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?