If you're new around these parts, I just want to say how much I appreciate your dropping by! Oh, and you may want to subscribe to my feed. Thanks, and a tip o' the hat to ya!

Warning: This story contains, um, potty humor. Feel a bit daring? Well, read on…

Back in the year 2000 (gee, that sounds like the opening line to a novel, doesn’t it?) I was living in Portland, Oregon, and I have to say it was truly a moving experience.

See, for those of us from other parts of the United States, the Pacific Northwest can be quite an extraordinary transition. I mean, everything is so green, the trees are absolutely humongous, and (particularly amazing when you’re from the coastal plains of Texas like yours truly) there are mountains everywhere! Whoa Nellie – I can see Mt. Hood and a few other well-known mountains (can anybody say “Mt. St. Helens”?) from here!

Anyway, I was working at a semiconductor plant in Beaverton, and our office facilities were just a grouping of portable buildings set up on concrete blocks. It’s not an unusual setup for a field engineering operation like ours. However, one major drawback to this kind of working environment – well, it’s not exactly stable.

OK, maybe that’s the wrong word. It, um, sortof jiggled a lot. Alright, here’s what I mean: Every time somebody walked down the aisle, you could feel the building shake a bit with their footfalls. And closing a door – any door – shook the walls, too. Sometimes working in a building like this takes a bit of getting used to.

So what does potty humor have to do with all this? Well…

One fine afternoon I happened to be in the restroom, washing my hands (What? You don’t wash your hands? What are you, a Neanderthal?), when suddenly the entire room began to rhythmically sway from side to side! And we’re not talking about the normal shake, rattle and roll from people walking or doors slamming; no, it was like, for 30 seconds or so, our entire set of offices decided to do an Elvis impression!

It was strong enough that you could actually hear the water sloshing around in the toilet stalls, one of which, unfortunately, happened to be occupied by some poor unfortunate soul. (Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time!) After it finally subsided (it’s amazing how long 30 seconds can seem!) there were a few seconds of stunned silence. Then he exhaled noisily and exclaimed, “Waahoo, what a ride! Let’s do that again!” (I don’t know who he was, but he must have been from Texas!)

OK, I realize that some of you may be thinking to yourselves, “Pfaugh! You call that an earthquake?” Well, first of all: here, borrow my handkerchief and clean that up - it’s disgusting! Then all I can say is, Hey, this was my first one ever, and it was quite enough for me, thank you very much!

As you have no doubt surmised, I managed to survive that harrowing experience with little more than a bit of induced mental trauma (you’re probably wondering: how would you know the difference?), and as I was thinking (sound of grinding gears) about that little episode I came to realize there’s an interesting tie-in possible with our current What I Learned From… project about CHANGE. (And I bet you thought I might forget to mention it, didn’t you? Hah! Not a chance!)

Y’know, deliberate change can sometimes be as disorienting as an earthquake. I mean, think about it for a minute (sound of LOTS of gears grinding). When we set out to change something – whatever it might be – then everything we’re familiar and (dare I say it?) comfortable with – that’s right, all the stability we’ve come to count on… well, suddenly isn’t!

Hey, who wouldn’t be a little flustered, excited, or just plain upset about that?

Ah, but change has a way of rewarding us, doesn’t it? New neuron connections, new ways of thinking, new ways of seeing the world; hey, eventually a new equilibrium is reached, and you just might find yourself saying, “Waahoo, what a ride! Let’s do that again!”

So why not give it a try?

(p.s. If you decide to accept the challenge, you still have a few days to write a post and let me know. The project is open until midnight CST (-5 GMT) Sunday, September 9^th.

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