much sandwiches in general). No surprises is just the way I like ‘em.

BUT (and as you can see, that’s a mighty BIG ‘but’), there is still a major difference in the way the two of us prepare our sandwiches. As you can no doubt see in the photo, I like mine cut, er, properly, and she… well, she cuts hers “in a different way” (which in this case, is a euphemism for “wrong”).

Yep; the truth is out. We’re different. (sound of surprised gasp) Is that bad? Not on your life! Hey, when it comes to our differences, I say, “Vive le differénce!”

__________________

BONUS: “So,” I can hear you ask, “Which one of these sandwiches is mine, and which one is, well, wrong?”

Hey, I’ll leave it to you, my dear kind reader, to ascertain (yet another euphemism, meaning “guess”) which one of these delicious works of performance art is which.

(But if you’d like to guess, by all means leave a comment in the box – and let me know how you made your guess decision. If you know anything about me, it’ll probably be obvious. Just sayin’.)

__________________

I shot this photo the other day while visiting the Boardwalk area of the tiny coastal town of Kemah, Texas. I happened to notice, just a short distance away, a set of wooden posts out on the very edge of the shore.

Usually posts like this are covered with seagull poop seagulls. What kinda caught my eye was the fact that this time there was only a single bird there.

The Watcher

Now, if you click on the photo you’ll see it more clearly (it’ll take you to the Flickr page). It appears as if the seagull is checkin’ out those two sailboats as they zip off into the distance. On noticing that tiny detail, I was struck by a thought (sound of dull thud).

I thought it somewhat ironic how we humans, with our big giant brains (mind you, I’m speakin’ figuratively, not necessarily personally), can be so proud of our accomplishments. I mean, here are these two guys who, with a little diligence (not to mention a little cash) managed to learn how to spread a sail, capture the wind, and use it to drive themselves across the sea in an exhilarating fashion. (Hey, I’ve done it, and I can tell you it’s quite a rush!)

In the meantime, this little bird, with a brain no bigger than your average pea, simply spreads his wings and, with virtually no effort, sails up into the skies with nary a care in the world. And all on a budget of free-for-the-taking sardines, too.

But wait, you say, that’s not a fair comparison. It’s in the bird’s nature to fly. After all, he has wings. And if a bird spreads ‘em while the wind is blowing, well, physics happens, y’know?

We humans, on the other hand, have to learn everything for ourselves – ‘cause when we’re born, we got nothin’! I mean, we got no wings. We got no instincts. Alas, we got no aerodynamic shapes anywhere. In fact, if I were to jump off a cliff with only the things I was born with, the only physics that’ll happen is somethin’ along the lines of drop-like-a-sack-of-overripe-plums. Kinda excitin’ for a while, but then there’s that pesky sudden stop at the bottom.

OK, fair enough; birds can fly, and human-types can’t – at least, not without a lot of help. So what?

It’s About Potential…

The thing, I think, that makes the difference between the bird and the sailor, though, is the difference in their potential. See, a bird, bless his little pea-brain, is just a bird. He’s born a bird. He lives as a bird, and he’ll pass on to that great sky in the, er, sky, as – yep, you guessed it – a bird. What’s more (and here’s the nub of the gist, if you get my meanin’), he can never be anything but a bird (no matter how many times you read Jonathan Livingston Seagull). It’s just not in his nature.

Ah, but a human being, now – well that’s a whole ‘nuther pile o’ potatoes! Hey, as far as I’m concerned, one of the most amazing things about us human beings is the tremendous potential there is within every one of us. I mean, think about it (sound of grinding gears).

As I mentioned earlier, when we’re born, we have pretty much nothing. No instincts, no innate knowledge, practically a clean slate. We’re nothing more than a cute little squirming bundle of potentiality. (For the sake of expediency, I’m assumin’ that “cute” bit is always true.)

The fact is, given the opportunity (and the means, although that certainly doesn’t stop some folks) any baby can become pretty much anything they eventually want to be – subject to the laws of reality, of course. (Shame about reality, ain’t it? *Sigh* That’s pretty much why I had to give up on my childhood dream of, y’know, bein’ a spaceman.) All throughout our lives, we’re constantly besieged by all kinds of influences. Family, friends, information, you name it – it all goes into the mysterious mix that is us.

… And It’s About Choice

On top of that, there’s the matter of choice. Practically every moment of every day we’re faced with the need to make decisions. Sometimes big ones, sometimes little inconsequential ones, but you might as well face it; you’ll never be able to avoid them for long.

Admittedly, as a kid I rarely gave any thought to any possible long-term consequences my choices would create. Hey, that’s just the way it is when you’re a kid, y’know? Lack of experience, I know.

However, there’s no avoiding the fact that some of those choices did, indeed, form the basis for what I’m doing – and indeed, who I am – today. Do our choices limit who we can become in the future? I’m gonna say – most certainly. But is that necessarily a bad thing? Well, in my humble opinion, probably not.

That innate ability to become something we’re not, now that’s an exciting prospect, wouldn’t you say?

So What About You?

So lemme ask ya; do you think you’ve reached your full potential? What makes you think so? And if you still have one or two things on your horizon, how do you plan to get there?

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Morning Dew

Night fog lifted

Gentle morning dew

Dawn-kissed jewels

Sleeps lightly on summer grass

Refreshed and renewed

Awaiting a child’s playful tread

As I stepped out the other morning to head for work, I happened to take a few moments to admire the fresh coating of morning’s dew on our lawn. The way the myriad droplets were just beginning to catch the first rays of the rising sun was just… inspirational!

Few things inspire me to write poetry; I freely admit to being not too much of a poet. I dunno; bein’ an engineer and all, maybe I’m just too literal to be very good at it. But still… when I see something like this, it just makes me want to try. Hope you liked it.

[Note from the proprietor on the poem: Liked it? Hated it? Couldn’t care less? Hey, I’m not too old a dog to learn a few new tricks. If you have any critiques, comments, or suggestions – bring ‘em on!]

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“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…”

- opening line of “A Tale of Two Cities”, by Charles Dickens

Well, it ain’t exactly Dickens, but please allow me to share with you the following tale of two corridors…

Corridor #1

I was moseying down (that’s “walking”, for y’all non-Texans in the audience) a fairly long hallway at my workplace the other day (see the photo on the right) when I noticed an interesting phenomenuh an interesting phenominom something unusual.

As I gradually approached the double doors at the end of the corridor (it’s that small black square waaay down there), it almost seemed as though, instead of getting closer, the hallway was growing longer. An optical illusion, to be sure, but still a bit disconcerting. Only as I finally neared the end did everything sorta go back to normal again. (Of course, “normal” in my world is a relative term – but that’s an entirely different skillet o’ catfish.)

Needless to say, it was an odd little bit of perspective shift – almost claustrophobic, if you know what I mean. Strange.

Corridor #2

Another day, another corridor, this one on the way to the company cafeteria…

Not surprisingly, there was a distinctly different feel to this one. Unlike that other weird, Twilight-Zone-esque corridor, this one engendered no odd sense of eternity stretching out before me. This time it was just a pleasant walk. (Of course, the prospect of, y’know, food at the end may have had something to do with it. Just sayin’.)

So what was the difference?

Well, obviously one big difference is the fact that the second corridor is lined with windows, right? Not only does the outside view make the corridor “feel” bigger, but the scenery is a lot more interesting.

Also, I think the vertical window frames serve as a sortof, well, let’s call it a “progress meter” (at least to the subconscious mind, anyway), silently ticking the moments by as I made my way down its length (the two corridors are pretty much the same length. Unlike the first corridor, which seems like a gray, almost unbroken tunnel, this one is light and cheery with, as I mentioned before, something delicious at the end of it.

So What?

By now you’re probably wonderin’ to yourselves just what the heck this all has to do with the price of a side o’ beef in, say, Timbuktu. Well, I guess the best answer is, “Not much.” On the other hand, though, thinkin’ of these two corridors did make me reflect a bit on life, the universe, and… well, you get the picture, right?

If your life is anything like mine, you’ve surely experienced a period of waiting at some time or another. Yep; thought so. Sometimes it feels almost like life is a nothing but a never-ending series of momentary events, preceded by periods of restless waiting, doesn’t it?

Take job-hunting, for instance (please!) I’ve done my share of it, and every time it’s the same thing: work like mad to generate job leads, send a stream of resumes out to even the remotest of possibilities, and no matter what, leave no stone unturned in that quest for employment.

The biggest problem with this sort of thing is, it’s really hard to tell if you’re getting anywhere! Kinda like moseyin’ down that first corridor, y’know? Trust me, I know; most folks have been there too. You’re walkin’, walkin’, and still walkin’ – but you can’t tell if you’re makin’ any headway. In fact, it may even seem like you’re losing ground.

Conversely, other times the job hunt has progressed relatively steadily. From initial contact to the resume submittal, then on to that first interview, negotiation and then – employment! (sound of crowd cheering) Yeah, I’ve had that one happen, too, and when it does it’s more like that second corridor, the one with the windows, the view, and the reward at the end.

Strange how life seems to imitate art corridors, isn’t it? But still, I find it’s not the waiting that gets me down. It’s the fact that I can’t see if things are progressing. (And it’s not just that they’re not progressing as I want them too; it’s that they don’t seem to be progressing at all.)

Sad to say, most waiting periods are like that. You get no sense of what’s happening outside of your own personal world – of the things going on behind the scenes. Whereas, if you can actually see things progressing, get some feedback from the outside world – well, it makes the passing of time and the waiting a whole lot easier, don’t you think?

What to Do?

Anyhoo – I brought all this up to offer an encouraging word or two, should you happen to actually be in a waiting period right now (uh, is anyone not?)

First of all, suffice it to say I know exactly how you feel, and it ain’t no fun, I can tell ya. The good news is, there are some things you can do to help alleviate that stretched-out eternity feeling.

Don’t shut your spouse out. OK, obviously, if you’re not married then this one won’t apply to you. But if you are, then you have a built-in support mechanism from someone who once said they’d be there for you through thick and thin. It never ceases to amaze me how many folks (sadly, we men are especially guilty of this one) would rather try and “work things out” for ourselves. It stems from a feeling that by admitting we’re troubled we’ll appear weak or something. Hey, I’ve been there; I know. All I can say is, if you’re blessed with a spouse who loves you, then share your life with ‘em – all of it. Trust me when I tell you it can be truly rewarding!

Keep in touch  with your friends. I’ve noticed it over the years, and I bet you have too: having a friend to talk to makes time pass a whole lot faster than if you’re spending it all alone. Especially if you’re spending your time alone thinkin’ oh, woe is me! (Been there!) If you’re in the waiting room, find a friend to spend some time with. If you don’t have a handy friend, go make a new one! Even better, find a friend who’s down in the dumps and, instead of you both sobbing into your root beers, try passing along an encouraging word or two. Nothing dispels self-absorption like lifting the spirits of someone else!

Learn something new. One of the things I promised myself long ago was to never stop learning new stuff. Whether it’s discovering photography, learning to appreciate Masterpiece Theater, or finally getting good at juggling chainsaws (better make sure your Life Insurance is paid up for that one!), it’s always a good thing to expand your brain into new pathways. A bonus: you’ll be surprised how it’ll give you new insights into all those old challenges, too. And there’s nothin’ like stirrin’ up the little gray cells now and then to breathe fresh air into otherwise stagnant thinking.

Keep on walkin’ Bubba! (Or if you’re in Texas, keep on moseyin’.) Put this one in blazing letters a foot high, my friend! The worst thing you can do is… stop. Stop trying, stop learning, stop talking – to stop living. Hey, waiting is one thing – we all end up there sooner or later. But stopping is a whole ‘nuther animal altogether. Keep doin’ what you know to do, and never lose hope. Trust that outside of your perception, outside of that dark, long corridor, things really are happening. Use your imagination and put some windows in that long, dark corridor you’re traveling. (OK, no more metaphors, I promise!) You have to believe that and keep goin’ with all your heart because, in fact, it’s true! One thing we can all agree on is that life is all about change, and change happens all the time, all around us. Just because you can’t see it happening…

This Too Shall Pass

Just remember, Bubba; these things haven’t come to stay in your life. Nope, they’ve come to pass. And in passing, we grow.

Are you in life’s waiting room at the moment? Then join the crowd! Trust me; you’re not the Lone Stranger in here – not by a long shot! In fact, at the moment, I’m right there with ya! (Why not come on over and we’ll visit a spell? Just look for the hat.)

Care to tell us about it? What other techniques have you learned over the years that have helped you – and maybe can help the rest of us as we wait? Take a moment, why don’t you, and share ‘em with us down there in the comment box. Hey, we’ll surely thank you!

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I don’t know if you’ve ever had the opportunity to check out the inside of a piano, but if you can, do yourself a favor: go find one and take a good look. I mean, these things are a marvel! What you’ll find is an amazing intersection of three completely different disciplines: engineering, craftsmanship, and physics.  the embodiment of the blend of form and function.

You know what I like the best about a piano, though? It’s that, when you look inside the (usually) beautifully handcrafted wooden case, it’s all so wonderfully, I don’t know, analog! And in today’s digital world, I find that kindof refreshing, don’t you?

Busy, Busy, Busy

Let’s see… inside, there’s about a zillion moving parts: wood and/or metal levers, little wooden hammers, strips of felt, metal pins, not to mention hundreds of wires ranging from very thin ones to thick, multi-wrapped monsters. I’m tellin’ ya; it’s a veritable Rube Goldberg-esque device, inside there.

One of the first things that always impressed me with your average piano is the internal structure of the wooden case. There are smooth wooden ribs and structural members running every which way in there. In fact, it’s amazing how they manage to get all that stuff in there and still leave room for the mechanical parts, too.

The thing is, a piano really needs that strength. Why? Well, there are 88 keys on the typical piano. And for each key, there are actually three piano wires. That makes a total of (hrm, let’s see now… I’m gonna have to take my shoes and socks off for this calculation…), uh, 264 wires! And all those wires, when properly tuned, produce an awful lot of… tension.

Did you know, in a modern grand piano, the total force created by the tension in those wires can be greater than 10 tons?

That Thing We Love To Hate

Ah; tension – it ranks right up there as one of the things we most love to hate, doesn’t it? Sometimes we call it stress, or strain, or even opposition, but it’s almost always the same thing. It’s that thing that opposes what we want to do.

Funny thing, though. Most of us spend so much time doing our best to avoid stress and tension in our lives (and I must admit to being no exception to that crowd), but we sometimes completely miss the fact that tension is actually a pretty useful thing to have. (sound of incredulity from the audience) No, really!

Let’s use this piano as an example. I mean, when you get right down to it, the very reason for a piano’s existence (and pretty much any stringed instrument, for that matter) is to provide a way to stretch a series of strings out in such a way as to produce music. And to do that, you have to have two anchor point (one fixed and one adjustable), and something to string between them.

Now, to produce the proper musical sound, you have to do what? (Yes, you in the back with your hand raised.) That’s right: stretch the dickens outta that wire! (or string, or gut, or whatever) Yep; ya gotta put the thing under a great deal of tension. And isn’t tension just another way of saying “getting pulled in two different directions”?

Otherwise, instead of, say, Mozart we’d get, I don’t know, maybe something that sounds a lot like a war between rogue gangs of alley cats. Believe me, when you’re sittin’ there in front of thousands of folks in Carnegie Hall, about to play your first virtuoso performance, well, that wouldn’t do at all! (Unless, of course, you were, y’know, going for Theme From: Cat Fight. Hey, I never know what passes for music these days).

Time to Make Music

Now, I think most of us experience the same sort of thing pretty much all the time, don’t we? I mean, we all have a little of this, that, and the other thing, all pullin’ us in different directions, with never a letup in sight. Life is like that, y’know?

But in fact, isn’t it also true that those tensions, stresses, and strains, once we learn to “tune” them to the proper note, are what help produce the beautiful music that is our lives? It’s somewhere there in the balance, isn’t it?

So next time you’re tempted to curse, rant or rail about something in your life that’s pullin’ you in two different directions, just think about that piano. After everything is said and done, it isn’t all about the tensions we face every day. Hey, welcome to life!

Nope, I think life is really all about the music.

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