“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…”

- opening line of “A Tale of Two Cities”, by Charles Dickens

Well, it ain’t exactly Dickens, but please allow me to share with you the following tale of two corridors…

Corridor #1

I was moseying down (that’s “walking”, for y’all non-Texans in the audience) a fairly long hallway at my workplace the other day (see the photo on the right) when I noticed an interesting phenomenuh an interesting phenominom something unusual.

As I gradually approached the double doors at the end of the corridor (it’s that small black square waaay down there), it almost seemed as though, instead of getting closer, the hallway was growing longer. An optical illusion, to be sure, but still a bit disconcerting. Only as I finally neared the end did everything sorta go back to normal again. (Of course, “normal” in my world is a relative term – but that’s an entirely different skillet o’ catfish.)

Needless to say, it was an odd little bit of perspective shift – almost claustrophobic, if you know what I mean. Strange.

Corridor #2

Another day, another corridor, this one on the way to the company cafeteria…

Not surprisingly, there was a distinctly different feel to this one. Unlike that other weird, Twilight-Zone-esque corridor, this one engendered no odd sense of eternity stretching out before me. This time it was just a pleasant walk. (Of course, the prospect of, y’know, food at the end may have had something to do with it. Just sayin’.)

So what was the difference?

Well, obviously one big difference is the fact that the second corridor is lined with windows, right? Not only does the outside view make the corridor “feel” bigger, but the scenery is a lot more interesting.

Also, I think the vertical window frames serve as a sortof, well, let’s call it a “progress meter” (at least to the subconscious mind, anyway), silently ticking the moments by as I made my way down its length (the two corridors are pretty much the same length. Unlike the first corridor, which seems like a gray, almost unbroken tunnel, this one is light and cheery with, as I mentioned before, something delicious at the end of it.

So What?

By now you’re probably wonderin’ to yourselves just what the heck this all has to do with the price of a side o’ beef in, say, Timbuktu. Well, I guess the best answer is, “Not much.” On the other hand, though, thinkin’ of these two corridors did make me reflect a bit on life, the universe, and… well, you get the picture, right?

If your life is anything like mine, you’ve surely experienced a period of waiting at some time or another. Yep; thought so. Sometimes it feels almost like life is a nothing but a never-ending series of momentary events, preceded by periods of restless waiting, doesn’t it?

Take job-hunting, for instance (please!) I’ve done my share of it, and every time it’s the same thing: work like mad to generate job leads, send a stream of resumes out to even the remotest of possibilities, and no matter what, leave no stone unturned in that quest for employment.

The biggest problem with this sort of thing is, it’s really hard to tell if you’re getting anywhere! Kinda like moseyin’ down that first corridor, y’know? Trust me, I know; most folks have been there too. You’re walkin’, walkin’, and still walkin’ – but you can’t tell if you’re makin’ any headway. In fact, it may even seem like you’re losing ground.

Conversely, other times the job hunt has progressed relatively steadily. From initial contact to the resume submittal, then on to that first interview, negotiation and then – employment! (sound of crowd cheering) Yeah, I’ve had that one happen, too, and when it does it’s more like that second corridor, the one with the windows, the view, and the reward at the end.

Strange how life seems to imitate art corridors, isn’t it? But still, I find it’s not the waiting that gets me down. It’s the fact that I can’t see if things are progressing. (And it’s not just that they’re not progressing as I want them too; it’s that they don’t seem to be progressing at all.)

Sad to say, most waiting periods are like that. You get no sense of what’s happening outside of your own personal world – of the things going on behind the scenes. Whereas, if you can actually see things progressing, get some feedback from the outside world – well, it makes the passing of time and the waiting a whole lot easier, don’t you think?

What to Do?

Anyhoo – I brought all this up to offer an encouraging word or two, should you happen to actually be in a waiting period right now (uh, is anyone not?)

First of all, suffice it to say I know exactly how you feel, and it ain’t no fun, I can tell ya. The good news is, there are some things you can do to help alleviate that stretched-out eternity feeling.

Don’t shut your spouse out. OK, obviously, if you’re not married then this one won’t apply to you. But if you are, then you have a built-in support mechanism from someone who once said they’d be there for you through thick and thin. It never ceases to amaze me how many folks (sadly, we men are especially guilty of this one) would rather try and “work things out” for ourselves. It stems from a feeling that by admitting we’re troubled we’ll appear weak or something. Hey, I’ve been there; I know. All I can say is, if you’re blessed with a spouse who loves you, then share your life with ‘em – all of it. Trust me when I tell you it can be truly rewarding!

Keep in touch  with your friends. I’ve noticed it over the years, and I bet you have too: having a friend to talk to makes time pass a whole lot faster than if you’re spending it all alone. Especially if you’re spending your time alone thinkin’ oh, woe is me! (Been there!) If you’re in the waiting room, find a friend to spend some time with. If you don’t have a handy friend, go make a new one! Even better, find a friend who’s down in the dumps and, instead of you both sobbing into your root beers, try passing along an encouraging word or two. Nothing dispels self-absorption like lifting the spirits of someone else!

Learn something new. One of the things I promised myself long ago was to never stop learning new stuff. Whether it’s discovering photography, learning to appreciate Masterpiece Theater, or finally getting good at juggling chainsaws (better make sure your Life Insurance is paid up for that one!), it’s always a good thing to expand your brain into new pathways. A bonus: you’ll be surprised how it’ll give you new insights into all those old challenges, too. And there’s nothin’ like stirrin’ up the little gray cells now and then to breathe fresh air into otherwise stagnant thinking.

Keep on walkin’ Bubba! (Or if you’re in Texas, keep on moseyin’.) Put this one in blazing letters a foot high, my friend! The worst thing you can do is… stop. Stop trying, stop learning, stop talking – to stop living. Hey, waiting is one thing – we all end up there sooner or later. But stopping is a whole ‘nuther animal altogether. Keep doin’ what you know to do, and never lose hope. Trust that outside of your perception, outside of that dark, long corridor, things really are happening. Use your imagination and put some windows in that long, dark corridor you’re traveling. (OK, no more metaphors, I promise!) You have to believe that and keep goin’ with all your heart because, in fact, it’s true! One thing we can all agree on is that life is all about change, and change happens all the time, all around us. Just because you can’t see it happening…

This Too Shall Pass

Just remember, Bubba; these things haven’t come to stay in your life. Nope, they’ve come to pass. And in passing, we grow.

Are you in life’s waiting room at the moment? Then join the crowd! Trust me; you’re not the Lone Stranger in here – not by a long shot! In fact, at the moment, I’m right there with ya! (Why not come on over and we’ll visit a spell? Just look for the hat.)

Care to tell us about it? What other techniques have you learned over the years that have helped you – and maybe can help the rest of us as we wait? Take a moment, why don’t you, and share ‘em with us down there in the comment box. Hey, we’ll surely thank you!

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I don’t know if you’ve ever had the opportunity to check out the inside of a piano, but if you can, do yourself a favor: go find one and take a good look. I mean, these things are a marvel! What you’ll find is an amazing intersection of three completely different disciplines: engineering, craftsmanship, and physics.  the embodiment of the blend of form and function.

You know what I like the best about a piano, though? It’s that, when you look inside the (usually) beautifully handcrafted wooden case, it’s all so wonderfully, I don’t know, analog! And in today’s digital world, I find that kindof refreshing, don’t you?

Busy, Busy, Busy

Let’s see… inside, there’s about a zillion moving parts: wood and/or metal levers, little wooden hammers, strips of felt, metal pins, not to mention hundreds of wires ranging from very thin ones to thick, multi-wrapped monsters. I’m tellin’ ya; it’s a veritable Rube Goldberg-esque device, inside there.

One of the first things that always impressed me with your average piano is the internal structure of the wooden case. There are smooth wooden ribs and structural members running every which way in there. In fact, it’s amazing how they manage to get all that stuff in there and still leave room for the mechanical parts, too.

The thing is, a piano really needs that strength. Why? Well, there are 88 keys on the typical piano. And for each key, there are actually three piano wires. That makes a total of (hrm, let’s see now… I’m gonna have to take my shoes and socks off for this calculation…), uh, 264 wires! And all those wires, when properly tuned, produce an awful lot of… tension.

Did you know, in a modern grand piano, the total force created by the tension in those wires can be greater than 10 tons?

That Thing We Love To Hate

Ah; tension – it ranks right up there as one of the things we most love to hate, doesn’t it? Sometimes we call it stress, or strain, or even opposition, but it’s almost always the same thing. It’s that thing that opposes what we want to do.

Funny thing, though. Most of us spend so much time doing our best to avoid stress and tension in our lives (and I must admit to being no exception to that crowd), but we sometimes completely miss the fact that tension is actually a pretty useful thing to have. (sound of incredulity from the audience) No, really!

Let’s use this piano as an example. I mean, when you get right down to it, the very reason for a piano’s existence (and pretty much any stringed instrument, for that matter) is to provide a way to stretch a series of strings out in such a way as to produce music. And to do that, you have to have two anchor point (one fixed and one adjustable), and something to string between them.

Now, to produce the proper musical sound, you have to do what? (Yes, you in the back with your hand raised.) That’s right: stretch the dickens outta that wire! (or string, or gut, or whatever) Yep; ya gotta put the thing under a great deal of tension. And isn’t tension just another way of saying “getting pulled in two different directions”?

Otherwise, instead of, say, Mozart we’d get, I don’t know, maybe something that sounds a lot like a war between rogue gangs of alley cats. Believe me, when you’re sittin’ there in front of thousands of folks in Carnegie Hall, about to play your first virtuoso performance, well, that wouldn’t do at all! (Unless, of course, you were, y’know, going for Theme From: Cat Fight. Hey, I never know what passes for music these days).

Time to Make Music

Now, I think most of us experience the same sort of thing pretty much all the time, don’t we? I mean, we all have a little of this, that, and the other thing, all pullin’ us in different directions, with never a letup in sight. Life is like that, y’know?

But in fact, isn’t it also true that those tensions, stresses, and strains, once we learn to “tune” them to the proper note, are what help produce the beautiful music that is our lives? It’s somewhere there in the balance, isn’t it?

So next time you’re tempted to curse, rant or rail about something in your life that’s pullin’ you in two different directions, just think about that piano. After everything is said and done, it isn’t all about the tensions we face every day. Hey, welcome to life!

Nope, I think life is really all about the music.

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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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