Anyhoo – a big ol’ Yeehaw! is in order for the participants in this month’s groupwrite project: What I Learned From Children. In fact, we had [updated] 18 entries this time around! (sound of crowd cheering enthusiastically)

So take a look at the list below, in which all the entries are listed in the order in which I found ‘em. Do yourself a favor and drop by each writers’ site and start a conversation, why don’cha? You’ll be glad you did.

• What I Learned From Children, by Stephen Smith at …words
• Join the Action! by Kevin Martineau at Shooting the Breeze
• Six Lessons Learned From Children, by Deb Brown at Need a Little Advice?
• What I learned from children, by Todd Jordan at The Broad Brush
• Why – the Most Valuable Word in Business, by Brad Shorr at Word Sell, Inc.
• The tale of the bird, the boy and the big brave steps, by Emma Newman at Post-Apocalyptic Publishing
• What I Learned from My Children: Simplicity, by Meryl at Meryl.net
• What I learned from children, by Paul Merrill at Shiny Bits of Life
• Write, Produce and Direct Your Own Destiny Program(ming), by Jeanne Male at Job Life Architect
• Living Here and Now, by Ulla Hennig at Ulla Hennig’s Weblog
• What I Learned From Children, by Geoffrey Philp at Geoffrey Philp’s Blogspot
• What I Learned From Children, by George Angus at Tumblemoose.com
• What I Learned From MY Children, by Karen Hanarahan at Best of Mother Earth
• What I Learned From… Children, by Stephen Smith at …words

And of course, here’s a few more from yours truly:

• Getting the Wrong Impression, by Robert Hruzek at Middle Zone Musings
• Christmas Day, 2009, by Robert Hruzek at Middle Zone Musings
• Jump With Joy! by Robert Hruzek at Middle Zone Musings
• The Day I Went Flying, by Robert Hruzek at Middle Zone Musings

I’d like to thank all those who participated this month, and hope you enjoy some of the wild, weird, and sometimes even whacky stuff that goes on here at the Zone. Don’t forget to drop by next month for another exciting episode of As The World Turns What I Learned From….

And of course, a big ol’ tip o’ the hat to ya!

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Hey, it’s bad enough when your customers get the wrong impression of you or your business. At least when you have a relationship with your customers, you might (at least, hopefully) get the chance to explain.

But what about when your customers give others the wrong impression? What the heck can you do then?

Bus Driver for Hire

Back when I was a starving student at Texas A&M, for spending money I drove shuttle buses around the campus. I’ll tell ya; that was one great job: flexible hours, good pay, and when you got right down to it, pretty easy work.

Probably the hardest part of the job was navigating through the sometimes narrow streets on campus. Generally speaking, that wasn’t too bad a problem – unless, of course, some bonehead parked their car where it shouldn’t have been. Many’s the time I wished we had a handy, er, dozer blade on the front of the bus. But I digress.

Anyway, one day my supervisor asked some of us if we wanted to earn a little extra income by working on an upcoming Saturday. Naturally we all perked up at that – until, that is, we heard what the job actually was. The task, he told us, was to drive the local Jewish elementary school’s children (about 200 or so of the little darlings) from College Station to downtown Houston. Turns out they had arranged a special showing of the stage version of Fiddler on the Roof for the kids, and the best way to get ‘em all there was using our buses.

Well, let’s see… on the one hand, the mental image of driving to Houston with 50 or so screaming elementary kids on my bus for approximately 3 hours – each way – was, well, a mite daunting. (For those of you familiar with the drive, what would normally take a little more than an hour-and-a-half or so would take at least twice as long for this trip because rules required us to drive no faster than 50 miles per hour.) Still, after due consideration, the lure of that extra spending money convinced four of us to finally throw caution to the winds and say, What the hey!

What’s This Got to Do with Beer?

By now you’re probably wondering just what the heck this image of assorted beer bottles has to do with this story. Hey, I’m glad you asked! The fact is, whenever I remember this particular day, it’s the only thing I can think of.

That’s because, for the entire 3-hour drive from College Station to Houston – and then again for the entire drive back – the kids sang what I consider to be the Worlds Stupidest Song: “99 Bottles of Beer”! Just in case you’ve lived under a rock your entire life and have never heard it (congratulations!), it goes like this:

99 bottles of beer on the wall,

99 bottles of beer –

You take one down,

And pass it around –

98 bottles of beer on the wall!

98 bottles of beer on the wall,

98 bottles of beer –

You take one down,

And pass it around –

97 bottles of beer on the wall!

97 bottles of –

Well, you get the picture, right? No kidding, y’all; they sang the entire stupid song down from 99 bottles to 1 – and then started over again. And again. And… again. I’ll tell ya; by the time we arrived at the Music Hall in downtown Houston, I was sorely tempted to let ‘em out – and then leave ‘em all there! Yeesh!

While the kids were inside watching the show, we four drivers found a coffee shop to hang out in. As I sat there, silently contemplating the trip back (with no small amount of dread), one of the other drivers finally broke the silence and asked, “Did your kids… uh, sing any songs on your bus?”

That was when the awful truth was revealed: it wasn’t just my group, but all of ‘em were singing that stupid song! What gives with that, we wondered. Just what the heck were they teaching those kids at that school, anyway?

Getting the Wrong Idea

After about 3.5 nanoseconds, though, I realized it wasn’t really the school’s fault their elementary-aged kids seem to have a fixation on, well, beer. Hey, kids are kids; they’ll do all kinds of things you won’t expect. Nature of the, er, beasts, if you follow me. And I reflected a moment or two on how easy it was to think of the school as bein’ the problem.

It’s really funny sometimes just what kind of impression your customers give of you, isn’t it? I mean, when you get right down to it, that’s something you really don’t have too much control over. Oh, sure; you can do your best to influence, mitigate, or even try to direct the conversation – but when you get right down to it, they’re pretty much gonna do what they’re gonna do.

If you were the principal of this particular school and just read this story, what would you be thinking along about now?

So the question is, how do you handle it when folks get the wrong idea about your business. Or even worse – what if the wrong impression is all about you?

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This is my entry for this month’s “What I Learned From Children” groupwrite project. Hey, you’re welcome to join us – all you have to do is follow this cute little link and read all about it!

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A Little History

Did you know the WILF project has been a (more-or-less) regular feature here at the Middle Zone for almost three years now? Yep; since May of 2007!

Since then there have been 29 editions with 805 entries, on every topic under the sun, including two of my favorites: WILF #11 (What I Learned From Odd Jobs – 43 entries) and WILF #23 (What I Learned From Adversity – 35 entries). Of course, the record for most entries still goes to Blogapalooza ’09 (What I Learned From 2008 – a whopping 128 entries).

Anyhoo – I’m inviting you to join hundreds of others who have participated in projects over the years. It’s really easy; all you have to do is write a post (or you can use an already-written one) that illustrates something you learned – and that has to do with the topic du jour.

This month, the topic is:

WHAT I LEARNED FROM CHILDREN

So the questions you have to ask yourself are this: Have you ever learned something from your children? From someone else’s children? When you were a child yourself? When a friend or acquaintance was a child? When you were standing next to a child? (Like I said, even related to the topic is good enough to qualify.)

How To Participate

All you have to do is send me the link to a post that fits the topic. It can be either new or an existing post, but it has to be from your own blog. I’m accepting entries from now thru Sunday, February 7^th.

So just to review…

1. Write a post (or send me the link to an existing post) on your blog with a link to THIS POST (uh, the one you’re reading now). By the way, feel free to be as eloquent (or concise) as you like.
2. Send me an email (rhruzek@sbcglobal.net) containing your name, the title of your post, and the permalink of the post. (To make sure I don’t miss it.)

That’s all there is to it! Then on Monday, February 8^th, I will post the entire list of entries right here at the Middle Zone; be sure and drop by to check ‘em all out.

As always, we have just two simple rules around here:

• For the sake of the general blogging audience, please keep it G-Rated. (Also please note: this is a request, not a demand, since after all it’s your blog and you can do what you want. Fair warning: I can choose to link to you or not.)
• Be nice.

All right, ladies and gentlemen; you know what to do! Grab the writing instrument of your choice, dig into your archives, and get to it!

[Note from the Proprietor - I realize it takes a little time to write your entries, but would you mind too terribly not waiting until midnight on Sunday night, February 7th to notify me? Sometimes it can be difficult to get them all compiled by Monday's 6 am post time! I surely thank you, and as a token of my appreciation - have yourself a cookie!]

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Hey, in case you’re wondering about the slow week here at the Zone (I’m assuming that’s true – if it ain’t… please don’t disillusion me!) it’s because today’s my birthday and I’ve sorta been layin’ low on purpose.

Don’t you worry ’bout a thing, y’all; I’ll be back on Monday with the kickoff to our next What I Learned From… groupwrite project! See ya then!

In the meantime, I think I’ll have another slice of that cake…

p.s. If you think I did this just to fish for compliments, why I’m shocked – simply shocked you would even suggest such a thing! I would never do that. No, to be honest, I was fishing for presents! Just send your cash or checks to – ouch (sound of blunt object hitting back of head)

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Well, wonder no more! For those of you who may have been wondering what happened to our monthly What I Learned From… groupwrite projects, I’m pleased to announce I’m kicking off the first one for 2010 on next Monday, February 1! (sound of crowd cheering enthusiastically)

The topic will be (sound of drum roll) … What I Learned From Children

Now, for those of you who have no idea what I’m talking about, here’s the deal:

If you’d like to participate, all you have to do is write a post (or link to an existing post) that addresses the topic. Something you learned from, because of, or with the topic du jour (which in this case is, of course, children). Post it on your blog by the project close on Sunday night at midnight, CST (-6 GMT), Feb. 7. Then send me an email with the link (so I don’t miss it). I’ll collect them all and post them right here at the Zone on Monday, Feb. 8.

It’s a great way to have some fun, gain a few links, discover other writers both new and old (hey, who you callin’ old?), and maybe even learn a thing or two. Plus, you get to join the hundreds of entries already submitted for past WILF projects!

Please give some serious thought to joining us, won’t you?

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Not too long ago, Mrs. MZM and I decided to get out and enjoy the unusually pleasant Fall weather. (I use the word “unusual” because here in the Houston area, we typically have only two seasons: eleven sultry months of Summer followed by a month or so of cold, wet, yucky Winter.)

This particular day, though, was bright and clear, perhaps mid-80’s or so, with a nice, gentle breeze. It was perfect for taking time off to smell the flowers, if you get my meanin’. So we decided to go to a nearby park and see what there was to see.

This particular park happened to be built along a canal that wandered along for about a mile or so. After a few minutes, we decided to follow the sidewalk along the water. I’m tellin’ ya; it was a beautiful day, I had my Honey on my arm, and there was nowhere else I had to be. I mean, how perfect was that?

As we strolled along the waterway, enjoying the gentle warm sunshine, the delicious smell of pine trees, and the silly antics of an occasional duck or goose, I happened to glance down at the water at my feet. It was a surprising sight, to say the least: dozens of these tiny little fish were following us!

It seemed pretty funny, you know? I mean, it’s not like it was a school of piranha or anything. They’re just little fish, lookin’ for a handout. I imagine a fair percentage of folks who walk along this canal toss breadcrumbs or whatever into the water on a regular basis. So to them, any motion along the edges of their long, watery world spelled opportunity.

Unfortunately for them, though, we had nothing to give, so we just walked on. I’ll tell’ ya; I gotta give those little guys credit for persistence! They must’ve followed us for at least twenty minutes before finally giving up and heading for greener, uh, waters.

It reminded me, though, of the fact that while there’s opportunity all around us, sometimes it takes persistence to reap the benefits, y’know? (Not that it paid off for them that day, mind you, but they at least went with the odds.) So let’s take a lesson from my fine fishy friends (and I’m speakin’ to myself as well):

Keep on pluggin’ away, ‘cause persistence can make all the difference!

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Experience, though, has taught me that, generally speaking, there’s at least one thing more you’re probably gonna need: patience!

All Dressed Up and Nowhere to Go

Our return from Brazil was an exercise in mechanics. We packed up our suitcases, checked out of our hotel, ate a great breakfast, and loaded up the bus. It was time once again to head to the airport and board that big silver bird.

We were nearly the first to arrive at the terminal that morning, and so we very nearly had the entire ticketing area to ourselves. Checking in was the usual semi-controlled chaos; in spite of that it went relatively smoothly. Eventually we finally made it past ticketing and baggage check and headed for the boarding area and gate number 5.

As I approached, though, there was just one little problem. I looked out the window and – there was no plane!

My brain did a quick mental reboot as I considered the various and sundry ramifications of the situation. I mean, we’d done everything we were supposed to do, right? Tickets, luggage, boarding passes – check, check, check. It’s just that, without a plane it was all just an exercise, y’know? Sorta like a fire drill.

It’s All in the Timing

‘Course, once the initial surprise passed, I realized it wasn’t really a problem. We were just a little early, that’s all, and the plane simply hadn’t arrived yet. Still… until I saw our winged chariot waiting there for us, there was always that little niggling concern scratching away at the ol’ subconscious. What if it’s not coming? What if it’s late? What if – well, the list of worries could go on and on, couldn’t it?

The issue, you see, was in the timing. We’d done everything we were supposed to do. But now – ah, now it was out of our hands. The only thing we needed now was a little patience.

Not a bad lesson for life, wouldn’t you say? Sometimes we get so involved in getting things done we forget that not everything is under our direct control, y’know? You might as well face it: there’s times you simply have to wait for that thing you expect to happen… to happen.

The lesson, of course, is simple – have a little patience, friends! Do what you gotta do – but don’t forget to bring along that big ol’ bucket o’ patience. Chances are, you’re gonna need it.

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As most of you know, it is indeed possible to find treasure in the most unexpected places. Especially when you’re willing to take the time to really look.

One Man’s Trash

Quite a few years ago Mrs. MZM and I temporarily moved to Kalamazoo, Michigan so I could take an engineering job in a chemical plant for a few months. Since we knew we’d be there only a short time (maybe 6 months? who knew?), we decided to keep the apartment furnishings to a minimum. I mean, why spend money we’d never get back, y’know?

Anyway, after moving in, we drove around town, just sorta getting’ the lay of the land, so to speak. Suddenly Mrs. MZM pointed off to the right and said, “Pull up over there!”. I immediately executed a tire-screeching Bat-Turn safe, totally legal and non-life-threatening u-turn to the indicated spot.

Right in front of us was a large dumpster. I looked at her in disbelief and thought to myself, surely she couldn’t mean–?

But I was wrong.

Years ago I knew a guy who rode a trash collection truck to earn money for college. He used to regale us with tales of the many treasures he found every day – bowling balls, stacks of records (you remember vinyl LP records, don’t you?), perfectly good clothes of all sorts – you name it. I was always amazed at what folks will throw away, y’know?

Well, memories of that fellow came back to me now as I realized Mrs. MZM wanted me to take a look at something in that dumpster. Now, had I still been a kid, I’d have no problem, y’know? But hey, I’m an adult now! Adults don’t do this sort of thing! (Besides, it was probably filled with all manner of icky stuff, not to mention little creepy crawly critters, to boot!)

All this and more scampered briefly through my brain as I climbed out of the car and approached the rusty metal behemoth. It was one of those enclosed types with a partially opened sliding door in its side. That’s where Mrs. MZM pointed. “There’s a lamp shade right there close to that opening. Just reach in and grab it – let’s see what it looks like.”

Poised to make a quick getaway (just in case a rat, a snake, or y’know, a slime-covered tentacle reached for me), I tremulously latched onto the aforementioned shade and gave an admittedly hesitant little pull. It didn’t budge. I tried again, a little bit harder this time, and felt it give a bit. Finally I took a deep breath, threw caution to the winds, and grabbed it with both hands. Exerting a mighty heave, I stumbled backwards with my hard-won prize and was rewarded with – an entire lamp!

Another Man’s Treasure

And wow, what a treasure! Well, it’s not that it turned out to be genuine Waterford crystal or anything, but it certainly was pretty. I was astonished somebody would throw away a perfectly good and serviceable lamp like that. (And yes, it worked perfectly!)

As I returned to the car with my loot, Mrs. MZM couldn’t help the lightly smug “I told you so” expression, and rightly so. Our little treasure turned out to be far better than either of us had expected.

Funny how that saying can be so true, isn’t it: One man’s trash is another man’s treasure. Over the years, I’ve encountered countless instances just like this of how a piece of junk turned into something wonderful. In fact, we have a perfectly good antique clock on our shelf to prove it. Sometimes you have to clean things up a bit – but sometimes not.

To tell you the truth, the only difference between an object’s being trash or treasure is not necessarily in where you find it. Nope; it’s in how you look at it. So it sorta begs the question, doesn’t it?

What surprising little treasures have you been missing because you haven’t taken the time to really look?

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I know, I know; the term baggage is almost always used in a emotionally negative way, isn’t it? I’ve heard it often enough; maybe even said the words myself once or twice.

But is baggage always bad?

The Baggage Handler

It’s an off-the-wall thought, I know, but one that hit me (sound of dull thud) while sitting on the tarmac in Rio de Janeiro. (Well actually, I was sitting in a plane on the tarmac, not actually on the tarmac. Oh, never mind.)

I idly passed the time watching a baggage handler toss our luggage one piece at a time onto that conveyor-thingie, its slowly moving belt feeding them into the plane’s storage compartment below us like offerings to a hungry beast. How many pieces did that guy toss in an average day? Hundreds? Thousands? Sheesh, my back started achin’ just thinkin’ about it; especially if they all weighed as much as mine did!

Anyhoo – like I said, getting rid of emotional baggage is generally considered to be a good thing, right? I mean, if you spend your days moping about “what might have been”, well, you can build up a heavy load for yourself in no time at all. And pretty soon your back is achin’ with the effort of carryin’ all that stuff around with you wherever you go.

That’s why the idea of a Fresh Start is so appealing. If you can just unload all those old regrets and “what if’s”, well life gets so much easier.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

On the other hand… is all baggage necessarily bad? Maybe not. In fact, definitely not. The fact is, you can always turn at least some of that emotional baggage into something valuable by learning something from it. Yep; don’t just throw it out like garbage – take the time to identify what happened, why it happened, and how you can profit from it. Maybe – just maybe – there’s some value in what you’ve been through. That’s the sort of baggage you’re gonna need for later.

After all, I can’t imagine taking even a short trip without an overnight bag containing at least a few necessary things, such as a toothbrush, shampoo, or maybe an extra pair of those unmentionable things we won’t mention. (Besides, these days they look at you suspiciously if you’re not carrying something. Signs of the times, I’m afraid.) Experience has taught me what to leave behind and what to bring every time. And all that stuff becomes part of my baggage – necessary baggage I can’t function without.

So next time you contemplate getting rid of some emotional baggage (and who doesn’t have at least one or two pieces?), make sure you don’t throw the baby out with the bath, if you get my meanin’. Go ahead and get rid of the stuff that needs to go, but take the time to analyze it first, so you can hang on for dear life to the stuff you’re gonna need.

And have a great trip!

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GEORGE: You know what the three most exciting sounds in the world are?

UNCLE BILLY: Uh-huh. Breakfast is served; lunch is served; dinner . . .

GEORGE: No, no, no, no! Anchor chains, plane motors, and train whistles.

– From It’s a Wonderful Life

I’ll tell ya; I gotta agree with ol’ George Bailey; there really are certain sounds that tweak my imagination and, yes, even my excitement, y’know?

It’s like last November on the return from my trip to Brazil. As the plane lined itself up on runway zero-six to launch us into the wild blue yonder (which I believe is the third blue yonder on the left), I couldn’t help but experience a remarkable dichotomy of feelings.

On the one hand, it was a kinda sad moment because it marked the close of a truly amazing experience – going to a small town in Brazil to help build a church. What’s more, not only was it something I’d never done before, but it was one of the most gratifying events of my life. And so I was understandably kinda sad as it was ending, if you follow me.

But on the other hand, it was good to be heading home. After 10 days away, it would be wonderful to be back in the sweet and tender arms of my lifelong love, the incredible Mrs. MZM. I’ll tell ya, because of my work, over the years we’ve had some times apart – some of ‘em long and some of ‘em short. But no matter how strange, or fun, or interesting the place turned out to be, it was always great to get back to the ol’ homestead and start life over again. It’s almost like a new beginning, in a way.

Funny how that runway could signify both things equally: a beginning and an ending. And come to think of it, it’s almost the same every time New Year’s Day rolls around, isn’t it? There you are at the moment, the cusp, the hinge between the old year and the new, sayin’ “so long” to all things past while simultaneously sayin’ “howdy” to the things to come.

Yep; a new beginning, a timely ending. That’s about the size of it, all right. Not that things from the past don’t carry over, mind you. It’s that sense of starting fresh, and new, and – well, it’s something we all like to celebrate, isn’t it? And rightly so, if you ask me.

So take a moment with me to wave your hat at the things accomplished and the things left behind, won’t you? After all, you can’t do anything about the past, now, can ya?

OK, now turn and put your best face forward, Bubba, ‘cause I’m tellin’ ya; judgin’ from the way the last year went, I think we’re in for one heckuva ride!

YEEHAW!

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– Likely epitaph for Robert Hruzek

(hopefully a long time from now!)

OK, for those of you who’ve spent any time at all here at the Zone, that statement above will come as no surprise whatsoever. The trouble, though, is that knowin’ that little datum doesn’t always prevent me from, well, saying stuff anyway.

See, the thing is, what with this brand spankin’ new year and all, I really racked the ol’ brain to come up with a post that would sorta capture the essence, the nub of the gist, the je ne se quois for 2010. (In case you don’t know, je ne se quois is French for “duh”.) And finally it hit me (sound of dull thud) – this year, it’s gonna be all about words.

Therefore, I’m declaring the year 2010 to be the Year of the Words. An attorney friend of mine keeps reminding me, “words are important” (a heckuva understatement if there ever was one), so this first post of the year is going to be all about, well, carefully considering everything you say.

And trust me; this is experience talkin’.

Breakfast at Tiffany’s Summer Camp

Never was the importance of thinking about your words more true than one time back in 1978, when I was a counselor at a children’s summer camp deep in the woods of East Texas, smack in the middle of Huntsville State Park.

The way this camp worked, see, is parents would drop off their kids each Sunday afternoon (about 125 or so boys and girls, aged 8-12), then pick ‘em up again the following Saturday morning. Then this process was repeated with a different set of families for seven weeks in a row.

So far as I know, we always had the same number of pickups as drop-offs, so I guess in the large scheme of things you would consider our efforts a success. Still, every week produced its own set of unusual “situations” that had to be dealt with, plus a few challenges that spanned the entire summer.

One of those “all summer long” challenges, for instance, centered around breakfast, of all things. See, every morning we trooped our campers into the dining hall for their morning supply of energy. With the full days we routinely planned for the kids, their energetic little bodies needed to be well loaded with fuel. And what a breakfast it was!

Every morning’s menu was different. One day it was a selection of cold cereals, milk (plain and chocolate), about a billion kinds of muffins, assorted juices, etc. Another day it was scrambled eggs, bacon and assorted toast (including my favorite: cinnamon raisin bread).

Best of all, the food was, like, amazingly good, too, and there was always plenty for all. No one ever left the breakfast table hungry, that’s for sure. I’ll tell ya; those sweet ladies who cooked for us every day really outdid themselves.

Except, that is, on Wednesdays. See, on Wednesdays we had (sound of terrified scream) oatmeal.

Wednesday’s Child is Full of Woe

Now, I just want to go on record as sayin’ I personally have nothing – nothing against a big ol’ steamin’ bowl of oatmeal! Especially when topped by a thick pat of rich butter, maybe a little brown sugar, and a handful of fresh blueberries. I’ll tell ya; that’s something that really hits the spot with little ol’ me!

The problem, as it turned out, was an incident that had happened several years before. See, the thing was… well, they sorta accidentally, um, burned the oatmeal. Oh, not so you could tell by lookin’ at it, mind you. But when tasted, you could tell it was definitely “off spec”, if you follow me.

I don’t know about you, friends, but if you’ve never had the, er, joy of slapping a spoonful of burned oatmeal onto your taste buds, well Bubba, you simply ain’t lived! It sorta brings to mind that horrible, acrid smell of popcorn that’s been overcooked and burned by a microwave oven. You know how that awful odor kinda lingers in the air… well, it ain’t something you’ll ever forget, that’s for sure.

Nothing Travels Faster Than a Rumor

The thing was, quite a few of these kids had attended camp year after year, with the inevitable result that word had gotten out about the infamous Day They Burned The Oatmeal. So by the time Wednesday rolled around, well, you can guess can’t ya? Yup; even though it had happened several years previously (and had never happened since) the very sight of a big ol’ bowl of oatmeal on the breakfast table was enough to cause every kid in the building to run screaming into the woods.

To be sure, we heroically tried everything to head it off at the pass, so to speak. The staff heaped our own bowls with gobs of oatmeal, loading ‘em up with as many tasty extras as we could find. We loudly proclaimed the virtues of the stuff. One guy tried lathering his with gummi bears, but alas, to no avail. We even tried contests and other incentives. Alas, it was all for naught. It seemed nothing could overcome the dire tales of disaster and woe already passed down to the younger children by The Grapevine.

I mean, it was bad enough the kids had blown this thing all out of whack. But the stories! By then they’d pretty much reached, well, epic proportions. “Whatever you do, don’t eat the oatmeal,” they’d say. “It’ll make you grow a third eye right in the middle of your forehead!” Or, “Don’t eat the oatmeal; you’ll never ever have children.” (That one was for the girls.) And then there was my personal favorite: “Don’t eat the oatmeal, it’ll turn you into a blood-sucking zombie!”

But even more serious, since there was always so much oatmeal left over, it caused the cooks to waste perfectly good food. (You’d think they would’ve taken the hint and prepared less – but I guess hope always springs eternal, y’know?) Leftover food was definitely not a good thing, though. As with any camp, money – and the wise use thereof – was always a primary issue.

Lightning Storms on the Brain

Finally, the Camp Director had had enough. Determined to resolve the situation once and for all, he called for a Council of War later that evening after all the kids had gone to bed and settled down for the night. We left our Assistants in charge of the various cabins and gathered in the dining hall with the Director and the cooks.

“OK, you all know the problem,” he began without preamble. “Let’s brainstorm some ideas on how to solve it.”

Within minutes, quite a few ideas had been proposed. The most popular was kinda obvious: serve something else. Unfortunately this simply wouldn’t do – for a couple of reasons. First of all, the food for the entire summer had already been purchased. There were no funds for an alternative breakfast; somehow they would just have to make do.

Another idea was disguise it with more toppings – more fruit; more sugar, M&M’s, snails, whatever. Unfortunately, that one wasn’t working too well. No amount of fruit could hide the fact that it was, y’know oatmeal, and too much sugar was, well, pretty unhealthy, to say the least. As for the M&M’s and snails… well, never mind.

After about 20 minutes, we managed to narrow it down to two possibilities: One was, call the kids’ homes and have their parents make the kids eat it. Unfortunately, there were too many parents to easily reach, and cell phones hadn’t yet been invented. So scratch that one as too impractical. Besides, we kinda wanted to handle this one internally, if you know what I mean.

The other idea was to find a way to stop those ridiculous stories. To which the following question then applies: Have you ever tried to stop a rumor?

Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures

Yep; that’s about the size of it. Here we were, the best and brightest of the entire camp organization (at least, we liked to think so), and this was the best we could do. Pretty sad, I’ll tell ya. Nevertheless, we all decided there might be some merit in that last suggestion, so we concentrated on it for a while.

As I heard idea after idea (not to mention some pretty profound silences), that’s when it began to happen – the apparent gravity of the situation seemed to give rise within me to say something silly, just to lighten the mood. Now please understand, this was serious; it was a genuine problem that needed a genuine solution, no mistake about it. But I just couldn’t help it – inside I was doing my best to stifle the ingrown chuckle that was steadily sneaking up on me. There we were, wrestling with the ramifications of serving oatmeal for breakfast. I mean, fer cryin’ out loud!

But I knew; if I were to say the thing that was desperately trying to break out into the light of day, it would not only ruin what little headway we’d made, but it might possibly irritate the Director or, even worse, the cooks. And believe me, the last thing I wanted to do was get them mad at me!

Still, it kept on building up inside me, ready to burst out into the open like a grape in a microwave. I squirmed and squiggled, got up and then sat down again, tried to count to 100 backwards, but alas, nothing helped. Finally, as everyone else was in the midst of trying to figure out ways to keep those stupid stories from spreading around, and I couldn’t stand it anymore and the following fateful words escaped my lips:

“Well, you could always threaten to glue their mouths shut with the oatmeal!”

I’m tellin’ ya; you could probably have dropped a live hand grenade – without the pin – in our midst with less effect. There was at least a full minute of shocked silence while everyone sorta looked up, then down, then pretty much everywhere except at me. The Director had a stunned look on his face, then quickly turned to look at the cooks to see what their reaction would be.

I think everyone sorta “braced for impact” as we awaited the Head Cook’s no-doubt righteously indignant reaction. And I distinctly remember thinkin’ to myself, “Self, we’re a long way from civilization; I wonder if they’ll ever find my body?”

Great Moments in History

For a moment, all she could do was stare at me with wide-eyed incredulous disbelief. Inwardly, I cringed, waiting for the boom to be lowered upon my unprotected head. But then… a miracle!

She suddenly put her head back and began laughing so loud, and so hard, she very nearly fell off the stool! You’ve heard of folks laughing with their entire body, right? Well, she did that, and before long every one of us was rolling on the floor with gales of laughter I’d swear (if my Momma hadn’t taught me not to) you could’ve heard in Dallas!

It was one of those genuinely memorable moments, y’know? We all laughed, tears in our eyes, for about 15 minutes until finally the Director raised his hands for silence. “You know what?” he told us. “I was reading in my Bible this morning from Proverbs, and I saw something that definitely applies here.” He opened his Bible up to chapter 11, verse 14 and read this verse: “Where there is no counsel, the people fall; but in the multitude of counselors there is safety.”

“I want to thank you for coming tonight to help us resolve this unusual and strangely thorny challenge we’re facing. Although I’m not sure we’ve quite solved it yet, it gives me great comfort to know that with the multitude of Counselors we have here tonight,” – and here he looked straight at me, and with a big smile, no less – “well, it’s good to know you guys are on the case!”

The Proof is in the Pudding Oatmeal

To tell you the truth, although I can’t remember if we ever did solve that “thorny little problem”, I look back on that event with a great deal of nostalgia. Besides, for the rest of that summer we were stuck with the oatmeal anyway, so what the hey, right? The cooks continued to serve oatmeal every Wednesday and, at least as far as I know, nobody turned into a zombie or grew another eye or anything.

That was the last summer I spent as a Counselor (no, I wasn’t barred from returning, smarty pants; I just got too busy after that), so I don’t know if they still serve oatmeal on occasion. My guess? Probably not. Sometimes ya just gotta bow to the inevitable, y’know?

But as I look back on that memory, I still can’t believe I said what I did. I mean, c’mon! What if those fine ladies who slaved over a hot stove all day to feed us incredible food had been angry instead of tickled by what I’d said? What if the Director hadn’t been the kind-hearted understanding fellow he was? What if my careless words had hurt some feelings? It was a risky thing I’d done, and to tell you the truth, I hadn’t really thought it through.

Still, I like to think I’ve matured a bit since that day, y’know? After all, not every situation can be rescued with laughter – nor is it appropriate to do so. Oh, with enough time and distance humor may come to the fore anyway. But that’s not always the case as a given situation is happening.

I admit it; I was pretty lucky that day. If the other folks hadn’t been who they were, things might have turned out very differently. Come to think of it, they might not have ever found my body! My name would have become the stuff of legends, whispered around campfires as yours truly, The Wandering Dutchman of Summer Camp, would still be wandering around that lonely, isolated camp on damp misty nights, forever doomed to search for that elusive perfect bowl of oatmeal…

Anyhoo, this story and thought seemed like an appropriate one with which to begin this brand shiny new year, y’know? The lesson is this: Be aware of your words! After all, if you can’t learn that, you just might not make it to next year, if you get my meanin’! I’m just sayin’.

Happy New Year, y’all!

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Welcome to the final post here at Middle Zone Musings for the year 2009 – and what a year it was, I’ll tell ya! Thrills, chills, spills – and that was just at my house! Heaven only knows what happened at yours!

And hey, who knows what amazing things are in store for us next year?

I want to thank all the wonderful folks who have participated, commented, or simply dropped by the Middle Zone this year. A big ol’ tip o’ the hat to ya, and thank you from the bottom of my ol’ Texas heart!

Well, here’s the final results from this year’s annual What I Learned From 2009 groupwrite project. We had only 14 entries this time, admittedly a far cry from the 138 entries y’all contributed in last year’s Blogapalooza. But that’s just okey-dokey with me; I’m just honored y’all chose to squeak some time out of your holidays to participate. Really!

I asked y’all to write a post at your own blogs, listing your best, or favorite, or most outrageous (or whatever) posts of the year 2009, then send me the link to your round-up post. So here’s the list of entries, in no particular order. Do yourself a favor and check ‘em all out, y’all; there’s some great writers here:

• The Best of BeAllergyWise Blog for 2009, by Monique Attinger at BeAllergyWise
• The Best of BeAllergyWise News for 2009, by Monique Attinger at BeAllergyWise
• My Most Conversational Posts of 2009, by Brad Shorr at Word Sell
• Old and New Tricks and Issues – What I’ve Learned From 2009, by Alina Popescu at Words of a Broken Mirror
• A Year’s Worth of Posts, by Geoffrey Philp at Geoffrey Philp’s Blogspot
• The Best of Brawise, by Monique Attinger at Brawise
• Favorite Posts of 2009, by Meryl Evans at Meryl.net
• My Essential Lines from 2009, by Joanna Young at Confident Writing
• The Reward of Finding…, by Nancy Kourmoulis at Treasures of Darkness
• What I Learned From… 2009, by Lillie Ammann at A Writer’s Words, an Editor’s Eye
• Picturing My Way Home, by Joanna Young at Joyful Jubilant Learning
• What I Learned from 2009, by Karen Hanrahan at Best of Mother Earth
• 2009 Life’s Lessons Learned, by Sheila Glazov at Sheila Glazov

And of course, there’s my own entry. It was a mite harder than usual selection the criteria for this WILF. But after much anguished soul-searching, I hit upon this gem of a topic: My “least linked to” posts of 2009 My Most Profound Lessons Learned from 2009:

• A Prolific Profusion of Profound Profundity. Or Something. by Robert Hruzek at Middle Zone Musings

Now, y’all have a happy and safe finish to the year 2009, and as always, a big ol’ tip o’ the hat to ya!

See ya next year! Yeehaw!

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If I had to pick what I would consider to be my “essential” post from 2009, well, it would have to be my very favorite post of the year:

The Day I Went Flying

It’s a story from ‘way back when I was a mere child, a day that will genuinely live in infamy (at least in my memory banks, anyway). I’m tellin’ ya; there’s chills, thrills – and luckily, no spills! After all, when you’re faced with what amounts to a genuine, bona-fide Life Choice (and one of the more desirable alternatives is, “Be killed by a falling meteor”), well, you know you’d better get it right the first time.

What’s So Special It?

So why did I choose that particular post, you ask? Well, it’s like this.

This story, of all the ones told in 2009, epitomizes pretty much the whole spirit of the Middle Zone. After all, it’s about “lessons learned from life”, right? Well, combine that theme with storytelling – something else I love to do (and am fairly good at, if I do say so myself) – and to me, that’s what makes it a winner.

But what makes this one stand out above many other stories from 2009, though, is really pretty simple. It’s because it perfectly epitomizes how I do things here in the Middle Zone, which are, to wit:

• Get your attention and keep it (story-telling is a proven method)
• Make you laugh (or at the very least generate an ingrown chuckle or two)
• Teach you something (the benefit of bein’ here in the first place)

Now, in my humble opinion, this particular story does all three of those very well, if’n I do say so myself (and I think I just did!)

The Money Quote

Here’s what I consider the main thought, though; the nub of the gist, if you will:

These days, folks all over are facing things they’ve never had to face before. It’s like they’re tearing along in one direction, then – maybe even through no plan or fault of their own – they suddenly changed direction and found themselves launched headlong into space!

Does that sound like you? I’ll tell ya; I’ve been there more times than I can count. Well, don’t feel like the Lone Stranger! More and more of us are feelin’ exactly like that.

All I can say is, I hope you never have the same experience I had that fateful day. But if you do, then Bubba, get ready for the ride of your life! And take heart – you can survive it!

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There’s something really special about the promise of a gift, isn’t there?  Especially when it’s something you’ve really been looking forward to. You know what I mean, right? The comforting assurance, the delicious anticipation… and then finally getting that (fill in the blank here) you’ve been waiting for.

But… what if that “getting” part is delayed a bit? There’s nothing so agonizing, is there, as that wait for something you know you’re going to get – but haven’t yet.

All I Wanted For Christmas

Back when I was a little kid there was a certain Christmas gift (a race-car set) I’d had my eye on. You remember what that’s like, right? Starting somewhere around, oh, mid-July, I casually mentioned it to my parents to make sure they knew exactly what I wanted. At least, er, 294 times a week.

Plus, practically once a week (OK, twice… or maybe three or four times) I made sure Mom or Dad found the toy catalog lying around the house, “accidentally” fallen open to the exact page detailing the object of my desire (and conveniently circled, of course). I’m tellin’ ya, when it came to covering all the bases, I left no stone unturned! I even arranged for a friend to mention, in their presence, how they were sure they were getting’ something similar.

I’m tellin’ ya; I was devious smart, I was!

A Promise Was a Promise

Finally, the impromptu marketing campaign bore fruit: my Mom, after enduring probably the umpteenth millionth carefully-arranged “hint”, finally broke down and said two words I’d been waiting to hear: “We’ll see.” I was ecstatic!

Now, you may be thinkin’ to yourself, but that didn’t sound all that reassuring, am I right? But when it came to official pronouncements from my parents, I knew from experience that “We’ll see” was code for “You got it!” My spirits lifted to stratospheric heights.

For the rest of the year, I made sure nothing happened to mess up my chances. I scrupulously performed all my chores (that’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it), ate all my vegetables (well, everything except the broccoli; no force on earth could make me do that), and made sure our cat and dog were clean, brushed, well-fed and had shiny teeth and fresh, minty breath. I’m tellin’ ya; I was the picture of a truly deserving fellow! And besides – a promise was a promise, right?

Was It Something I Did – or Didn’t Do?

The fateful Day crept closer and closer with all the swiftness of a runaway snail (you know how it always seems to take forever when you’re a kid), and once the Christmas tree was up I kept an eye out for one particular box. The days slipped by, but alas, it didn’t show.

Doubt crept in. Where was it? I wondered. Had my parents NOT bought it for me? Were they sold out? Or horror of horrors, had there been a strike at the plant and they no longer made ‘em? (It’s amazing what an overactive imagination can come up with, isn’t it?)

Christmas Eve arrived, and still – no box. I was crushed. And, although I did my best to hide it, that night as we opened our brightly-wrapped gifts, I have to admit to a sense of disappointment as my race-car set wasn’t there. I mean after all, they promised!

I know, I know; I should have been grateful for the gifts I did get. And don’t get me wrong; I was! After all, I had parents who loved me, actual gifts to call my own – I mean, by anyone’s measure I was truly rich! But still… as a kid, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was something I’d done, or forgotten to do. I remember thinking, Maybe I hadn’t been good enough.

One Last Gift

Later, after all the gifts had been opened, I put on my best face and thanked everyone for the gifts I did get. I had just given my parents a hug and was heading for bed when my Dad suddenly sat up and pointed over to a corner of the room, an innocent expression on his face. “Hey, what’s that over there?”

I turned and looked and, to my astonishment, there was a box in the corner that hadn’t been there before! (I know now my Dad sneaked it in while I wasn’t looking, but at the time, it was as if it had appeared by magic.) My little eyes got about as big as saucers as I disbelievingly stumbled over and picked it up. Sure enough; it was just what I’d wanted – the race-car set! To say my little heart was thrilled is a complete understatement.

In moments I forgot all those nagging self-doubts as I gleefully hugged my Mom and Dad, thanking them profusely for the one thing I’d wanted – and in the process, finding out that the shape of the world was, indeed, right.

The Best Gift of All

You know, when I read the Christmas story in the Bible (it’s in the book of Luke, chapters 1 and 2 if you’d like to read it for yourself), I often wonder if that’s just a tiny little bit how the Jews must have felt. I mean, over the course of thousands of years, they clung to a promise: the promise of a Savior, the Messiah. The promise had been given by God himself, sometimes directly, and sometimes through His prophets. And after all, a promise from God, well, that’s something you can pretty much take to the bank, right?

But as year after year passed by, they found themselves ending every year with a sigh and the same sad thought: Is Messiah here yet? No? Well, maybe next year…

The thing is, it’s so easy to forget one tiny little detail: in God’s eyes, timing is everything. The prophets, even as they joyfully proclaimed God’s promise to His people, understood that certain events had to fall into place first. But still, what seemed like a long delay caused even the most faithful of God’s chosen to wonder if, maybe, just maybe – they hadn’t been faithful enough.

And then one day a simple priest named Zacharias was given a remarkable message while serving in the Temple – his aged wife was having a son! And not just any son – but the forerunner of the Messiah! Not long afterwards, the angel Gabriel appeared to Mary and joyfully announced she would give birth to that very Messiah! At long last, the promise was being fulfilled: the promise and the Gift of God – the Messiah – was actually here!

Do you think his doubts, his fears and his worries about God’s promises quickly vanished –quickly replaced by complete and utter joy? I’d have to say… yes!

The Promise and the Gift

That all happened nearly 2,000 years ago, and the world has never been the same, y’know?

There’s still more promises waitin’, aren’t there? Especially my favorite one: His promise to return. Oh, I know; year after year passes, and I find myself saying, like the Jews did every year, “Maybe next year…” But I’m reminded of how Zacharias must have felt. His great hope, long delayed – well, it was discouraging, sure. But his hope wasn’t founded on just any promise – it was the promise of God Himself.

So next time you think about God’s promises, and how they may seem, at least to you, a bit delayed – try to imagine the joy that’s coming when His promise is finally fulfilled. I’ll tell ya; it’s gonna to be one spectacular party!

Have a wonderful and blessed Christmas, y’all!

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