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[Note from the Proprietor: This, as you have no doubt surmised (can’t put anything past you folks!), is part 2 of an unusually lengthy (for me, anyway) two-part post. In case you just escaped being abducted by aliens, fell off the planet and just climbed back on, or otherwise missed it, Part 1 can be found here. In order to capture the nub of the gist, you’ll need to read it first.]

Use It or Lose It

Well, I hear ya, my friends, and I’m here to tell ya - been there. So it’s OK; go ahead and leave your head in the sand a bit longer. Hey, you deserve a break, my friend; we all do every now and then.

Not to split hairs, but to my mind (which admittedly is a very strange place) it’s not really the decision itself that’s the problem. No, I think what really makes us sweat are the imagined consequences of that decision. Remember, it’s perception, not necessarily reality, we’re dealing with here.

I mean, when decision-time comes along, what you really spend most of your time doing is pondering those pesky consequences of your life-cha- what do you say, for convenience (and to avoid that pesky screaming), let’s just call it an LCD, why don’t we? - your LCD, right? You might end up mentally juggling two, three (or ten, for that matter) possible outcomes. (That’s why they’re LCD’s, don’cha know.) (Juggling metaphor, by backpackphotography)

But here’s the thing. See, learning to handle LCDs is not only something to be expected - hey that’s just life - but I say “big” decision-making should be something to look forward to, and maybe even profit from (sound of needle scratching across a vinyl record).

Alright, about now I can hear you saying to yourself, “Man, this whack job has finally lost it! Now he thinks I should be happy to agonize over LCD’s!”

Well, before we go on, lemme just clarify a couple of things: a) I haven’t finally ‘lost it’; I actually lost it awhile back. To tell you the truth, I don’t really miss it; b) wasn’t an agonizer booth a Klingon punishment device in that weird alternate universe where Mr. Spock wore a beard? And c) you should really do something about that ‘talking to yourself’ thing; people are beginning to, you know, stare.

So what the heck do you mean, you ask? Hey, am I glad you asked! See, decision-making is like anything else; to get really good at it (and to realize the benefits from it), well, it’s a skill you have to practice.

One can liken it to the way a body-builder prepares for the Mr. (or Ms.) Universe competition. They don’t start over at the big weights, you know. No, they start small and work their way up, giving their bodies - specifically their muscles - time to develop. Even more importantly, once they start, they never stop.

What, you think Lou Ferrigno was born that way? (Uh-oh; excuse me while I try to shake off that image.) No, silly; he diligently worked at for years.

See, if you spend all your time avoiding decisions (c’mon, admit it; you’ve done it now and then, haven’t you?), well, your decision-making ability begins to atrophy (which is a technical term that means roughly Hey, nice trophy; so you accomplished something once. But what have you done lately?) Yep; it’s very much like a muscle in that respect; you only have two choices: you either use it or lose it.

Alright, maybe it’s about time I got around to making my point.

What to Do - and What You Get

The problem, as I mentioned before, is actually one of attitude. After all, if you can’t change the fact that LCDs are as inevitable as the onset of chest-of-drawers syndrome (you know, where everything at chest level eventually ends up in the drawers), then maybe we need to concentrate on what we can change: our attitude.

So, how does one go about changing one’s attitude about something they’d rather avoid at all costs? Well, I’m here to tell you: it’s simple… but not easy.

Face it - OK, first things first. Until you face up to the fact that LCDs are both necessary and inevitable, well, you might as well stop reading right here. (On the other hand, since you’ve come this far, you might as well finish this post. You may be glad you did.) It’s like any other problem challenge you face; until you acknowledge it’s there, you can’t possibly do anything about it - or learn something from it. (Mirror 1, by leifE)

Step back a bit - Think about it (sound of gears grinding); when you find yourself facing an LCD, doesn’t your world sorta narrow down to that one issue, and that one issue alone? It’s almost like you put blinders on and you find it almost impossible to think of anything else. Like being on a racetrack, going ‘round and ‘round and… OK, enough metaphors. It’s sorta the nature of the beast. But probably the best thing you could do is take a large economy-sized step backwards and take a look at the bigger picture. How does this LCD fit in with the rest of your life? How does it affect your world, your friends, or your family? Asking yourself these questions might even be the key to an innovative solution you may have been missing.

Talk it out - Alright; speaking as a human being of the male persuasion, I can honestly agree that most of us don’t like to ask for help. I’m sure you ladies experience the same thing to some degree (at least, I’d like to think so!), but it does tend to be particularly difficult for us guys. Sometimes, though, the best thing we can do is open up to someone we respect and trust and just lay it out there. For one thing, talking about it somehow makes it easier to face. For another, by simply saying it out loud, you might find it’s not as bad as it sounded in your head. Finally (should you be willing to ask), getting another’s point of view might be surprisingly useful in providing a solution you didn’t think of before. I know; it’s happened to me countless times. (Conversation, by jurek D.)

Involve the affected - The fact is, most LCDs affect more than just you. If you’re married, if you have children, if - well, you get the idea. But if you don’t involve them in the decision process, you’re going to be in for some stormy weather ahead, lemme tell ya! Once again, multiple viewpoints make for multiple solutions. Even better, they encourage consensus as well. What’s the big deal about that, you ask? Well, consensus builds support. Need I say more?

Practice making decisions - What’s the best way to get good at making big decisions? Make lots of small ones! There’s a great scene from the movie You’ve Got Mail, in which Joe Fox points out that Starbucks has done people a favor: they force coffee drinkers to make six decisions at the start of each day (regular or grande? caff or decaff? etc.), just so they could practice their decision-making ability. Go ahead and laugh, but it’s a valid point. (The Choices, by Orin Optiglot)

Now, assuming you’ve started putting the above principles into practice, once your decision-making muscles start to build you’ll begin to notice some interesting benefits.

Confidence -One thing you’ll notice is that you’ll start to be more confident in your decision-making ability. And there’s no more powerful feeling than (well-placed) confidence in your own ability to assess those LCDs when they rear their ugly heads! Now, instead of dreading them like you used to, you’ll find yourself ready to evaluate, consider and respond. Instead of agonizing over days, weeks, or even months, you’ll enjoy the ability to make the decision and move on to other things, with very little, if any, grief, agony, or gnashing of teeth.

Power - Closely related to confidence is the feeling of power. You’ll look in the mirror and see a much more powerful person standing there. No longer reduced to a sniveling mass of icky goo (yuck!) every time an LCD pops up on the radar, you’ll be ready to face whatever life has to offer, no matter what - and what’s more, you’ll enjoy it!

Now do you see how you can change your attitude about LCDs? Like I said; it’s actually pretty simple - but certainly not easy. However, with effort and practice, and yes, a little help from your friends, you too can become a brand new person when it comes to those big, honkin’ decisions. Maybe still not quite able to leap tall buildings at a single bound, but still…

So what about it? What would you add to the list above? How do you manage those pesky LCDs?

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

[NOTE: Since this post ended up‘waaaay longer than usual (eek! 2670 words!), rather than subject you to an excruciatingly lengthy read today, I decided to split it into two parts. This here, as you can no doubt surmise from the title, is Part 1; Part 2 comes tomorrow. Assuming, of course, we’re all still here tomorrow. I mean, you never know…]

Hey, we all have to make decisions, but don’t you, at times, absolutely hate having to make ‘em? Yuk. Especially the big, honkin’, “earth-shattering-consequences” ones. Yeah, you know what I’m talking about.

And you know what I hate the most? There’s nothing you can do to avoid them! (Can I get an “amen” here?) Oh, sure; you can pretend they’re not really all that important and hope they’ll go away.

But that’s not really a valid solution, as you hopefully have come to realize (uh, you DO realize that, don’t you?) Yep; sooner or later she comes home to roost. And even not deciding to decide, er, decides it, if you know what I mean. (Photo: decisions, by cuellar)

Well then! Since we seem to agree that big decisions are pretty much as inevitable as Star Wars Episode 33, or Rocky XXVII - and, since everybody has to make ‘em, like it or not - well then maybe, just maybe it’s not the decision that’s the problem. (I can hear you responding with something brilliant like, “Urk! Huh?” Hey, not to worry; I’ll explain.)

As I said, maybe it’s not the decision, but it’s (can I get a drumroll, please?) the attitude. If that’s the case, well, perhaps (hang on; lemme open up the ol’ toolbox and get out the BIG hammer) it’s time for an attitude adjustment.

That First Step is a Dilly!

Hey, I know all about big decisions. Back in 1985, we were in quite a quandary (which I believe is an old Ecuadorian saying that translates roughly as deep doo-doo). Mrs. MZM and I had been married in 1982, and during the first three years of our marriage, we experienced quite a few sudden surprises. For instance…

Mrs. MZM retired during our first year (yes, it was planned; about the only thing that was). However, in one of those decidedly non-serendipitous little surprises life sometimes throws at you now and then, I was unexpectedly laid off exactly one week later. Consequently, the new house we were building… well, let’s just say that dream sorta crashed and burned in a somewhat spectacular fashion (sound of crashing, burning… and sobbing).

Then, on our 1^st Anniversary, Mrs. MZM’s father changed his home address to Heaven. Naturally, there were some personal upheavals (he is sorely missed!), along with all the complications such an event typically ensues.

The last brick on the pile was the engineering business was experiencing a severe downturn (like most industries, it tends to follow cycles) and work was getting pretty scarce in the Houston area.

As a result, we began to consider leaving Houston for the first time. (It’s not that we didn’t want to; it’s just that her father needed looking after.) Now, having both been born and raised in the same town (Houston), we had a hard time imagining life “somewhere else”, you know? I mean, sometimes it’s hard to leave comfortable surroundings for the (sometimes not-so-) great unknown.

But, that indeed seemed to be the message the ol’ finger was writing on the wall, so to speak. So we did our best to try to evaluate the pros and cons as best we could.

Finally, we could wait no more; there was simply no work available in the ol’ homestead. So one fine Monday morning, Mrs. MZM and I said a prayer, took a deep breath, and mailed 175 resumes (yep; you read it right!) to assorted locations all over the U.S. This was it; the whole job search was totally in God’s hands now. All we could do was simply wait and see what happened.

Amazingly, within two weeks I received several calls from various agencies, and it was with an excited, yet slightly nervous heart I accepted a contract position in the completely mysterious locale known as Greenville, South Carolina (don’t worry; I had to look it up, too). As it turned out, the engineering job slump we were experiencing in Houston was actually somewhat localized; the job market was actually pretty hot in South Carolina at that time. Who knew?

Anyway, not having done this sort of thing before, I understandably went with a sortof “checking it out” attitude. So Mrs. MZM stayed home for the first month or so, just long enough for me to get a feel for how long the job might last (continuity of income has a tendency to score rather high on the priority list, you know).

However, it quickly became evident there was plenty of work (several years, at least), so we took yet another deep breath, and moved - lock, stock and barrel. (Although to this day, we can no longer find our lock, stock or our barrel; guess the movers lost those too. If you’ve ever moved cross-country, you’ll know the feeling.)

Decisions, Decisions

Go ahead; ask anybody! Making big, life-changing decisions (flash of lightning; crash of thunder; sound of terrified scream) ain’t easy. We’ve all had to make our share of ‘em. What’s even more irritating is, they keep on comin’, getting bigger and more dramatic as time goes by. In fact, you may be facing, or be in the middle of one, right this minute. Hey, it’s all part of the adventure we call life.

When you were still a kid, you hadn’t been required to make that many big decisions yet, and thus didn’t have the confidence (gained from experience) to know you were, you know, doing the right thing. That’s why, at that age, most decisions seem to be practically all life-changing decisions (once again: lightning, thunder, screaming).

Then, when you got to the dreaded teen years, you were pretty much involved with school, friends, etc., at least until it came time to start thinking about life, higher education and careers. It’s too bad it comes at such a tender young age - but then again, I guess we gotta start sometime, right? Things start getting hairy about then (er, sorry).

Questions like, Who should I hang out with? Or, What university and/or career should I be thinking about? Should we have sex now, or wait? Should I cheat on that test or not? Not to mention the ever-popular, God, are you really there?

Well, you remember. You began to realize: it’s tough (and really not much fun) making big decisions. Alas; it never gets any easier (sound of heartfelt sobbing).

As we reach adulthood, consequences get even bigger. The question of who to marry (should it ever come up), our belief in God (and what we’ll do about Him), which job to accept (should you be blessed with a choice - not everybody is, you know), where to live - well; the list goes on and on.

_______________________

OK, folks; thus ends Part 1 of the riveting real-life drama, As the Worm Turns (otherwise known as Life in the Middle Zone). Stay tuned for tomorrow’s dramatic conclusion: Use It or Lose It!

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

Balance - n. proportion; the harmonious arrangement of parts or elements within a whole.

We’re all juggling assorted stuff in our lives, right? School (if you’re a student), work, family, career, friends, play - the list goes on and on (and believe me, it does!) And sometimes it’s tempting to think that if you can keep at least most of them going well, then things will generally work out.

C’mon, admit it; you’ve thought that at least once or twice I’m sure. I know I did once. But not anymore.

Back in 1974, I took a break from Texas A&M, and for one semester I attended Sam Houston State College, over in Deer Park. Located on the southeast side of town (I lived on the northwest side), it was about an 80-mile round trip from home.

And, for a while during that semester, I took a part-time job at a post office over on the northeast part of Houston. Hey, it paid VERY well for that day and time; at least 3 or 4 times minimum wage (vast wealth to a poor college shmoe like me, I’ll tell ya).

See, on the one hand, there were some great things about that job, the main ones being:

1. Reasonable responsibility - I “opened” the station each morning, taking the bags of mail delivered overnight (the mail was already sorted into separate long bins for each delivery route) and placing them on each mail carrier’s sorting desk for final sorting (each carrier sorted according to how they followed their individual routes).
2. Decent work environment - After only a few days, I managed to get to know my carriers, at least a little bit. Although we didn’t exactly “work together” (I did my thing, then they did theirs), the atmosphere of the station was enjoyable. I’ve had some jobs I hated, just because of the conditions, but this one was no problem at all.)
3. Excellent pay - I already mentioned it was great pay - several times’ what I’d be making at the local burger joint or whatever other minimum wage job available. At the time, wild horses couldn’t keep me from going for that kind of money!
4. Fewer hours - One benefit of working for higher pay was that I didn’t have to work so many hours. Always a plus for a student and strapping young fellow like me! I mean, working hard is acceptable, but working like a slave - well, not so much.

Now, with those things in mind, you’d think I’d have milked that baby for all it was worth, right? (Uh-oh, you know what’s comin’, don’t ya?) Yep; unfortunately, almost immediately I discovered there were a few flies in this particular pie, if you know what I mean. For instance:

1. Working hours - I had to open the Station at 4 am every day, six days a week (I still can’t believe I managed it!) That, of course, meant I had to get up at 3 am, in order to have time to dress, eat and drive there (it was about 20 miles away, and in a different direction from school, which bumped my daily round trip up to nearly 100 miles per day! Luckily gas was only 25 cents a gallon back then!) Which led to…
2. Not enough sleep - As a corollary to the above, I had to go to bed no later than 8 pm to even have a prayer of getting enough rest each night! Notice I didn’t say sleep - I never could get to sleep that early; it was more like about 10-10:30 instead. Of course, this produced…
3. Zombification - After a few weeks of this routine, I could barely function. In fact, if someone from Hollywood had been looking for zombies for a new Night of the Living Dead movie, I’d have been chosen hands down! (Luckily there are no photos; they would only scare the women and children anyway.) But this ended up causing me to…
4. Fall asleep in class - Yep; it finally happened. See, I had to be at class every day at 8 am (M-F that is). And the first class was an Algebra class (don’t ask!), so there was no “sailing through” it. I’d come in, sit down in my seat, and because I could barely keep my eyes open, find myself “jerking awake” (an awful feeling at best) several times during the class. (Good thing I never woke up with magic marker glasses - or worse - drawn all over me.) Which inevitably made me…
5. Wake up in a cold sweat - What finally tripped the “I can’t do this anymore” lever for me was the morning I woke up in class to the sound of the bell - in a drenching, cold sweat. Not only had I no recollection of even arriving at school (much less class), I’d slept through the entire hour! I suddenly realized something: the class bell sounded almost exactly like my alarm clock! No wonder I dreaded that sound every morning! It finally dawned on me: I was conditioning myself to HATE that sound! At least Pavlov’s dogs got a treat when their bell rang.

Ah, well - after about 5 or 6 weeks of this torture (I don’t remember - it’s all a haze anyway), I finally had to quit the job because it was making every other part of my life a mess. Although it was a shame to lose out on the quite substantial cash flow, by then I was ready to cheerfully accept pauper status again, just to be able to sleep relatively normal hours once.

Nope; those big ol’ paychecks just weren’t worth it; my life ended up with no balance whatsoever. And therein lie three simple lessons:

• Money Isn’t Everything. Come to think of it, there are some legitimate times when it’s nothing! No matter how much someone offers you; if you hate the job it ain’t worth it! Trust me on this one, friends; don’t do it!

• Look at the Big Picture. One of the reasons I was going to this particular school was so I could get back to Texas A&M the next semester. See, I didn’t, um, do too well that last semester and decided to live at home and work while I got back up to speed. Unfortunately, although the job paid well, it really, really hindered my goal of, well, actually learning something! I had to step back and refocus on the big picture.

• Balance in All Things. Hey, I was recovering academically (check), making new friends (check), earning some money (check) - in fact, everything was going according to plan. Uh, except for the little niggling detail that one thing - work - was killing all the rest of them! Not good. I discovered, in the hardest way possible, the need to balance them all to have any hope of success. Lucky for me I was teachable!

So, if you find your life out of balance, well, my advice is to sit down and take a hard look at all the things you’re juggling right now. Oh, sure - maybe they’re all important (mine were); critical, even.

But here’s the thing.

Without that one thing - balance - everything else is liable to get all out of kilter, possibly ruining everything! Like I said; you might be tempted to keep on going, thinking that at least most everything else will work out.

But trust me on this one, friends: Search for, and keep, the balance in all things. Hey - manage that, and then you might be amazed at what you can really accomplish!

(Photo credits: Stone balance tower, by gilest; Balancing Act, by Don Fulano)

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

Have you ever been on the phone with someone when they suddenly and inexplicably… just stopped talking? Not like a cell phone, when you (supposedly or for real) get cut off due to signal loss. No, I mean the connection is still there, but it’s like they dropped the phone without hanging up.

Well, ironically enough, that very thing happened to me once when I was out of town on a short, 6-week assignment. See, there was this refinery client in California who needed these special, um, things (never mind what they were) manufactured by a particular vendor in Charlotte, North Carolina.

Now, normally this isn’t a big deal. In this case, however, these… things… were so critical that it was deemed worth the expense to have someone (like yours truly) actually go to their facility and check the finished dimensions as they were built. That way, when they got to the field, there wouldn’t be any worries about ‘fit’ during construction, right? It should all go together like a giant Lego set.

The challenge, though, was the, er, things were being designed almost simultaneously with being built, which necessitated a considerable amount of communication between my boss back in Houston and me. No problem there; we had a good relationship, and I had been loaded down with drawings, etc. before leaving the office.

Anyhoo, one fine morning I was on the phone with my boss, smack in the middle of discussing a potential change to one of the drawings, when I suddenly noticed I had pretty much been talking to myself for about a minute or two. I stopped, called his name on the phone a few times, but didn’t hear anything except distant, sortof random noises. What the heck?

Finally, I hung up and called back. Nope; nothin’. I tried again; now all I got was a busy signal. (This was back in prehistoric times - before cell phones.) I tried a few other office numbers that I knew were nearby, then other friends I knew in other parts of the building. Still nothin’ but busy signals - only now it seemed like it was the whole doggone office! I really started to wonder, how could the ALL be busy? The rest of the day I kept trying, to no avail.

All kinds of things started going through my mind about this time. Had there been a run on the donut cart? Had there been a fire? Was Houston being attacked by Godzilla? I mean, what could it be? I finally went home that day, still completely mystified.

The next day I tried again, but there were still no answers. Finally, the following day I received a call about midmorning - it was my boss! Hallelujah! I no longer had to play “Lone Stranger” with the client, pretending everything was still peachy-keen.

Ironically enough, my guesses hadn’t been too far off. It turned out there had been a sudden and very strong storm passing through Houston at the time, and along with it, record-setting winds (some were recorded at nearly tornado-strength!), particularly in the downtown area where the office was located.

See, our building was one of those that have an outer layer of big glass panes, right? Well, my bosses’ office happened to be in the corner of the 16^th floor, and it just so happened that as we were talking, the wind suddenly ripped one of those panes right off the building - quickly followed by just about every loose piece of paper in the vicinity! Yikes! Holy Cow! Not to mention Whooo-eey!

What would you do? Well, while this was going on, my boss, an experienced Vietnam Vet, dropped the phone and was under the desk in less than a heartbeat (he was very proud of those cat-like reflexes he’d developed while ‘in country’), clinging to the metal supports for dear life.

Hey, I’m not ashamed to admit that, under the circumstances, I’d have done the very same thing (with the possible addition of screaming like a girl). I mean, it’s not everyday you get an up close and personal encounter with an almost-tornado!

It had taken the building crew a couple of days to restore power and put a big piece of plywood over the opening, and finally work resumed. But for a couple of days it was pretty messy. Ah, well, at least everyone was all right; no permanent damage done.

Although my boss did move to another desk away from the windows.

Hello? Hello? Are You Still There?

It occurs to me this is something we do with each other, too. Are there friends, acquaintances or contacts you used to keep in touch with on a regular or semi-regular basis - but now you don’t?

I’m sorry to say over the years I’ve been the worlds worst at keeping in touch. Oh, I’ve had good reasons, mind you. After all, we’ve moved quite a bit over the years, plus there’s the inevitable “out of sight, out of mind” thing, too. Sadly, some folks who were once close to me are no longer even on my radar screen anymore.

The unfortunate results? Well, although it took a while for me to see it (since I’m apparently something of a slow learner), I’ve found my own life is somewhat, well, smaller now than it could’ve been. The addition of my friends’ insights, their friendship, even their laughter - well, it’s simply missing. And even worse, now that I’ve (finally!) noticed the loss, it’s anywhere from difficult to downright impossible to reestablish the connection. I mean, they’ve moved on, too - and who could blame them?

All I can say is, it doesn’t have to be that way. With today’s technology, there are plenty of ways to find people you once knew. Facebook, LinkedIn, and any number of other social networking sites are surprisingly good at that. Even using Google, if their name is unique enough, can be useful. (For instance, as far as I’ve been able to tell, when you Google “Robert Hruzek” you’ll find that, like Tigger, I’m the only one. Maybe that’s why I feel a special kinship with the furry little critter.)

All I can say is, I wish that I had been better at it keeping in touch; I really miss those folks sometimes.

Take a lesson from someone who knows (albeit a bit late). Take the time to keep those connections alive. I mean, you never know; you might just need them one day!

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

Note: This is my contribution to Brad Shorr’s cartoon-inspired contest. Check it out; there may still be time to enter and win an Ipod Nano!

Saying what you mean ain’t that easy, is it? (C’mon now, nod your heads and say it with me: “Uh-huh” Great! Isn’t it just peachy when we all get along like that?)

Anyway, you may remember a couple of weeks ago when I wrote about that airline pilot’s rather “exciting” day? Do you remember that “point of no return”? That’s the critical spot where the pilot can no longer stop the plane before running out of runway; you pretty much have to take off once you cross that line.

Well, there’s something like that for bloggers, too. It’s called the PUBLISH button.

I don’t know how many times it’s happened to you, but as for me - well, examples are legion. Here’s just two of them…

• A while back, when I was just getting to know Liz Strauss and her amazing community, I tuned into one of her Open Mic Nights. We were in the midst of my Let’s Be Brief contest last January, and in my enthusiasm, in a comment that night I posted an invitation for everyone to “come on over” and participate. Y’know, Liz is such a gracious woman! (Thank goodness!) A little while later she sent me a private email and asked me - did I, er, mean to ask people to “leave her site and go to mine”? Boy, you could have knocked me over with a feather (sound of… well, you know)! Although it was the farthest thing from my mind, when I went back and read what I had actually written - well, that’s exactly what I had done! (Open mouth; insert foot up to knee; chew vigorously.) Sure wish there’d been a way to rewind that one! (Luckily, all’s well now and we’re still friends… er, right Liz?)

• One thing that really chaps my hide is bad speeling! Oh, sure; I’ve been guilty of it myself from time to time, but that just makes it even more aggravating! How many times have I written a comment, pushed PUBLISH, only to read it one last time and discover I misspelled something, or left out a word, or - something. Arrgh! Spit! (Sound of hitting head on desk, repeatedly.) That’s why I’m so pleased to see a new WordPress Plugin giving commenters the ability to edit their words for a short period of time! I’m tellin’ ya, this has got to be the greatest thing since cheeseburgers in a can! No matter how many times you read and re-read your comment before pushing that fateful button, it always seems to read differently once posted, doesn’t it? Man, I got to get me one of these! Now if I could *sigh* just get one for, er, real life.

The list goes on and on… unfortunately. But take heart, my friends! There are a few things you can do to help combat that pesky point-of-no-return known as the PUBLISH button (sound of audience sighing in relief).

Y’know; looking over this brief list, I would consider most of these points “no-brainers” (but then I’d be, um, admitting to something I’d rather not). So without further ado, may I present -

5 things you should do BEFORE you hit “publish”:

• Know your message - It never hurts to start with this one. Don’t worry about the words you’ll use yet, just consider what it is you’re attempting to impart to the reader. Think of this as the template for your message.

• Know your audience - Consider, for instance, any cultural clues you might need, as well as other things that affect how people read your words. In our modern-day “mixing pot” cultures, you must consider where your audience is “coming from”, so to speak. Otherwise, they might miss the message, like the folks in that cartoon up there.

• Step away - Sometimes, when the writing gets hot and heavy (like, trying to meet a deadline, or in the midst of inspiration), your brain starts outrunning your fingers by a wide margin. See, what happens is, you could swear you wrote down what you’re thinking in your head, but unfortunately - you didn’t. So in your memory it’s perfect, right? So why go back to check?

• Hear it out loud - Here’s one piece of advice I keep hearing from just about everybody. Try reading it out loud and see if something “bumps” the smooth flow of words. Believe me, it’ll stick out like a sore thumb. I’d go so far as to say this is pretty much an essential technique for good copy.

• Read - and re-read it! - Y’know; I keep hoping I’ll get better over time on this one *sigh*. Alas, it never fails; no matter how short, simple and sweet it is, when I read it back I’ll invariably find a spelling mistake (I blame the keyboard) or a grammatical error (I blame… never mind), or something that looks out of place, like a missing word - or an entire sentence! There is just no substitute for this one, folks.

I deliberately left this list unfinished so you could add your own favorite tip, so I know this will be something of a loaded question: What one or two things would YOU add to this list?

Believe it or not, an excellent example of that last one is right here on the Zone! It’s in, of all things, my ebook, Poke it With a Sharp Stick. It’s essentially a compendium of six of my favorite early stories from right here in the Middle Zone. Basically I just cut and pasted them into a single document with a little additional info added. Oh, there was a little editing to make things “come out right”, spacing-wise, but otherwise they’re pretty much as I originally wrote them.

So I get the book all put together nice and neat, pop it into .pdf format, and publish it to the world. Apparently, it’s been pretty well received (I’ll use my Elvis voice here: thank you - thank you very much) because to date it’s been downloaded - let’s see - 1,208 times from my site (plus several hundred times from my friend Tully’s site).

Now before I put this thing “out there”, you better believe I read, re-read, re-re-read, and - well, you get the picture, right? I must have re-read it at least 20-25 times. So naturally, it’s as perfect as a book can be.

Well… er, just the other day, I happened to open it up again for the first time in I don’t know how long, and right there, big as day, I found an entire sentence missing! (Where is it, you ask? Well, I’ll tell ya what - download it and see if you can find it.)

It just goes to show ya, you can’t bee two carful, now, can ya? Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!

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

As a follow-up to my last post, I have a few questions for you.

When you attempt to communicate, are you quite sure that what people hear is exactly what you meant to say? What if a word you use doesn’t mean the same to the other person as it means to you? What if you accidentally use the wrong word? What happens to the message?

Quite a few years ago, the future Mrs. MZM and I made a commitment to go on a church mission trip to San Paolo, Brazil. During the initial orientation meeting (it’s where we first met, actually) we were advised about a basic Portuguese language class being offered for those of us who planned to go.

Now, it wasn’t required, mind you, since there were to be interpreters assigned to each of our groups. But we knew that learning at least a little Portuguese would make it easier to communicate, so it seemed like a good idea. Besides, at least attempting the language might even open a few doors. (It’s quite true, and something I’ve practiced in every country I’ve ever had the privilege to visit.)

Anyway, we spent several weeks learning stock phrases that might come in handy. Besides the all-important, “Excuse me; where’s the bathroom?” we learned many more, including “How are you?”, “Howdy; I’m a Texan from Texas,” and especially, “I speak very little Portuguese. Do you speak English?”

Essentially, we learned how to break the ice with total strangers (which, alas, is something I’m still trying to learn). Our interpreters would be there to handle most of it, but it was fun to at least get things started.

Occasionally, though, our crash course in Portuguese, er, let us down, if you know what I mean. Every now and then, when we thought we were saying one thing, we were actually saying something completely different. This happened far too often, and occasionally led to some hilarious incidents.

One day, several of us, including our Senior Pastor, Brother John (who had just arrived from our church in Houston), were visiting the Flower Market, a huge open-sided building where flowers of every description were bought and sold for seemingly ridiculous prices. (I remember buying an entire spray of orchids for about $5!) We spent most of the day walking about, enjoying the sights, and attempting to practice our really bad Portuguese to anyone who would listen.

I watched as my new friend (and future Mrs. MZM) began a conversation with this one fellow. It was going quite well, actually - at least until she decided to introduce him to our Pastor. She called Brother John over, and as they shook hands, she solemnly informed the man this was our “pecador grande” - whereupon the man and our interpreter both burst out laughing!

After a few moments, the interpreter said a few words to our new friend, then turned to us and said, “I’m sorry, but instead of introducing your Pastor as “a great preacher“, you just said he was “a great sinner!” (Hey, in her defense, the two words do sound similar: pecador = sinner; pregador = preacher.)

Well, we all just about fell down laughing. Brother John took it in stride, of course, laughingly (via our interpreter this time!) assuring the man, “Well, I may be a sinner, but I try not to think of myself as a particularly great one!”

So, the big question is, has this ever happened to you?

(photo: Old man (with many hands) teaching Finnish sign language“, by gak)

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

“I know that you believe that you understand what you think I said, but I’m not sure that you realize that what you heard is not what I meant.”

- A statement most often attributed to Robert McCloskey, U.S. State Department spokesperson at one of his regular noon briefings during the worst days of the Vietnam War.

The other day I was sitting in our weekly status meeting with about six or seven of the other consultants in my, um, “area of expertise”. (Like doctors, in the consulting world, it’s called a “practice”. Which sorta begs the question: when do we quit practicing and actually, er, get on with it?)

Now, it’s no exaggeration to say this is a pretty smart bunch. Having just joined the practice myself, whenever we get together I try to listen closely so I can learn as much as I can. You know; the ol’ “fly on the wall” bit. It’s a tried-and-true learning technique.

So like I said; I’m sittin’ there, listening to the conversation and taking mental notes. About the, um, only problem was, I had no idea what they were talking about! I mean, some of the terms I understood. And I knew they were talking about a chemical process that had to do with several of our current projects. I got that part, at least.

But as to the specific details of the conversation, well, I felt a lot like ol’ Ginger up there in that hilarious Far Side cartoon. I was reduced to just listening for my name.

Can You Run That By Me Again?

A while back, at a job-networking mixer, I remember once asking some fellow what he did for a living. He responded with a lot of technical jargon that had to do with network configurations, programming languages, and assorted other “computer stuff”. I looked at him and said, “You know, what I just heard was, “Blah, blah, blah, blah!”

Luckily, he laughed. But I think he got my point.

[Note: It was one of those “moments of insanity” I’ve mentioned before. (It’s true: Hello. I’m Bob, and I’m a smart-aleck.) Usually it’s kept well under control, but sometimes… well, all I can say is, fortunately it doesn’t happen often enough to get me seriously hurt. Nevertheless, don’t try this at home!]

On another occasion (same event; different day), I asked to see the resume of a fellow Doc I had just met. After briefly studying all five densely-typed pages, I had to ask him, “OK; but what the heck do you do?” He knew exactly what I meant. Together we were able to rewrite it so it was a bit more readable to those of us who weren’t in his highly specialized area of expertise.

See, many times we get caught up in our own areas of expertise (or maybe we’re just showing off - but that’s a subject for another post), and the language or the terms we use begin to take on more and more specialized meanings.

Communication 101

C’mon, admit it. I’ve done it; you’ve done it; you’ve heard others do it too. So what’s the problem?

Oh, no problem, really. Unless, of course, it begins to exclude others from the conversation. That’s where we might begin to get into trouble. Why? Because nobody likes to be excluded!

See, there’s three parts to every communication. (Actually, there are more, but let’s just focus on these three right now.)

• Words - units of language that carry meaning
• Meaning - content carried by the words
• Context - discourse that surrounds a language unit and helps to determine its interpretation

The thing is, the meaning and context of what we say is just as important as the words we choose to say them with. So when we talk to people; when we write, when we send an email - when we communicate - well, let’s just say we need to be sure we have all three.

Otherwise, it might be just “Blah, blah, blah, blah.”

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