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?

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“A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”

- Chinese philosopher Lao-tzu

I was walking in a park the other day and happened to notice this Mile Zero marker at my feet. This naturally got me to thinkin’ (sound of grinding gears) about life’s journeys, and how a person can end up where they are. (What can I say? I was in a pensive mood that day.)

If you take the time to think about it, where you are in life right now is the result of a rather long series of events.

For instance, take the leader of any given organization. I mean, whoever it is didn’t just decide one day to be The Top Dog, you know. Nope, they had to learn what it took to handle the role, make planned and skillful career moves, perhaps take advantage of opportunity as it arose. Eventually, if all the cards fell into place, they made it to the top.

Oh, sure; sometimes a leader gets the role by accident. But that doesn’t mean they’re not qualified and have the characteristics needed to lead. It takes time, effort, and sometimes luck to get there, no matter who you are or what your goal is.

Now think about where YOU are right now. Is it anything like where you thought you’d be when you first started out however many years ago? I’d be willing to wager – probably not! No, what characterized most folks’ journeys is the unpredictability of ‘em. You can make your plans, learn the ropes, identify the goals or whatever. But sometimes it’s still a surprise.

Despite that, setting goals and makin’ those plans is certain worth doing. I mean, if nothing else, it’s good training for wherever you end up. But there’s one more thing you need to get where you’re going. And without this one last thing, you might as well give up now.

Take the First Step

Sometimes that first step is the hardest one, isn’t it? You’ve spent a lot of time planning, scheming, working, hoping and, depending upon who you turn to for help, praying. Now all that’s left is the doing.

So today’s question is pretty simple: What’s keeping you from takin’ that first (or maybe it’s not the first, but the next) step?

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That Special Time of Year

One thing about the Christmas season; around our house it lasts for quite a while.

For instance, we usually put the Christmas tree up the day after Thanksgiving. And, since my birthday is at the end of January, I always beg Mrs. MZM to leave it up until after that blessed event is over. The result: we tend to celebrate Christmas around our house for a full 1/6 of the year! Yeehaw!

Then there’s all kinds of fun stuff to do, too, such as celebrating the end of hurricane season (a very big deal down here in the Gulf Coast region of the United States!), or searching for the perfect gift for Mrs. MZM (assuming the finances allow it – something that’s not always true from year to year *sigh*). Or maybe it’s cooking up sweet goodies like, um, pumpkin bread, or even making a big pile o’ delicious Christmas tamales (don’t laugh; that’s a big tradition here in Texas).

Special seasonal events abound as well: Christmas caroling, family get-togethers, and the annual “throwing out the old year’s resolutions to make brand-new ones”. And that doesn’t’ even begin to count events with religious significance as well: Christmas pageants, candlelight services, and all the rest.

But this year – ah, this year ranks right up there at the top of our Holiday experiences! I had the chance to be a king!

King for A Day

It all started when a friend asked me to help her with their school’s chapel time. “It’s easy,” she said. “All you have to do is be one of the three Kings (also known as the Wise Men) for a few minutes.”

Well, I ask ya; how could I turn such an offer down?

I mean, what’s the downside? There’s this really kingly robe to wear, I get to swap my cowboy hat for a shiny gold crown (only temporarily, of course – or maybe I could come up with a ‘Texas’ version?), and best of all, I’m already an experienced Wise Guy! (Yup; I’m a professional – please don’t try it at home!)

Unfortunately, one of the costumes was a mite too tiny to fit the fellow who volunteered (he was a bit too broad-shouldered), so we drafted my friend’s mom to stand in. (Now ordinarily, you’d think this might raise an eyebrow or two. Luckily, though, our audience was relatively indiscriminating, consisting of mainly a herd of about 25 three- and four-year-olds.)

The skit went well. We walked in singing the first verse and chorus of “We Three Kings”. Then each of us shared a little nugget about who we were (I played the second King, Melchior) and where we were from (I’m from out East – ‘waay past Louisiana). We also talked a little about the gifts we brought for the baby Jesus (mine was frankincense – and I challenge you to explain that to a three-year-old!)

I’ll tell ya; there’s nothing like the expression of wonder on a child’s face, is there? Their collective “ooh’s” and “ah’s” when we came in was well worth the effort.

I’ll tell ya; it’s good to be the King!

But Who Should Really BE the King?

Anyway, it was a lot of fun. Sadly, though, after a few minutes we trooped out and *sigh* had to return to the Real World. As I drove home, though, I reflected a bit on what it means to be a King. After all, when you get right down to it, that’s quite a job description, y’know?

Oh sure, the perks are great. Generally there’s a really nice place to live and a big staff of perennially eager beavers working and catering to every wish. There may even be hordes of devoted followers, too, hanging on the King’s every word as though they were, well, gold, frankincense or myrrh.

But bein’ a King ain’t all fun and games. After all, many a king has discovered the truism (sometimes the, um, hard way, if you get my meanin’) that along with great privilege comes great responsibility.

Sometimes, that’s the hardest lesson of all, isn’t it? That when you’re the actual leader – whether it’s of a single person or an entire country – it takes a very special individual who can truly live up to the role. Presidents and Prime Ministers, CEO’s and Supervisors, Captains and Corporals; they all bear a heavy responsibility when it comes to how they lead the folks underneath them in the org chart.

Are they worthy of the job they bear? Well, that’s the question, isn’t it? Sometimes, no matter the apparent qualifications, only time will tell.

Maybe that’s one reason Christians consider Jesus to be our King. I mean, with what we know about human nature (not to mention the not inconsiderable failings of earthly Kings and leaders of all kinds), only someone sent from God would really be qualified to do it right. Just sayin’.

Are You a Leader?

So what about you?

Are you a leader? What would you say are the main things that makes folks want to follow you? (Trust me when I say, if your followers don’t want to follow you, you ain’t a real leader no matter what the title says!) What advice would you give someone moving into a leadership role for the first time?

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And now for something a little different, y’all.

Kay Plantes asked me if I would be willing to post the following article because she felt it was “a story that needed telling”. I have to admit, it’s a pretty good account of how the power of vision can make all the difference to the tale of success. And, in an amazing display of serendipity, it also happens to fit neatly into our What I Learned From Limits groupwrite project this month! Way to go, Kay!

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Seeking: College-town of 20,000+ college students, with 10,000+ year-round residents, active nightlife and eclectic cultural tastes to locate a unique pizza restaurant

Ian Gurfield, an Amherst University college student, created this vision statement during an academic semester in Italy. Following a post-graduation cross-country trip through America’s college towns, he chose Madison, opening Frances Street Ian’s in the heart of UW’s nightlife.

Ten years later Gurfield owns multiple Madison businesses, his vision far more sophisticated, evolving due to his curiosity, willingness to experiment and tenacity. Admirably, he’s held “not knowing” until the right answers emerged.

Gurfield opened a second Ian’s on State Street to retain an ambitious business partner and capture traffic at Madison’s Capitol Square.  He discovered the challenges of multiple businesses and that a winning location is necessary but not sufficient.  By expanding the space to offer eat-in dining, Gurfield found success.  A restaurant on Chicago’s Clark Street also joined the mix.

Ian’s also grew synergistically using new products.  A local, organic frozen yogurt recently joined salads and brownies on the menus.  A staging kitchen will soon open on Willy Street, relieving stores of ingredient preparation. To speed financial payback, the kitchen will run a retail bakery modeled after Portland, Maine’s Standard Bakery.

Through all this, Gurfield struggled with Ian’s longer-term vision. Growth for the sake of growth wasn’t important, but retaining talent is, and that requires growth.  Furthermore, according to Gurfield, “Franchising wouldn’t work as we’d lose the local-owner-as-manager climate critical to creating Ian’s unique taste and experience.”

Ian’s recently completed 2020 Vision is a best-practice example of visioning for a number of reasons. The vision:

• Is specific and unique—not the generic statements so many leaders settle for.  For example, by 2020 Ian’s will have created 16 businesses, with at least 10 retail pizza restaurants, and in at least two geographic areas. A central entity, Ian’s Soul Central, will establish best practices across sites and offer marketing, financial and management services. An internal investment bank (open to employee investment) will fund expansion.
• Is inspiring—capturing what matters most (such as sustainability and good jobs) to the people who will transform reality into vision.
• Is strategic—setting a direction, not merely elusive goals. Gurfield’s vision work solved how Ian’s will grow while still retaining the individual identity and entrepreneurship vital to any one location’s success. Ian’s will be a federation of independently owned companies (at least two per city) that share knowledge and central services to help entrepreneurs overcome an otherwise lonely, challenging journey. Ian’s Soul Central will also convene a board of managing partners, each overseeing a city’s individual operator-owner companies, like State Street Ian’s Pizza that Lexy Frautschy now fully owns.
• Stretches from today. Ian’s hiring and training practices will be recognized nationally, for example.
• Yet, is rooted in the company’s DNA. Ian’s will always focus on exceptional ingredients, expertly prepared – “A business with pizzazz, not pizza” – and a rewarding environment for team players, all Gurfield core values.
• Clarifies what’s in and out. After completing the vision work, Gurfield learned that an associate’s father had unused organic farmland. Immediately he saw a fit, given Ian’s commitment to sustainable business practices and starting new businesses. Yet another federation member is born.

What does your vision statement say about your organization? If it reflects a “check the box, did that” activity, start again.  Defining your vision is at the heart of thinking and leading strategically.

Kay Plantes helps business leaders make better strategy decisions, faster. Her 20-year old firm, Plantes Company, LLC works with leaders to redefine their organization’s business model to secure higher profits and growth. The MIT-trained economist writes a weekly blog on business model innovation, http://www.plantescompany.com/blog and is author of Beyond Price: Differentiate Your Business in Ways that Really Matter (Greenleaf Bookgroup, 2009) http://www.beyondpricebook.com

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Wandering around Discovery Green Park in downtown Houston one morning a few weeks ago, I was not surprised to find every single park bench had a dedication of some kind. You know what I mean, right? Along the lines of, “In memory of…”, or something similar.

Hey, it’s a time-honored way of remembering those who’ve come before us, and perhaps may no longer be with us. I often wonder what stories are contained within those few brief words.

However, as I was about to leave the park, I ran across this one, in which a slightly different sentiment is expressed: MAKE EVERY MOMENT COUNT.

I’m tellin’ ya; have no idea who the Reckling family is (all 46 of ‘em; yeesh, can you imagine the run on the bathroom in the mornings?), but I’ll tell ya; I am now a big fan!

Yessir, now that’s a sentiment that gets the ol’ ticker turnin’ over, ain’t it? I gotta say, as a kick-start to the day, it was a heckuva great one!

So allow me to pass it on to y’all today – along with a big ol’ tip o’ the hat!

MAKE EVERY MOMENT COUNT

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Have you ever heard this expression: “engraved in stone”? Generally speaking, it refers to something so sure, so predictable, it’s practically a foregone conclusion.

For example, it’s almost a sure thing that every time I drive by a certain well-known national chain ice cream parlor, I have to wrestle with the steering wheel on my car to keep the danged thing from pulling into their drive. Mrs. MZM would say that behavior is practically engraved in stone, y’know? (Alas, that’s a tough one to break; it’s, er, part of how I lost my *ahem* youthful figure – and ended up on this here diet!)

Anyhoo; the thing is, that behavior didn’t just happen overnight. Nope; I had to build it over time.

Building a Bad Habit

Back in 1985, when we first lived in Greenville, South Carolina, the road that took me from home to the office passed right by one of those aforementioned ice cream places. No big deal, you say? Well, this one had something we’d never seen at one of these things before: a drive-through window!

Alas, it was a recipe for disaster! (Well, I gotta admit, the inclination was already there.) All it took to cause me make a bat-turn in the middle of the road and slide up to the window, tires squealing like a stunt driver’s take a left instead of heading straight home after work was that extra little convenience.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before the results began to show up on the ol’ waistline, y’know?

But that’s the way bad habits work, don’t they? It may be something subtle at first, but you know how it goes, right? Before too long, it’s become a habit and you’re hooked! The problem, as we all know, is that once formed, bad habits can be oh-so-hard to get rid of. That’s because the behavior that produced the habit has become ingrained in our life.

What to do? Well, the best way to avoid the problem is to keep the bad habit from forming in the first place, right? So how do you head those pesky little things off at the pass?

How To Avoid Bad Habits

Here’s a couple of tips you can try. You just have to, y’know, do ‘em.

Know Yourself – Probably the most important weapon in your arsenal is to know your own strengths. And while you’re at it, get to know your weaknesses, too. I  mean, if you don’t even like ice cream, then Bubba, you ain’t got no problem at all when the ol’ Ice Cream Angel calls your name, right? Alas, most of us don’t fall into that category, so consequently have to admit that particular temptation has legs. But as they say in practically every guide to problem-solving I’ve ever read, the first step to solving a problem – is admitting there’s a problem! That ol’ sayin’, “forewarned is forearmed” has never been more true!

Know Your  Goals – The thing is, when it comes to this particular brand of ice cream, well, let’s just say if one of my goals was to become the World’s “Biggest” Project Manager and get my name in the record books, then I was certainly on the right track! However, since it, um, wasn’t, then obviously it wasn’t gonna help, y’know? Most of the time, all it takes is just a little thought to realize what’s good for your goals – and what’s not. Then all you have to do is, y’know, do the right thing.

Know Your Decisions Ahead of Time – Here’s the best weapon of all, and trust me on this, it’s something we can all do. Knowing that ice cream parlor was there (and I was pretty much forced to drive by it every day) well, I had to make the decision to NOT turn in – before the place was even in sight. I know it sounds simple, and it is. But the fact is, decisions of this nature just naturally are so much easier when you’re not in the midst of the battle, so to speak. Just decide , right now, what you’re going to do. Then, when it comes time to actually do it, you’ll find it so much easier!

Are There More Ways?

So what about you guys? How do you avoid bad habits? I’ve only listed three things; there’s bound to be lots more. Leave your suggestions in the comment box and let’s all have a big belly laugh learn something!

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Photo: Engraved in Stone, by Robert Hruzek

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Have you ever been flying? Well I have!

And not just in airliners; I’ve had an adventure or two while taking flying lessons in a small plane a while back (see Fear of Flying). Besides, that’s not that big a deal, right? Lots of folks have floated above ol’ Terra Firma in everything from hot air balloons to spacecraft

But I’m not talking about flying in an airplane - or actually, a flying machine of any kind. No, I actually learned to fly ‘waaaay sooner than that! In fact, I was still just a kid.

The Summer

To be honest, I really can’t remember how old I was at the time; seems like I must have been somewhere around 10 or 11; maybe as old as 12. Back then, we lived in the town of Bellaire, one of the many small cities that exist like a seed within an orange, completely inside the boundaries of the huge city of Houston, Texas.

Anyway, this was during the summer, when kids of all ages spend their summer vacations just doin’… well, in my case, a whole lotta nuthin’. But it was a fun lotta nuthin’, that’s for sure, especially with the herd of boys I ran around with.

Lessee now… what did we do, anyway? Well, we hung out in the big, empty, corner lot down the street, where, among other things, we built several big wooden platforms high up in the boughs of the largest trees. (Mine was always the highest one because at the time I was the ‘lightest’ kid. Not necessarily the smallest one; just think: very, very thin.)

We also discovered how to make and use an old-world sling (slingshot) like David (of David and Goliath fame). I’m tellin’ ya; it was astonishing how far a rock would go with one of those things! One kid accidentally (no, really!) knocked out a school window over a hundred yards away. Who knew it would go that far! (He ‘fessed up, though. It was one of those times when, even though it got him into trouble, the truth was so spectacular he had to tell it.)

Oh, and I’ll never forget an afternoon spent playing “base-bee”. It’s sorta like baseball, except… well, here’s how it worked. You find a big, blooming wisteria bush and position yourself about 30 feet away. Then you entice bumblebees to fly at you by throwing big rocks into the bush. A bee would note the direction the rock came from (how they did that was anybody’s guess) and immediately come flyin’ out, right towards you. Meantime, you’re holding a board (sorta like a cricket bat), and, at the last minute, you neatly sidestep the oncoming bee and whap! The poor hapless bee would go flyin’ away like a home run knocked outta the park! (Oh, did I mention I was both young – and stupid?)

And then there was the aforementioned Day I Went Flying.

The Hill

One of our favorite activities (when we got tired of doing the above) was go exploring on our bicycles. Hey, if I could add it up now, I bet we rode our bikes for thousands of miles! Seriously. So when the mood struck us, we’d travel far and wide without hesitation – or at least as far and wide as a pre-teen kid could, anyway.

Now, this was back in the days when Houston was building some of the first major freeways around town, including what is now the Loop 610 and I- 59 intersection. (It’s one of the busiest freeway interchanges in Houston these days, but I was there when it was first bein’ built.)

Naturally, in order to build the overpasses necessary for such a major interchange, they needed lots of, well, giant piles of dirt. And, as we all know, giant piles of dirt – hills, really – had the power to attract small boys with about the same inevitability with which Anakin Skywalker was attracted to the Dark Side.

Anyhoo, on this particular day, the most enterprising of our number expressed the following thought out loud: “Gee, I wonder how fast you would go if you rode a bicycle down the side of one of those hills? Wow, it would be kinda like riding down the Hill of Doom!”

Instantly, the whole herd of us became embroiled in a lively debate on the relative merits of such a stupendous idea. The phrase, “Wow, that would be fantastic!” was heard, along with various other, less enthusiastic responses, such as “You’d be goin’ a million miles an hour at least!”, “I don’t think it would work,” or “You wouldn’t get me to do it!”

By the time the dust settled, though, I think the general consensus settled into something along the lines of, “You’d probably kill yourself, you idiot!”

The Dare

As you know, in any random group of folks there’s bound to be someone who fits the category of “will do anything on a dare”, right? Alas, it’s also true that groups of kids tend to have a somewhat larger than average share of ‘em. (Probably because they haven’t lived long enough to fear spending the rest of their days in a wheelchair.)

So, as we looked around at each other, wonderin’ who would be the first to actually do it, our eyes turned towards the oldest one of us to blaze the trail. (I had secretly sworn to myself that it would most certainly not be me!) You had to admire him, though; pushed into a corner and realizing the inevitability of the situation, he bravely accepted the challenge – if not wholeheartedly, then at least willingly. (Besides, there’s no pressure like peer pressure, is there?)

The rest of us arrayed ourselves at the bottom, each silently making bets as to whether or not he’d survive the ordeal. We watched as he laboriously climbed up the hill, pushing his bicycle all the way. (Have you ever tried to walk up one of those things? They’re really steep!) Finally, he reached the top. He took a few minutes to regain his breath, then settled himself firmly onto the seat. Time seemed to stand still as he stood poised at the brink of the precipice. We held our collective breath as he leaned forward…

It was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen in my entire young life!

The Plunge

He quickly gathered speed – literally flying down the hill like a lightning bolt and hangin’ on for dear life. I don’t remember if he screamed or not (he was probably too terrified to do anything but hold on), but I can tell you for sure the rest of us were enthusiastically shouting for all we were worth!

After zinging by us like a rocket sled on steroids, he finally managed to slow down and turn around. Pedaling back our way, he took a well-deserved victory turn around our little band of brothers like the champion he was that day. It was stupendous! It was amazing! I’m tellin’ ya; it was the best day ever!

Once the celebration died down, though, the discussion got down to who was going to be next. Some kids absolutely refused to do it at all. But for some strange reason, I found myself volunteering for the job. I truly don’t exactly know why I decided to try it (believe me when I tell you I wasn’t the most daring of souls – then or now), but I soon found myself up there at the top of the hill.

It’s amazing how looking up a certain distance never seems as far as looking down the same distance. Although it didn’t seem quite so far when I was at the bottom of the hill, the view from up at the top looked like it was about a million miles down. From this height I could see all my friends arrayed like little ants – no, wait; those were ants – but my friends appeared really, really small as well.

Yeesh, what had I gotten myself into? I mentally promised never to volunteer for anything, ever again. (Who knows, maybe that’s why I never joined the Army.)

The Choice

Standing up there, facing impending doom and practically certain I was about to breathe my last, I realized there were only three – no, only four possible outcomes.

1. I could choose NOT to do it. Yep; I could have just said the heck with it (when I was a kid, heck was the absolute worst word I could think to use in these situations) and walked back down the hill, to the inevitable catcalls and razzing of the other boys – from then until the end of time. It was a tough choice; on the one hand, I’d probably never live the ignoble episode down. On the other hand, at least I’d be, y’know, alive.
2. I could ride down the hill, killing myself in the process. Yeah, it was pretty easy to imagine all sorts of dire things happening on my way down the mountain: the wheel could fall off, my seat could come loose, I could get a foot caught in the chain… with the inevitable result: I’d tumble off the bicycle and roll endlessly downhill, to wind up a horribly mangled pile of pulp. (Imagination is easy to a kid, you know.) Oh, well, at least they would be able to talk about how brave I was there at the funeral. Small consolation, that.
3. I could ride down the hill and live to tell the tale. Way down there near the bottom of my mental list of possible – no, better make that probable – outcomes, there was the slightest chance I could actually do this thing. I’ll tell ya; I had to squint pretty hard to see it, but there it was. I knew if I could do this, I’d really have something to talk about among my peers. I could visualize myself, a giant among men (or at least, boys), one who could always point to this incident and say, “No, I’m not going to wrestle that giant man-eating cobra, saving that gorgeous babe in the process and earning her everlasting appreciation – but at least I rode down that hill on my bicycle back when we were kids!” To which they would always have to shuffle their feet in remembered shame because they, y’know, didn’t.
4. I could be killed by a falling meteor. I know, I know. Besides, even a billion-to-one chance was at least a chance, right? At least I’d go out in a blaze of glory.

Anyway, since I obviously lived to relate this sordid tale, then neither #2 or #4 happened. So which option did I choose, you ask? Well, it’s like this…

The Flight

Yessir, ladies and gentlemen, I actually did muster up what little courage I had and (sound of terrified scream) down the hill I went! I must’ve broken the sound barrier within moments, the wind howling so loud past my ears I couldn’t hear a thing. The pedals spun around so fast they became invisible, and I had to just lift my feet up, gripping the bicycle with only my hands and my, er, butt cheeks. (You’d be surprised how effective that can be – particularly when your butt’s continued existence depended upon it!)

I was at the bottom within a matter of seconds (perhaps six, or maybe seven at most), and microseconds before I got there, I realized something important. The one thing I hadn’t thought about was that sudden transition from down to horizontal. It looked… well, kinda abrupt, if you get my meanin’. I mean, there were probably a few places I could have selected that had a somewhat smoother curve to ‘em, but if so, well, the spot I was gonna hit wasn’t one of ‘em!

No, in my case the bicycle (and, of course, me too) changed direction so fast it compressed my whole body down onto the bicycle seat far enough to flatten the seat’s springs. (Good thing it had a thick metal plate in it; things might’ve been pretty unpleasant otherwise!)

Now, you’re probably familiar enough with the expression, “what goes up, must come down”, right? Well, my friends; I can tell you – and from personal experience, yet  – the opposite is also true: “what goes down, must come up”!

Yep; when all that downward energy was released, it literally catapulted my body upward in such a way that I suddenly became airborne! Luckily (and probably the only reason I’m still able to talk about it today), I barely – just barely, mind you – managed to hang onto the handlebars.

The surprising result was that, instead of completely wiping out, for a spectacular few seconds I executed a rather incredible handstand over the handlebars as I zinged past my stunned audience. Then, in a Grand Finale performance worthy of Cirque du Soleil, my butt neatly plopped right back down on the bicycle seat! It happened so quickly – and smoothly – it was as if I’d planned the whole thing all along. I’ll tell ya; there’s no doubt in my mind my Guardian Angel was workin’ overtime that day!

Folks, that was one of the most frightening – and exhilarating – events of my life (and that includes the time I accidentally answered a, uh, former girlfriend’s question, “Do these pants make me look fat?”) I’m almost sure my heart stopped beating as soon as I left the top of the hill. I’m positive I didn’t take another breath until I was able to start braking down to a speed that was something less than insane.

The Challenge

So what does careening uncontrollably down the Hill of Doom on a bicycle – nearly meeting my Maker in the process – have to do with life, anyway? Well, it’s sorta like this.

There’s no doubt about it, y’all. These days, folks all over are facing things they’ve never had to face before. It’s like they’re tearing along in one direction, then – maybe even through no plan or fault of their own – they suddenly changed direction and found themselves launched headlong into space! What’s more, they’re so busy lookin’ for a soft place to land, they haven’t even got time to figure out what to do.

I’ll tell ya, friends; I’ve been there more times than I want to remember!

So here’s your Questions for the Day:

What do you do when you inadvertently go flyin’ into the wild blue yonder? What can you do? How do you handle it when something comes along that literally takes the planet right out from under you? Can you truly prepare for the unknowable?

C’mon, what do you think?

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Photo: untitled, by Jon Hanson

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I’ll tell ya; I was watching the national (U.S.) news last week, and I couldn’t help but stare in awestruck wonder (sorta like the same way you just can’t tear your eyes away from a train wreck) by the absolutely ridiculous linguistic gyrations being paraded out for us by a supposedly smart woman. Now c’mon, y’all; wasn’t that the most insultingly convoluted attempt at circumlocution you’ve ever seen? (It’s funny how dangerous things always travel in packs, ain’t it? Lessee… there’s a pack of wolves, a pack of cigarettes… oh, and a pack of lies..)

Why is it, I wondered, when we do something dumb, the very first impulse always seems to be something along the lines of ‘at all costs, avoid responsibility and deny everything’?

But forget about U.S. House Speaker Nancy Pelosi (who has now managed to usurp Bill Clinton’s spot as the poster child for that sort of thing) and the big, giant pickle she’s gotten herself into, I actually asked that question because of something that happened to yours truly the other day.

In fact, the reason this subject comes up at all is, well, I guess the best thing is to go ahead and confess to it right up front: My name is Robert, and I’m a (sound of anguished scream) cookie-killer. Go ahead, bring on the handcuffs; I’ll go quietly, officer.

See, it was like this…

It’s Snackin’ Time!

The other evening, Mrs. MZM and I were winding down from a rather strenuous day of… well, whatever the heck we do all day. Now, we’d just snuggled into our favorite spot on the couch when she looked up at me and said “Want something?”

I knew what she meant, of course. After all, when you’ve been married for 27 years, spending that much time together means at least some of our conversations have been honed down to a nub, if you get my meanin’. My stomach, knowing exactly what she meant, immediately perked up and gronked in reply.

After a brief discussion of the options (no need to repeat it here; our brand of shortspeak probably wouldn’t make all that much sense to you anyway) the judge’s decision, by a considerable margin, was: cookies!

Now don’t get me wrong, y’all; “having” cookies around our house ain’t that easy! I mean, it’s not like our pantry is loaded up with the things. And we’ve never been a big fan of those store-bought packages, either – none of those pre-baked, vacuum-bagged pretenders for us! (Mrs. MZM requires me to mention one exception: Girl Scout Thin Mints.)

Nope; around our house, when thoughts turn to cookies, we have to actually, y’know, bake ‘em ourselves. Well, to be honest – something we always strive for here at the Zone – we use those pre-made cookie dough things you keep in the fridge and just pop on a cookie sheet. Hey, we’re not total purists around here; too much work.

Anyhoo – hey, we have cookie-preparation down to a science around here: preheat the oven, carefully place the little doughballs (chocolate chip for the Mrs., and Oatmeal Raisin for me – both enhanced with a touch of cinnamon) on a cookie sheet, pop ‘em in the oven, set the timer, and… wait.

(That last is always the hardest part, isn’t it? The delicious smell of cinnamon quickly grows so powerful, by the time they’re actually ready to eat you’re practically gnawing on the furniture.)

The Call of the Wild (Cookie, that is)

Finally (!) that little timer thing on the oven lets off with it’s characteristic (and by the way, quite annoying) electronic signal. C’mon, admit it – it’s sorta like the Call of the Wild, ain’t it? And just like Pavlov’s dogs, at the sound of the tone my mouth instantly began watering in anticipation as I catapulted outta the couch like I was launched from an aircraft carrier calmly stood up and went to the kitchen to retrieve our little golden delights (surreptitiously smoothing over those unsightly chew marks on the sofa).

Here’s where the crucial event occurs. (Better gird your loins for this, folks; it ain’t pretty.)

I picked up a hot pad, opened the oven door (while inhaling the sweet, delicious aroma of hot, fresh-baked cookies – YUM!), grabbed a corner of the piping hot cookie sheet, pulled ‘em out of the oven, and proceeded to dump the whole shebang – cookie-side down, mind you – smack dab on the floor!

WHAP!

The sharp metallic sound of metal on tile reverberated around the kitchen for a few moments, then… a stunned silence filled the void. (Insert moment of stunned silence here.)

Yeah, I know; you’re probably as shocked I was at this appalling turn of events. I’m tellin’ ya; my heart just about stopped! It was an absolute travesty. It was criminal. It was… like in that movie The Day the Earth Stood Still, when the Earth, y’know, stood still. I half expected to look up and see ol’ Gort shaking his big, metallic head in dismay as he prepared to laser me into oblivion.

After about 5 seconds of this, Mrs. MZM’s voice wafted gently in from the other room, an ominous tone clearly detectable: “Did what I think happen – just happen?”

Uh-oh.

My panicky brain started to flounder as the connection between it and my tongue momentarily broke down. For a few seconds, the recurring phrase sense of impending doom was the only thing that circled through my poor befuddled mind. The flight reflex instinctively rose from its deep, dark lair, while sweat began to bead upon my troubled brow.

To top it off – and I kid you not – I distinctly remember thinking, Now, how can I plausibly claim, ‘It’s not my fault’?

Time to Pay the Piper

OK, rhetorical question here (which does not mean something Rhett Butler would have asked):

Have you ever done something stupid? Oh, I’m not just talkin’ about murdering a tray of poor, defenseless cookies; I mean, have you ever done something dumb and then immediately thought to yourself, Now how on Earth could I have ever done such a bone-headed thing?

No; no need to raise your hand or anything. I’d say the chance of anyone NOT pulling a boner at least once in their lifetime is roughly on the order of, well, that of ol’ Adam and Eve convincing God it “wasn’t them” who took the apple off that Tree of Life . After all, who else could it have been, y’know?

But what surprised me most was that little reflex thought that scampered through my brain. In spite of the clear and undisputable facts, right? I mean, there was no way I could deny that it was, y’know, my fault. The evidence, after all, was right there on the floor for all to see. (OK, it was just me and Mrs. MZM – and no, there is no, er, surviving photographic evidence.) There was absolutely no way to credibly deny it was me, and me only, that did the low-down dirty deed.

So what did I do? Well, own up, of course! Hey, I just never quite got a good grip on the edge of the cookie sheet as I lifted it out of the oven, with the inevitable result. End of story.

Almost.

The Rest of the Story

OK, by now you’re probably wondering if I’ve been sent up the river to do hard time by a jury of my peers, and I’m writin’ this post with a little tiny stub of a No.2 pencil on a long sheet of toilet paper smuggled into my dingy cell. So what sentence, you’re sayin’ to yourself, did Mrs. MZM throw at you for ruining a perfectly good snack?

Actually, she was remarkably cool and collected about the whole thing. (I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: What a woman!) In fact, after collecting the bodies of the dear departed and sharing a moment of silence (not to mention a tear or two), she even helped me clean up the mess. Later, humor – and practicality – won out, of course: we immediately baked another batch.

This time, I offered to let her retrieve ‘em from the oven, but she just shook her beautiful head and smiled. “Ya gotta get back on that horse,” she said with a smile – and a hint of steel.

But I have to say, it was a remarkably interesting lesson. And if – no, make that when – you do something like I did – something that just ain’t right – c’mon, just admit it and move on! I mean, how hard a lesson can it be, right? It’s a simple one, to be sure; easy to say, too. And after all, you’d think anyone with even an ounce of sense woulda figured that out before the age of five.

But I’ll tell ya; every time I watch the news these days, it becomes obvious there are some folks – folks who definitely should know better – that just don’t seem to get it. The truth is, they ain’t foolin’ nobody.

All I can add is, don’t you choose to be like that. I’m just sayin’.

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Quick question, y’all.

When you assure someone that what you say will happen is actually going to happen – does it make you a bit nervous? I mean, no matter how confident you feel, sooner or later you’re going to have to, y’know, face the music, right?

So when your confidence level prompts you to make a commitment (sound of terrified scream), does it still give you cold sweats? Perhaps a serious case of the heebie-jeebies? Yup; thought so.

But y’know; some situations require nothing less than absolute and total confidence; to state the case in no uncertain terms; to respond to a challenge with supreme fearlessness; to spit in the eye, so to speak, of the oncoming torpedo, y’know?

Give the Man a Chance

Speakin’ of torpedoes – and bein’ a guy and all – that kind of situation inevitably reminds me of a rather poignant moment from one of my favorite “guy” movies of all time, The Hunt for Red October.

The scene I’m thinkin’ of is where our intrepid hero, Jack Ryan, tries to convince the captain of the submarine USS Dallas that the captain of the Russian submarine he is closely shadowing (the Red October) actually wants to defect to the U.S.

(Now bear two things in mind; the American Captain has orders to sink the Red October, and up until this particular moment, the Russians have no idea they were being so closely tailed.)

It’s an edgy scene, to say the least. In the narrow confines of a submarine corridor, they tensely face off against each other – the Captain, because he thinks Ryan is out of his gourd for suggesting such a thing, and Ryan, supremely confident because of his own analysis of the Russian’s motivations (and because he’s the hero of this tale – and he’s never wrong).

Ryan realizes he only has one chance to make his case before being hauled off to the brig.

He finally plays his trump card by claiming he knows the Russian Captain so well he can actually predict the man’s every move – and that his next turn (called a “Crazy Ivan” in submariner’s lingo) will be to starboard. (That’s “to the right” for you landlubbers out there – and if you’re one of those who, like Mrs. MZM, can’t tell your right hand from your left, then please, move over and let ME drive!)

Suddenly, the intercom sounds…

Intercom: Conn, Sonar. Signal to noise ratio’s dropping. Possible aspect change in target. Possible target zig based on bearing rate.

Intercom: Conn, Sonar. Crazy Ivan! Captain. Captain, he’s turning!

Captain: Which way is he turning?

Intercom: To the starboard, sir.

Captain turns sharply to Ryan.

Ryan: Give the man a chance.

Captain (coming to a sudden decision): All back full.

Intercom: Captain, say again.

Captain: I said all back full!

Intercom: Back full. Aye, sir. Engines back full.

The submarine fills with noise as the propeller reverses, bringing the submarine to a sudden and noisy stop.

Intercom: We’re cavitating! He can hear us!

Captain: Conn, aye. All stop.

Intercom: All stop, aye.

Captain (smiling wryly at Ryan): All right, Mr. Ryan; we just unzipped our fly.

Here’s the thing…

At a previous job, our client once asked me to create a big poster listing 10 to 15 critical milestones for the project I’m working on. Now, ordinarily, that’s no big deal; we always had a detailed project schedule with that information available at the drop of a hat (but not my hat, mind you; that would be, y’know, wrong).

But still; there’s something about putting those milestones on a big, honkin’ poster and putting’ it up there for all to see, y’know? In a way, it’s kinda like making a list of your New Year’s resolutions – then publishing it on the front page of the New York Times. Maybe it’s just me, but it seems like so much more of a, y’know, commitment that way.

Now, though, if we missed a date, it’s *ulp* right there on the wall for all to see (I could already feel little drops of sweat forming on my troubled brow…). After all, as any experienced project manager will tell you, a schedule is simply a battle plan. (And I emphasize the word plan.)

Oh, sure; we do our best to execute the plan (and no, I don’t mean – much as you’d like to – stand it against a wall, tie a blindfold on it and blow it to Kingdom Come). But still, there’s always, y’know, reality to deal with. As Field Marshall Helmuth Karl Bernhard Graf von Moltke (a bonecrusher of a name if there ever was one) once pointed out, “No battle plan survives contact with the enemy.”

Hey, I understand perfectly. The very idea of “puttin’ feets to them words”, if you get my meanin’, can make even the most confident person on Earth tremble a bit inside. Especially when there’s a fair to middlin’ chance that factors outside your control might be at work at play.

But as I said back at the beginning of this little essay, sometimes the situation requires nothing less.

So What About It?

When was the last time you had to make one of those “everything-rests-on-this” type of commitments? What brought it up? What was the result? Do you dare to share a little about it here? C’mon, go ahead; we’re all friends here. (Besides, I need some new blog material. - KIDDING!)

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[We interrupt this blog for the following public service message.

Warning: In the spirit of full disclosure, I need to let you know that today's post constitutes something of rant. Well, not a rant, exactly; more of an impassioned plea. Albeit one that happens to be political in nature (sound of terrified scream).

As you know, I rarely get political around here. However, what with the imminent national election coming up here in the U.S. next Tuesday, it's just one of those things I feel that I must get off my chest.

Don't worry; I've done my best to keep it a non-partisan soliloquy. As always, though, you are the ultimate Review Board. Thanks a herd for your indulgence, y'all, and a tip o' the hat to ya!]

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OK; I have what you might call a rhetorical question here. (By the way, the word rhetorical, as used in this context, is defined as a question that Rhett Butler might have asked Scarlet O’Hara, if political campaigns in the 1840′s had used TV as a medium.)

Do politicians these days think we don’t see what they’re up to? Or do they think we’re, you know, stupid? (OK; that was two questions. Sorry; I was never too good at math.)

I don’t know; I’ve never thought of myself as stupid. But hey, maybe I am.

That’s the kind of thinking that runs through my mind every time I see yet another in a long series of ridiculous – and often downright insulting – political ads these days. And you know what got me thinkin’ that way? Well, I was thinkin’ the other day about… duck hunting.

The Great Hunter – Not!

See, I’ve never been much of a hunter. (Nor a fisherman, for that matter. In fact, I freely admit I’m not much of an outdoorsman at all. But I have made a few attempts at it in the somewhat distant past. Hopefully it still counts towards my application to become a card-carrying member of the Manly Men’s Society. Keep your fingers crossed.)

The thing was, when I got out there in the wild, it seemed like every critter on the planet was fully aware of exactly why I was there. I mean, I did everything right. I set out the decoys (in the case of ducks), or put out the feed (in the case of deer), went and found a nice, quiet hunting blind to hide out in, and practiced making like a tree stump. (Think it’s easy? I dare you to try sitting outdoors in cold damp weather without moving a muscle for five solid hours. It’s the height of fun, I’ll tell ya!)

But the trouble was, it never seemed to fool the little darlings into coming out where I could, um, see ‘em. Any ducks within five miles of my location simply flew extra high up. And then, to add insult to injury, even though totally unable to reach them with my trusty shootin’ iron, Bess – I could still hear them laughing at me as they passed by overhead.

Even the deer took a vacation day to visit distant relatives whenever I was out there waiting in the foggy, foggy dew.

I just don’t get it. It’s like they knew something was up. And what’s worse, I’m fairly positive the sneaky little boogers considered me pretty stupid for even trying to fool ‘em into showing their feathered faces. Finally, it hit me (sound of dull thud).

Ducks, as it turns out, ain’t that dumb. They really could see me!

“Sortof a Rant” Section

So how does duck hunting relate to political advertising?

Well, it’s kinda the same thing, don’cha think? I mean, the hunters (fill in the name(s) of the politician(s) of your choice here) set out their decoys (“talking points”, I believe they’re called in the vernacular of the day). Then they hide, waitin’ to see who’s been fooled into thinking they’ve found the real thing (meaning the issues we really should be thinking about, as opposed to the issues they want us to be thinking about, if you get my meanin’).

I’ll tell ya; every time we go through this, the ridiculous rhetoric seems to get more and more breathtakingly outrageous in its scope (and depth!), and Bubba, this election season is no exception. I mean, c’mon, y’all; who really cares how many houses one candidate or another owns? What does it matter that one is “more well-liked” than the other? And what difference could it possibly make whether or not one is older or younger? Now admit it; doesn’t this sort of thing remind you of little kiddy arguments from your Kindergarten days?

In fact, the current checklist of “issues” (and I use that term loosely here) I hear on the news or see in the media aren’t even, for the most part, the real issues at all; they’re just decoys. You know, just like those fake ducks floatin’ around out there on the pond.

No, the real issues are the ones we used to talk about – but for some reason, don’t anymore. Somehow they seem to have gradually – and largely successfully – been swept under the rug by the media.

I’m talking about really critical stuff – like the economy, energy and national security, among other things. (OK, I’ll give you one; the economy is definitely front and center right now. Although… have you noticed no one seems to be openly investigating the actual instigators of the financial meltdown? Do you wonder why that particular bit of news isn’t front page stuff? At any other time, it would be; why isn’t it now?)

How about energy? We’re not talking about that one either these days. How come? Just because oil prices have headed south lately doesn’t mean we’ve solved it, you know. Unfortunately, major concerns that sorta came to a head only two months ago in our own legislature – and still remain totally unsolved – have been almost dropped completely from the news. (You know; little details such as domestic vs. foreign oil supplies, the long-term rising cost of energy, alternative fuel sources, etc.)

Then there’s national security. (Of course, I’m talking about U.S. national security here, but the Free World – and the rest of the world for that matter – are certainly part of the Big Picture.) Why have these issues been dropped from the headlines?

And what about job creation, taxes, health care, and a veritable plethora of other, important, and ultimately long-term issues we need to consider before choosing who we want to support?

Don’t these folks realize the truth – that we can see right through the ridiculous games they’re playing? Don’t they understand that we really do see them?

Like I said, I never thought of myself as stupid. But they sure seem to think so.

“Impassioned Plea” Section

Years ago, I used to have one of these signs hanging on my wall, courtesy of IBM. Perhaps you’ve seen one yourself. The inside joke was, they were purposely made to hang upside down (at least, the one I owned was).

Silly, I know. But still; it makes a powerful statement, don’cha think? Hey, if nothing else, when you saw that sign hanging upside-down on the wall, it certainly made you, well, think. Why? Because it was something of a non-sequitur, causing the ol’ little grey cells to do a sortof double-take.

So really, that’s all I’m sayin’.

Just… think!

Next Tuesday, Americans everywhere will be casting votes (uh, you ARE going to vote, right?), making decisions on things that are truly critical, not just for the short term, but even more importantly, over the long haul as well. And it would be a travesty if those of us headed for the polls didn’t just stop for a second and deeply consider the issues – the real ones – from all the angles.

Whatever you do, please don’t vote a certain way just because someone tells you to. Don’t cast a vote for one candidate or another “just because”. Now that would be stupid. Hey, I truly believe, my friends, that you guys are ‘waaaay smarter than that. (After all, you’re here in the Zone, aren’t you? That exhibits remarkable intelligence in my book!)

No, instead I ask you to really think about your vote. And even more important, understand and know the long-term consequences of your decision. To my mind, and despite the many distractions, the long-term ramifications (and consequences), at least in this election, are fairly clear.

With all my heart I beg you; please be able to put a coherent reason after that word “because”. And hey, if you can honestly do that, then lemme just say one last thing:

Go for it, Bubba!

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[Thanks for your forbearance, folks; I appreciate continued your patronage. I now return the Middle Zone to its regularly scheduled programming.

And if you're an American, and you haven't voted yet, please exercise your freedom and go vote next Tuesday, November 4^th! I think it's fairly safe to say a significant portion of the world is watching this one.]

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Just for the heck of it, instead of the usual story, I thought I’d drag out my podium and pretend to be a college professor today. (I just want a chance to prove this lump on top of my shoulders ain’t just a hat rack!) Feel free to chew gum, send text messages to your friends, or otherwise sleep while pretending to pay attention.

But I’ll begin by saying this: it’s all the fault of my friend Ellen Weber. Let me explain…

For those of you who hid under a rock during Ike’s rampage across the Texas countryside (not that there’s anything wrong with that, mind you), you may remember that September’s WILF groupwrite project was titled What I Learned From My Friends.

In Ellen Weber’s entry, Two-Footed Articles for Ten Friends, she asked me an intriguing question that I feel needs a bit more than a comment box response. (Question: Do the ten of us each represent toes? Which one am I? Uh… never mind.)

Well, it’s a month later now, so here’s my response. (OK; I admit it: I’m sloooow.) Thanks for the question, Ellen! I love the little mind prompts you’re so good at. So here’s the question:

If people were the capital in today’s business world, how would they know that in their current workplaces?

Let’s think about this a bit (sound of grinding gears). For the sake of argument, let’s define capital as existing assets used to produce further assets. Sounds a little circular, I know, but it usually refers to buildings, inventory, and other physical stuff. However, obviously there can be many other types of capital that aren’t physical, yet are extremely critical to business.

For instance, there’s knowledge. The amount of knowledge kept inside the heads of any given organization can amount to a tremendous amount of value. These days, the biggest challenge for most companies is in learning to tap into that knowledge for the good of the organization. Not an easy task, lemme tell ya!

Then there’s a little something called experience. Most businesses depend on using their accumulated experience to convince others to buy a product or be hired to do X, Y or Z. That’s a form of capital, and it’s actually tradable – mergers & acquisitions is big business for that very reason.

I could go on, but my point here is that these forms of capital can only be found in people. Thus, in a very real sense, people are capital in an organization.

So what does that mean, anyway (sound of head scratching)?

Well, lemme ask you this: What do companies do with their capital, anyway? Uh, you in the back with the moustache and the big pink fuzzy slippers on – yes, you. Hey, right you are! It’s the same thing you want your capital to do for you while it’s in the bank – make it work for you!

So, what should someone with money (the most familiar form of capital for us ordinary folk) be doing with it? Well, here’s 5 principles I came up with right off the top of my head (which is the part of me right up there under the hat):

• Protect. The first and foremost thing is to try and keep what you have. I mean, you don’t want some bozo to come along and just lift it out of your hands and run off with it, right? So it stands to reason you wouldn’t want to just leave it lying around the house, or stuffed in a mattress somewhere. No! (he said, banging his fist on the podium) You find a safe place to keep it. That means a bank or something similar where the principal will not be at risk.
• Invest. However, now the money is secured, it needs to start earning its keep. That means some sort of investment, right? Here’s where the risk-level (and the tendency towards, er, hair-pulling) really starts to matter. See, the fact is, some folks are very risk-tolerant, some aren’t. And, to make things more interesting, risk tolerance usually changes over time. Not to mention that it’s constantly influenced by external forces as well. Today’s DJIA is a case in point (sound of hysterical sobbing).
• Grow. So, what’s the point of having the money if you’re not going to do something with it? The fact is we use money as a means (and note – it’s a means, not an end) to live, grow, and prosper – eventually (hopefully) to make our lives, well, sorta ‘bigger’ than they once were, if you get my meanin’. And, if all goes well, your life tomorrow will be “larger” than it is today. Growth is implicit in, well, existence.
• Secure. Securing the future is probably one of the most common uses of money. And that doesn’t necessarily mean chunking an inexhaustible supply somewhere, a la money tree. I mean, who has that kind of resource available? (Although… having a money tree would certainly make life so much simpler, wouldn’t it? Or would it?) No, what I’m talking about here is leveraging present, well, things for future security. Like 401k accounts, for instance. Or burial plots, for that matter. Whatever you do now that makes the future more manageable and secure (in this case defined as “less hassle”).
• Transfer. Finally, once our needs are totally met, we convey the excess on to the next generation. One thing I think we can all agree on is that to date, no one has successfully figured out how to “take it with ‘em”, have they? So what’s the point of accumulating beyond reason? Passing on the surplus to the next ones to come along only makes sense. Just, er, make sure they know what to do with it!

OK, now let’s get back to Ellen’s question. What would these principles mean if you substituted the words “organization” for “someone” and “people” for “capital”? All right, Ellen, let’s do that thing, throw ‘em against the wall, and see what sticks:

• Protect. An organization does its level best to protect the investment it’s made in its people. And we’re talking about a significant sum here, folks! When folks leave, it’s like a big black hole (say, what’s that giant, sucking sound?) that can drain the vitality out of any organization. It is to be avoided whenever possible. Organizations that want to protect their place in the market will do what it takes to let workers know they are important enough to keep.
• Invest. They spend resources so employees are up to speed on job skills needed to do the work. It’s another way companies signal they are worth the extra effort. It’s a risk; sure. Sometimes upgrading employee skills opens the door for them look toward other horizons. But if the nest is safe, maybe they’ll be less likely to jump, don’t ya think?
• Grow. They look for ways to improve job processes; it helps keep the organization on a track to growth. By staying ahead of the curve, organizations can make themselves the “place to be” in their industry. Truth is, everyone likes working for a winner. (You’ve seen those “favorite places to work” lists, haven’t you? Hey, it’s a choice – and there’s a cost to it; but it’s up to the organization to be that winner.
• Secure. Giving their folks the means to secure their futures is a sure-fire way of keeping them for the long haul. Adequate healthcare, retirement and other benefits go a long way to show employees they’re worth it, and that they can be more secure where they are than with someone else.
• Transfer. This one’s a toughie. Making room at the top for new ideas, new visions, and new directions. Every day sees us closer to a brand new world; the more able to see things in new ways, the more likely an organization will still be around for long. Even down in the ranks, room for new is necessary. Cycle of life, and all that.

So the question now is, does that make sense? Does this describe your company? Is it even close? If not, then what could they do to change?

So what do you think? Am I right on track, or should I do like Robert Scoble did and go back to my old job as a crash-test dummy? Thoughts, anyone?

[Note - No actual Robert Scobles were injured during the writing of this article.]

[Further Note - No offense intended, Robert; I just couldn't resist using this silly image (found here). And by the way, I know the feeling well.]

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[This article is my entry for this month's groupwrite project, What I Learned From My Friends. You're invited to join us! Just click the link or see the bottom of this post for details.]

Ya know, words are pretty powerful things, aren’t they? (Yes, I’m surely preachin’ to the choir here.) A few well-timed words can really make all the difference, can’t they? It never ceases to amaze me how just a couple of words can totally change a situation, even to the point of turning defeat – into victory.

For the last several weeks, I’ve been busily setting up and executing a one-day client engagement. It was particularly exciting for me because it was my first “sale” (sound of crowd cheering) since I moved over to the consulting side of things at the Engineering firm where I work. Pretty cool, eh?

My plan (no wait, let me put sneer marks around that: my ‘plan’) was to use this short engagement to generate much more business with this particular client. It’s the ol’ tried-and-true foot in the door sales technique, used since some guy named Gutenberg invented the printing press and right off the bat started printing coupons for 50 cents off your next purchase of Twinkies at the local Food Farm.

Well, last week it finally happened. I flew to Canada (and boy, are my arms tired!), we did our thing, and based on the initial feedback, it looks like we accomplished what we set out to do. (Insert Elvis impression here: “Thank you; thank you very much.” And don’t forget to swing your hips.)

Now the fun began; all we have to do is win the rest of the work. Easy, eh? (Funny; while I was there, I never heard one single Canadian say “Eh”. ‘Course, I was only there one day. Or is that a stereotype? Anyone?)

Not as Easy as it Sounds

I’m tellin’ ya; for such a simple-sounding project (I mean c’mon – it was only a one-day thing, fer cryin’ out loud!) for a while there I almost at the point of despair! I don’t think I’ve ever experienced as much aggravation from such a small project before. It was ‘way more than what poor little ol’ me is used to.

To begin with, I’d been working on this deal for going on six weeks. Then, when it finally turned serious (you know; the moment when the client suddenly stops talking about doing it and says, “OK, let’s do it!”), well, the amount of time I had to get everything in place turned out to be ridiculously short. Think: less than two weeks.

Yikes! Hey, you’d have been proud of me, though; on the outside I didn’t bat an eye. I must admit, however; on the inside I was a mite concerned.

So I switched to high-speed mode (which is consultant-speak for “running around like a chicken with its head cut off”), tryin’ to make sure all the t’s are dotted and the i’s are crossed. I mean, among other things there was a Subcontractor Agreement to write, a Purchase Order to set up, contractual stuff to sign, visits to the Legal Dept. (sound of terrified scream), etc., etc. I mean, even with preparation it’s next to impossible to hurry some of this stuff up, you know?

And have you ever tried to get a series of signatures on a document – in a limited amount of time? So as ol’ Dr. Phil is fond of sayin’, how’d that work for ya? Yup; thought so. It never fails, right? There’s always at least one who’s out of the office or otherwise unavailable. Every. Stupid. Time.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, even more roadblocks began appearing. For instance, it took nearly a week to finally get a P.O. from our client. Alas, only then did I discover I sorta, er, neglected to tell them to put the amounts in US instead of Canadian dollars (yes, it was clearly my fault *sigh*). Say, what’s the exchange rate these days? Oh well; a simple change can fix that, right?

Then the client’s purchasing system inexplicably decided to lock everyone out. I said to myself (after much head-thumping on my desk, of course), “Self, these are mature computer programs, right? Hey, I’m sure it’ll be fixed in a minute hour day, right?”

In the meantime, I managed to acquire enough assurances from the various parties that we could go ahead and book our flights. No worries, and no need to panic – but I gotta tell ya; buying those tickets sure made me feel vulnerable. And not in a good way.

As the deadline approached like a runaway Space Shuttle, just to throw a wrench in the works we had to stop and celebrate a National holiday here in the States (Labor Day was Sept. 1). Although I always enjoy taking paid time off, it essentially shortened what little working time I had left by two full days.

Anyway, I figured at least the corrected P.O. would be in my inbox when I got back to the office. After all, Canada doesn’t celebrate our holidays, you know. Well, that’s what I get for figuring, because (and you knew this was coming, didn’t you?) it, um, wasn’t.

The Perfect Time to Panic

Right about then the distinctive flutter of butterfly wings (probably Callophrys sheridanii lemberti, also known as “Lembert’s Green Hairstreak – which also adequately describes what was happening to my remaining hair) were tickling my stomach (if not outright stomping around in it with jackboots on) as a sense of panic began to peek over the horizon.

I desperately pounded the Easy button on my desk (yes, I really have one), but the pesky thing chose that moment to malfunction as well. Strangely, instead of hearing the usual word, “Easy”, the silly thing inexplicably started laughing hysterically. I don’t know about you, but I really hate it when that happens. I instinctively know that can’t be good.

The Tuesday after Labor Day dawned, leaving me with only one day left to wrap things up (everyone was supposed to fly out the next day). Not only do I still have no PO, but we’re already committed to considerable expense because of the aforementioned airline tickets. (It’s a sensation not unlike have your, er, nether regions hanging out a window overlooking the Interstate – and Chopper Dave is focusing the Channel 7 traffic-cam on it).

Finding the End of Yourself

Well suffice it to say, my friends, at this point I’m thinkin’ to myself, “Self, this ain’t exactly the most auspicious start to a fine (and preferably long-term) consulting career!” (Yes, I talk to myself a lot. So what’s your point?)

You know that moment where you realize there is absolutely nothing more you can do to make things work out? You know, when you’ve done everything humanly possible, you’ve (if you’ll pardon the expression) reached the, er, end of yourself (sorry!), and the whole shebang is all in God’s hands?

I distinctly remember reaching that point about midday on Tuesday.

OK; I won’t leave you, er, hangin’ (sorry again!) By the end of the day, all signatures were collected, documents emailed, and contracts executed (sound of giant sigh of relief). Everything finally fell into place within 30 minutes of the end of the day. I finally received the official “go” from my boss to actually, you know, go.

The Last Word

Before I left his office, however, I thought it worthwhile to try and salvage the remains of my seemingly vastly diminished future career as a consultant. I mean, wouldn’t you? Admittedly, some of it was, well, self-inflicted (the P.O. currency snafu, for instance). But much of the remaining aggravation was simply out of my hands.

I began to summarize, and just as I reached the “… I’ll do better next time” part of my semi-prepared speech, he just smiled and held up his hand to stop me. He then told me something that totally changed my entire outlook about the whole sordid mess.

He simply said, “Hey, don’t worry about it. This sort of thing happens three times a week around here.”

Now, I don’t know how often you’ve found yourself in the midst of a high-stress situation (OK; let’s just call it what it was – a panic button moment), but it is most definitely not fun. Oh sure; you can (if you’re paying attention) learn a lot from situations like this (like, for instance, make sure you get the currency right, ya big galoot!), but it’s not something you’d want to do every day, ya know?

Here I was, really pretty much exhausted by the entire last couple of weeks’ ordeal, and frustrated because of the hassles, aggravation, and outright mistakes I’d encountered (and yes, made). As my brainy friends, the Good Doctors Ellen Weber and Robyn McMaster will tell you, that sort of thing quickly drains all the vitality out of you in no time at all.

But when my boss told me those few little words, well, it was like being handed a glass of ice cold water after a hard slog through the desert. I mean to tell ya; it was truly an amazing moment. Within a matter of seconds, it literally transformed me from a position of weakness – to a position of strength!

Just a few words… how powerful is that?

It’s YOUR Turn Now

You know; you can change people’s lives with just a few words. Be they uplifting… or spiteful… they can make a difference that won’t be soon forgetten. Wanna try an experiment with me?

Your task, should you choose to accept it, my friends, is to find an opportunity to do the same thing to someone you know that my boss did for me. When you encounter someone who is obviously under tremendous stress (or maybe they just got through one), then try giving them an uplifting word or two.

I’d be willing to bet that you’ll not only have the amazing experience and joy of seeing someone completely transform right before your eyes, but you’ll learn a lesson you won’t soon forget! C’mon; be the water!

Let me know how it went, if you would. I’ll leave the light on for you.

[As I mentioned up at the top, this is my entry for this month's What I Learned From... groupwrite project. I'd like to invite you to join us with your own story of lessons learned. The topic this month is What I Learned From My Friends, and we're open for entries thru Sunday, Sept. 14^th. If you'll click on that cute little link there, you can read all about how to participate.]

Today we have the final installation in this week’s guest post marathon, with the anchor leg being run by none other than your friend and mine, Liz Strauss of Successful Blog (sound of crowd going wild)!

No matter what I could ever tell you, words are simply inadequate to describe the queen of relationship blogging. Back when I first began the Middle Zone, I accidentally stumbled across Successful Blog – and was so intimidated by the accumulated information, helps, and advice it literally scared me away! Luckily, good sense prevailed and I came back; I now count Liz as a genuine friend and continuing inspiration. If you’ve never visited her site, well Bubba, you’d better run, not walk, as fast as you can, and get there! You’ll understand what I mean.

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Editorial Wisdom

By Liz Strauss

Her name was Connie. She had just graduated with a Masters in English. She was bright, cheerful, and a fabulous thinker. That’s why I hired her. I was pretty sure she could run the world in a year or two. I figured she’d have no problem keeping track of me and the editors on my team.

Welcome to the world of publishing, Connie.

It happened just as predicted. Connie soon charmed leery editors into letting her help with what they were doing. Even those least ready to let go of their work would look for the morning meeting to go over things with our team member. She had won them over in a matter of days. Her work had lightened their load.

I was pretty pleased that things were working out as I had planned.

I kept coaching Connie to understand that editors have trouble with letting go of details and responsibility. I kept telling her how impressed I was that she had their trust so quickly.

I was also pretty pleased that I didn’t suffer from such fear of delegation.

Then one day I was looking at a package that Connie had prepared for me. It had everything, including a formal letter with my signature… This was a bit disconcerting.

“Connie,” I said, “Could you c’mere for a sec.” She came in. I spoke as kindly as I might. “One day, I’m sure I’ll feel great about you signing my letters, but I think it’s too soon now.”

“Liiiiiiz,” she said smiling. “YOU signed that.”

“Gosh, I’m glad I didn’t get all ballistic and weird over that. It could have been really embarrassing.”

She laughed and said, “Oh, I know editors have a problem with delegation. Sure is a good thing that you aren’t one.”

I kept my editorial wisdom to myself the rest of the day.

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Thanks, Liz, for giving us a glimpse of the Whacky World of Publishing. And many, many thanks to all the illustrious guest authors this week:

Karen Swim, of Words for Hire

Brad Shorr, of Word Sell, Inc.

Joanna Young, of Confident Writing

Y’all drop by their places and check ‘em out. Heck, add ‘em to your RSS readers, why don’cha? You’ll be glad you did!

To the four of you, I give you a big ol’ tip o’ the hat for sharing your wisdom with the Middle Zone community!

Would you willingly take on a project that had all the signs of being a real pain in the tookus? That’s the question fellow Texan and business blogger Laura Spencer asked not long ago in her post, Should You Accept an “Ugly Duckling” Project?

The questions struck a chord for me (sound of F^# major-minor augmented chord) – because I once did exactly that.

You know how, especially during warm summer months – when you see the clouds building, and the breeze freshens up rather suddenly, and off in the distance you can hear the rolling thunder – well, you know pretty soon there’s gonna be a humdinger of a storm, right? Yeah, it was like that.

When my manager and I first heard about this particular project (it was only a potential project at that time), we both recognized immediately there would be serious challenges in store for whoever took it on. If I recall correctly, I think our initial conclusions went something like this: a) it’ll never finish on schedule, b) it’ll go way over budget, c) it’s critical to plant operations (increasing the risk), and what’s more, d) it’s sure to be a high-profile project.

Well as it turned out, a) it didn’t, b) it did, c) it was and d) yes-a-rooni!

The irony (which as you know means made entirely of iron) goes even farther, too. I asked for the project. Yep, sometimes I’m crazy like that.

Now, of Laura’s five reasons to prove your insanity take on an ugly duckling project, that second one, “Your chance to shine” is why I asked for it. I recognized right off it would be an opportunity to manage a “stand out” project. And Bubba, stand out it did!

Warning Signs

Now, it wasn’t a particularly complex project or anything. No new technology, or even anything fancy. At its most basic, it was simply an equipment replacement. But here’s the four main reasons why it was so significant:

Budget – Normally, our particular group managed what’s termed “small projects” – usually up to about $5 million in total installed cost. However, in this case the equipment being replaced was rather expensive, making the estimate at nearly 4 times that amount. Although it was unusual for us to handle one of this size, it said something about the client’s confidence in our capabilities, and we had no intention of letting them down. (In fact, our company handled any-size projects, including multi-billion-dollar ones; it’s just that my particular group focused on these small projects only.)

Schedule – Typically, every project undergoes a scheduling process that first determines its duration, then coordinates a start date with all the other projects going on (usually 60-75 at a time). Sometimes, though, one comes along with a fixed “need date” much earlier than normal, hence the name: “fast track”. Alas, this particular project was not only on the fast track – it was an LGV high-speed express train at that (sound of terrified scream)!

Criticality – One thing that determines the need for a fast track schedule is the criticality of the project. In this case, on a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being the highest, this one was almost an 11! That usually means the existing equipment is about to fail at any moment. The bad news: if it does, the plant shuts down (resulting in several hundred thousand $$$ per day in lost revenues). Needless to say, they needed the new installation, and they needed it now! (Never mind that it should have been started a year or two earlier. But it’s OK; I’m over it now.)

Scrutiny – We handled so many project at any given time, it was unusual for any specific one to be singled out for special attention. Ordinarily the only ones they discussed in the Manager’s meetings were projects that varied from expectations in some shape or form (exceeded budget by a specified percentage, critical delays, etc.; that sort of thing). But this one had a guaranteed front-row seat at every meeting, thanks to its huge size and compressed schedule. Translation: they were watching it – and me – like a flock of hawks at a groundhog convention!

OK, now you know the score; you’re probably wondering how it worked out, right? Uh, right? (Either that or you’ve already moved on to the next blog in your RSS reader.)

The Best Laid Plans…

Well, as I indicated earlier, things didn’t… quite… go as the client had hoped. Sometimes even the best laid plans aren’t worth, as they say in East Texas, a hill o’ beans. I’m telling ya, we swooshed by their original deadline like the Silver Streak on steroids. And the budget – well, suffice it to say their initial estimates turned out to be several years old by the time we got actual, you know, real world pricing.

What kept the local antacid distribution company in business, though, was the onset of winter (the project was located in a north central U.S. state). The old equipment was in pretty bad shape, with a very real possibility that accumulating ice might cause the existing equipment to collapse.

Hey, we did our best, but unfortunately there wasn’t much we could do to speed things up much; at the time, most contractors were pretty much operating at full capacity already. (You know all that faldera you hear on the news about the economy being so terrible? Not true; just look at production - it’s off the charts!)

As things turned out, though, the key to success wasn’t a matter of managing the project. Hey, we had that part pretty well covered, if I do say so myself. I mean, project management is what we do, you know?

The REAL Challenge

No, the real challenge (and what most contributed to that suave, debonair “silver-haired” look you see in my photo) was managing the client’s expectations.

See, the biggest issue was the ridiculously abbreviated schedule. Everyone on the client’s side seemed to think that just because you could make it work on paper, then hey, it’s a done deal. But as we all know, the real world has a way of jumping up and biting you on the, er, brains, you know?

Believe me, the real world had a lot to say! There were unusually heavy rains, for instance, that literally flooded the entire area for several days. (I’m not kidding; it was so deep, the construction crews threw together an impromptu dock for Noah’s Ark, just in case.)

And, as winter deepened, ice accumulations often hindered foundation work as well as material deliveries. (Our contractors even tried to send a special team to northern Canada to see if they could find a few Inuit looking for work. Just kidding; they couldn’t find a dog sled going in the right direction.)

Then there were financing issues. It takes time to release that much money from most companies’ tight little fists, you know. Several times they had to essentially shut down the project until money could be released for the next stage of construction. Sheesh, if I had been a partaker of alcoholic beverages (gave it up 30 years ago), I’d have been a goner!

But still, no matter how capricious Mother Nature acted, the client still seemed to operate on a “perfect world” scenario. Oh, well; that’s how it goes sometimes.

Amazingly enough (and to everyone’s happy surprise) the old installation did NOT fall down under the weight of ice that winter. Spring arrived, and construction finally finished, leaving only the start-up and certification tasks to be completed. After everything was said and done, the project finally managed to creak its way into operation (around the beginning of Summer).

As for me, I managed to get a kudo or two in my record for having had to manage such a difficult project. Even though we didn’t even come close to hitting the original budget or schedule (because they were so unrealistic – and it was acknowledged by the client), it still got chalked up as a success for me personally.

For example, one of our performance indicators is the Total Dollar Value of all projects managed. In my case, this one project alone pushed my tracking numbers way up there; higher than anyone else’s at the time. So, even though the project had its share of difficulties, I was given high marks just for having this project on my record.

And so it went.

So What About You?

But enough about me; let’s talk about you!

Ever faced this kind of problem challenge experience? Yup; I dare say most of us have. Perhaps it’s inevitable that, sooner or later, we’ll all have to have to learn how to deal with unreasonable expectations from a client. (And for the sake of discussion, client can also be interpreted as: boss, spouse, friend, offspring, pet – hey, fill in as appropriate here.) So here’s today’s questions:

When did you last encounter issues with client expectations? Did you end up praying for a miracle, or was there some specific way you managed them? What’s your favorite technique for managing them? How did it turn out? Any techniques that work better than others? In what circumstances are they best? Got any good tips for us here – and care to share ‘em with the rest of us?

A post I wrote the other day titled It Came to Pass annoyed goaded prompted my friend and fellow wordsmith Brad Shorr into responding with his own thoughts on the distressing lack of eloquence we see in politics today. (You’ll have to go read it to know what I mean. Don’t worry; I’ll still be here when you get back.)

Now, to be honest, I prefer to keep the Middle Zone out of politics as much as possible. That’s not what the Zone is for. Besides, there’s a veritable plethora of political blogs, newsfeeds, and other information sources out there already if politics is your game.

(In case you’re new here, and wondering just what we are here for, it’s like it says right up there at the top: It’s about lessons learned… from life!)

After all, as the captain of this particular social aircraft, I’d rather steer clear of the ominous-looking dunderheads thunderheads gathering up there on the horizon. Overall, I’d think my passengers would appreciate a relatively smooth journey while here in the Zone, don’t you think?

Having said that, however, I believe that even without dipping our collective and figurative toes into the roiling political whirlpool, we can still find a lesson to be learned. I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least mention it.

Something’s Missing

I love Brad’s definition of eloquence: the ability to make big ideas sound big. And his dismay at the loss of true eloquence in the current political climate is, IMHO, right on the mark.

But I have to wonder, why is it we, the people, no longer cry out for eloquence from our leaders? What caused us to no longer expect the best from those who we choose to lead us? And why do we not expect if of ourselves? What, exactly, is missing?

I’m reminded of a sublimely eloquent illustration Jesus Christ made in the 5^th chapter of the Book of Matthew, where he spent several chapters outlining what the Kingdom of God meant:

You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt loses its savor, how shall it be seasoned? It is then good for nothing but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot by men. (The KJV Bible, Matthew 5:13)

Did you know salt can lose its savor – its saltiness? Yep; take a block of salt and leave it out in the weather for a while, and the flavor will leach right out of it. The only thing it’s good for then is, well, killing things. Really. Ancient Romans used to spread old salt on their roads as a very effective way to keep them from getting overgrown with grass and weeds.

Here’s the thing. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out how this metaphor applies to our own lives, does it? I mean, who can’t figure out the salt in this passage is, you know, us?

In fact, I’ll go even farther and say that savor (or flavor, or saltiness) is a metaphor for character (meaning our moral fiber, temperament, personality, disposition, nature, etc.)

Can We Get it Back?

So after a bit of circumlocution (which is a ten-dollar word that means taking the long way around), here’s the point I’m trying to make:

I’m afraid that we, as a people, have lost our savor. Yep; we no longer require, nor even expect, the highest level of character from our leaders anymore. In fact, we don’t even expect it of ourselves, either. Just watch the news any day of the week for proof.

Everywhere you look, the lack of moral (and every other kind of) character is evident the world over. Tyranny, corruption, hatred and downright pettiness; it’s everywhere. But the sad part about it is, quite a few people don’t seem to be bothered in the least. “Oh, it’s to be expected,” they’ll say. “Hey, they all do it; it’s normal.” And they’re right.

And that’s a real shame. Because if we don’t expect the best, then I guarantee we’ll get what we DO expect… every time! No wonder there’s very little evidence of big ideas, stated in a big way, anymore. Very few people even care enough to want them.

So the question is: have you lost your savor? Are you willing to stand up, have an opinion, and be heard? Will you take a stand for what you believe in? Do you expect yourself, and your leaders to represent the best, and not the worst in us?

I will say this. We do exist, and we’re looking.

What’s Your Opinion?

So what do you think about this whole “eloquence” thing? Do you agree it seems to be largely missing from the public arena these days? Or maybe not? Care to add your two cents into the pot and stir things up a bit? C’mon, we’re listening!

(photo: The Storm Cloud, by rachel r)