Howdy, y’all, and a big ol’ tip o’ the Monday hat to ya!

Hey, around these parts Spring has pretty much sprung out all over, so to help celebrate that blessed event, I thought I’d share a bit of poetry I’ve had brewin’ for awhile now. It was sorta inspired by this photo of the seed pods from a sycamore tree in a local park. It happened to spark some great memories of summers as a child long ago, and, well, tell me what you think:

Spikey Balls

Memories of my childhood in a less-than-wealthy place;
Simple joys and happiness, and sunshine on my face.

Jumping into piles of leaves, exploring secret woods,
Searching creeks for giant frogs (I’d catch ‘em if I could!)

Together with my faithful friend, ol’ General Joe McLong,
(He was a weiner dog, you know) my bond with him was strong.

The two of us could romp and play with free and wild abandon,
Bare-footing it through grassy knolls with nothing sharp to land on.

Except –

There was this one big sycamore, with leaves of yellow-green,
I’d climb it to the highest heights to see what could be seen.

All summer long its branches filled with green and patient fruit,
No problem while still up there, but when fallen, more acute.

Over time, though, they transmogrified into these spiky balls
And then fell in such great numbers it resembled Nightmare Falls.

They laid in wait to prick my toes once fallen to the ground,
Oh, how I hated spiky balls wherever they were found!

Still, to this day I find myself remembering those times,
Of spiky balls and General Joe and silly little rhymes!

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Hey, I’d appreciate it if you’d tell me what you think! Just leave a comment in the box down there, won’t you? I’d kinda like to try this a little more often, so you never know, y’know?

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[Note from the Proprietor: This post is an entry for this month’s Middle Zone groupwrite project, What I Learned From Colorful Characters. It’s open for entries until March 7, 2010 and you’re invited to participate – just follow that cute little link and read all about it.]

Over the years, I’ve met my share of colorful characters; I bet you have, too. Despite that, I’m surprised to say can’t really pinpoint exactly what it is that earns someone the description of “colorful”.

I know, I know; chances are you’d agree with me there’s no shortage of folks who are different. But is different the same as colorful? Not necessarily; I’ve run across plenty of folks who are different – yet I no longer remember them.

Maybe the word unusual is a better qualifier. Well, maybe. Whatever the quality is that makes someone colorful in my mind, of all the folks I’ve ever met, ol’ Hollis has to be one of the ones with the mostest.

Just Call Me Bubba

Now, Hollis was what we down here in Texas call a Bubba (also known as a “good ol’ boy”): friendly, big-hearted and generally easy-going – and I’ll tell ya; he sure fit the bill!

Hollis was one of four of us back in college who roomed together during the semester I decided to live off campus (this was back in the early ‘70’s). And if you think the name “Hollis” says volumes about him, well, you’d be right. I mean, this guy was a walkin’ stereotype!

His parents owned a “nice spread” (otherwise known as a ranch to us city slickers) in central Texas. Oh, it wasn’t as big as the King Ranch (which at 1,289 mi² is larger than the U.S. state of Rhode Island), but at least it was “comfortable”. (Maybe just the size of Long Island? Er, never mind.)

I always suspected his chosen course of study – range management – had more to do with his parents wishes than his own (I mean, would he have chosen it if they didn’t already own the ranch? Well, maybe.) But one thing I can say with complete confidence – it certainly suited him.

I can still picture as if it were yesterday, that first fateful day I asked Hollis just what in tarnation range management was. He adjusted his big ten-gallon hat, spread his feet apart to get a firm stance, and made fists of his big, ham-sized hands. Then he put ‘em on his hips, stared off at the distant horizon and boomed out, “All right you ranges out there! I want you to form a line for me! Hey – straighten up, you!” (You think I’m kidding? Hey, if you’re readin’ this, Hollis, back me up, won’t you?)

When he went out he wore that hat (seriously – a huge, somewhat worse-for-wear white one), and in more ways than one, reminded me a lot of Hoss Cartright from that old western, Bonanza. He drove a typical student’s car, an old land-yacht-sized rattletrap named, of all things, Maybelline (or maybe it was The Deathmobile; I forget).

Memorable in More Ways Than One

In fact, there were a lot of things about Hollis that were really pretty memorable. (I mean, besides the hat.) For instance…

Every other weekend he went home to visit the folks (and, of course, do what every other student did: get his laundry done). And every Sunday upon returning he’d go through the exact same ritual: walk in the door carrying two bags of groceries and gently set ‘em on the kitchen counter. Then open the cabinet doors over the sink, reach into one of the grocery bags and pull out the two cans of Spam his mom had thoughtfully packed. Put them up in the cabinet (along with the 123 other cans from previous trips home) and shut the door. Then and only then, he’d paste that goofy grin on his face, turn around and ask in all seriousness, “OK, guys, anybody for pizza?” (By the way, if you’re hungry, as far as I know those cans of spam are probably still there. They should be nicely, er, aged by now.)

Then there was the time I brought home a refurbished pay phone and hung it in the kitchen (this was back in the days when you had to buy your own phone from the then-still-a-monopoly phone company). We convinced Hollis he had to put a dime in it to make calls, and it was two weeks before he finally figured out we were kidding! (On the plus side, I did make $3.90 those two weeks. But I digress.)

Trust me; I could go on…

What I Learned From Hollis

Yep; ol’ Hollis was sure a colorful character. But one thing he taught me was that it was truly OK to be a colorful character. I mean sure, most of us know that’s true – and I know that now – but back then I was just a poor Freshman college kid with no idea who I truly was.

See,  all through grade school and high school, I saw other kids around me who were popular, witty, charming, and – dare I say it? – extremely cool. What’s worse, they all seemed to have a level of self-confidence I simply couldn’t match. No matter how I tried, I always ended up geeky, insecure, and just plain scared.

The problem was, I took that attitude with me to college, and unfortunately forsaw nothing that would change anything ahead, I’ll tell ya. And that’s when I met Hollis.

Hollis was… well, different. And not a bad different, he was… well, like a breath of fresh air (or maybe more like a smack in the face with a dead fish). He was loud, brash, a little crazy, and he had no problem bein’ someone who was smirked at by other folks – either behind his back or even to his face – he just flat-out didn’t care.

Yep; in ol’ Hollis, I saw someone who had something I’d always wanted: he was happy with who he was. And I had to admire that, y’know? It was quite the revelation, I’ll tell ya.

So, Did It ‘Take’?

By now you’re probably askin’ the question, Did the lesson ‘take’? Did I finally overcome my truckload of self-conscious mumblings and assert my rightful place in the universe? Did my fellow students point in awe at my overwhelming new-found Coolness as I walked by? Did women, from that moment onward, swoon whenever I entered the room?

Well… no. (In fact, I only know of one woman who ever swooned when I came into the room, and that was because I’d accidentally stepped on a skunk on my way in the door. But that, as they say, is a frog of a different hop.)

Actually, it took me a few further years to finally come to terms with who I was. Or at least, who I was beginning to become, anyway. To tell you the truth, I’m still on that particular journey, so there’s really no tellin’ how it’s gonna end up. One thing I can tell you – the trip’s been a blast so far, I’ll tell ya!

Anyhoo – I just want to send a big ol’ tip o’ the hat to my friend Hollis! Hey, thanks for bein’ you, Bubba, and I hope all those ranges finally lined up for ya!

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Photo credits, top left to bottom right:
1. Colorful Character, 2. Beggars on Stockton Ferry, 3. Colorful characters, 4. colorful characters, 5. It’s good to be the King!, 6. Colourful character, 7. Send in the Clown, 8. No Clowning Around., 9. Four colorful characters

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[Note from the Proprietor: This post is an entry for this month’s Middle Zone groupwrite project, What I Learned From Colorful Characters. It’s open for entries until March 7, 2010 and you’re invited to participate – just follow that cute little link and read all about it.]

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

– Chinese philosopher Lao-tzu

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

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

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

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

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

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

Take the First Step

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

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

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I was sitting in the lobby of our local car repair place the other day, thinking gloomy thoughts. I know, I know; you usually think of yours truly as a handsome, happy-go-lucky, always cheerful fellow with a big hat and a bigger heart. [Note from the Proprietor: If you happen to think differently, please don’t disillusion me! Oh, and Mrs. MZM had me throw in the “handsome” part. Honest.]

Anyhoo – to those of you who have never opened up the hood of a car – I salute you! I’ll tell ya, I’d just as soon never have to do it myself. To be perfectly honest, what’s under there… well, it sorta scares me.

Oh, I know; that admission may jeopardize my lifetime membership to the Manly Men’s Association if it ever gets out. But I’ll freely admit that when it comes to cars I’m pretty much clueless.

It wasn’t always this way. Once upon a time (sounds like the beginning of a fairy tale, doesn’t it?) I was completely unafraid to tinker with my own car. Alas, those days are quickly receding like my, er, hairline (*sigh*). These days, when I open the hood I get absolutely intimidated by the incomprehensible mishmash of hardware, gizmos and spaghetti-like wiring that greets the eye. And all of it covered by a thick greasy layer of gray-black grime that would give even the redoubtable Mr. Clean heart palpitations. Ick.

Nevertheless, the sad, inevitable truth is, if you own a car, then sooner or later, you’re gonna have to fix something. This time it wasn’t anything major, just the battery. The old one wasn’t puttin’ out the power it used to, and it was only a matter of time before we got in the car, turned the key, and got – nuthin’. (Trust me, I’ve been there and there’s no experience quite like it.)

Needless to say, once the new battery was installed, our car was good as new again. (Well, as good as an 11-year old car can be. I’m a firm believer in driving a car until she drops.) But I realized that getting a tired battery isn’t just something that happens to cars. Nope; it happens to people, too.

Time for Something New?

Yep; it’s not all that unusual for us to experience something similar. Given enough time, you’ll probably experience a time when it seems as though you just don’t have all the emotional energy you need to face life as usual. I know I have. Sometimes the constant battle with getting things done can take such a toll that there comes a moment when you might suddenly look up and think, “Enough!”

Hey, don’t feel like the Lone Stranger, my friends; it happens to a lot of us. So what to do? Well, here’s three ideas I’ve tried in the past.

Take a Break. These days the pace of life seems to be getting faster and faster with no end in sight. It’s so easy to ignore the need for rest now and then. There’s nothing wrong with taking some time off, you know. I mean, the universe isn’t going to come to a screeching halt without you, you know. Hey, here’s a radical idea: try not working every day and taking at least one day a week off. (God Himself prescribed exactly that when He created Life, the Universe, and Everything, so just on that basis alone it ought to be something worth taking seriously, don’cha think?) But you’ll find, as I have, that regular periods of rest can actually make you more productive than if you never took the time.

Switch Tracks for a While. Sometimes when you find yourself completely overwhelmed with whatever’s, uh, whelming you, the best thing you can do is what I call “change the game”. I mean, take a little time to do a totally different task for a while. What happens, see, is you get so caught up in whatever it is you’re doing your mind begins to narrow its focus until that’s all you can see. It’s sorta like running a 400-yard dash. Because of your focus, the only thing you see is the lane you’re in and the finish line; everything else becomes a gray blur. Doing something different, though, will help your brain regain its normal equilibrium and even enable you to think more clearly.

Do Something Different. Maybe, in the immortal words of the Monty Python gang, it’s time for something completely different. And I’m not talkin’ about just for a short while. Nope, I mean maybe your life would be a lot more fulfilling if you were doing something, y’know, else. It’s happened to quite a few folks over the years, including yours truly: starting out in life going in one direction, only to find it just doesn’t satisfy them like they thought it would. The fact is, more and more folks do it all the time. And, there’s no need to feel like you’re doing something no one has ever done before, either, so at least you’ll have plenty of company.

OK, those are just three ideas. What about you? What else would you suggest for someone whose battery has been running dangerously low? Share your advice down there in the comment box and maybe you’ll be helping someone else who’s facing the same challenge right now.

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I was driving in our neighborhood the other day when I passed this poor excuse for a tree in a nearby empty lot.

Over the last three years, I’ve seen this thing gradually reduced from a somewhat taller and more, er, robust version of itself – to this. Pretty pathetic, ain’t it?

Every time we get a strong wind, I’m convinced I’ll drive by and see it has given up the ghost and finally assumed the horizontal position. When Hurricane Ike bulldozed through Houston over a year ago, I really thought that would be the final blow, so to speak. Yet every time I’m surprised to find it holding on just a little bit longer.

Oh, sure, it might be a little smaller, perhaps a little, er, less vigorous than is used to be (which may be considered the understatement of the century), but this amazing tree has managed to persevere no matter what’s been thrown at it. But no – this fellah is still hangin’ in there.

But more than that – it’s still growing! You can see a small clump of leaves there on what remains of the only branch left. What’s more, there’s even a few new saplings growing upward from the base of the trunk, too.

I’ll tell ya what, folks, if there ain’t a powerful lesson here, I’ll… well, I’ll eat my hat!

So I guess the million-dollar questions you have to ask yourself today are: What’s been knockin’ ya down, lately? And, what’s your response gonna be?

Next time you’re tempted to give up, just remember this tree. (And yes, I’m talkin’ to me, too.)

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I don’t know about you, but chances are fair to middlin’ at least some folks developed at least one or two false impressions about you (or your business) at some time in your life, right? Hey, it happens. Sometimes folks just flat out misunderstand what you said – or meant – or did – and the lines of communication get all snarled up like a fishing reel that’s gone haywire.

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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Ever had the feeling you were bein’ followed? It’s kinda spooky, ain’t it?

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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