Robbers Roost

The third annual Real Men's Memorial Day Canyon Trip was held at Robbers Roost this year. There were only three of us--Merritt, Sam and me, as Dave Jarvi had a family wedding. The Roost is remote country--not even much grazing going on out there. It got its name as a hideout for outlaws of the wild west, including Butch Cassidy and his gang.

We did four canyons--Little Bluejohn/Horseshoe, Not Mindbender, Larry and Alcatraz. Many terrific memories, including the Great Gallery in Horseshoe--a magnificent wall of pictographs from the Barrier period--between 2000-1000 b.c. We descended the canyon where Aron Ralston lost his arm. We squeezed through plenty of skinnies, often requiring chimneying off the deck to pass through. Saw a little wildlife, including a baby canyon wren in Larry that kept unsuccessfully trying to learn how to cling to a canyon wall--poor thing kept falling to the ground, once right at my feet; pronghorn antelope at the Larry Trailhead; a little rattler in Not Mindbender; some wild horses (or maybe mules) in Bluejohn, including a white one who aggressively followed our journey, and other critters as well.

One small experience of note. I'd just finished cleaning the rope in the first 70-foot rap in Little Bluejohn. It was my first time in this canyon. Merritt and Sam were just around the corner, sitting in a little alcove waiting and we decided it was a good photo-op. I was still carrying the rope bag, so to free up my hands for the camera, I tossed it down, but off to the side so it would be out of the picture. I then watched their eyes get wide as saucers as we heard ka-thwap, ka-thwap, ka ... (object descending 70 feet accelerating to 32 feet per second) THUMP. Yep, having no idea it was around the corner, I'd tossed our only rope down the second 70-foot rap. I think Sam's words were: "Uh, that was a bad idea, Dad."

Fortunately, it turned out fine. I had brought along extra webbing, which we were able to rap down. Just took a little more creative thinking. We also had slings, plus there's a little ledge off to the side about 12 feet down. So I'm guessing there were a couple more solutions available to us. Honestly, even when I first realized that we were ropeless between two big rappels I was confident we'd figure something out. Two thoughts on the experience:

1. Important lesson: Don't throw your rope anyplace you can't see. Uh ... DUH!

2. That five minutes of figuring out what we were going to do were the most memorable of my four days in the canyons. Unlike many of the canyoneers I meet, I'm not an engineer. But high-stakes problem-solving seems to surface the best in us, bringing me, at least, fully in the moment, engaged, focused and alive.

Every day we did a "Hero Play of the Day" and a "Bonehead Play of the Day." Needless to say, I took home the bonehead gold that day.

Great canyons. Great company. Great food. Nice campsites. Beautiful, rugged country that wore a lovely shade of green being early in the season and having taken a little rain. Photos on Flickr.

On Being a Customer

Over the past several months I've done a lot more shopping than ever before. And I find myself gravitating to the same places--Dan's and Wild Oats for groceries, Home Depot and Costco for everything else. They have earned my business over time, by keeping their stores neat and clean, having the products I want, being generally pleasant and helpful and never offending me. And so I am a loyal customer.

"Customer" is derived from the word "custom," which is "a habitual practice." We often don't think about it that way anymore, as we shift from store to store based on who is having a sale. But I take a little delight in being old school, and I like it that I am learning my way around these stores, and that I recognize some of the employees, and after only a few months some of them recognize me as well.

I think businesses would be wise to rethink the classic definition of customer. It's easier and cheaper to nurture and strengthen your relationship with a customer than it is to attract new triers with price and promotions. Peter Drucker once said that the purpose of a business is to create and keep a customer. That's a good choice of words, I think. Create a customer.

Benefit of the Doubt

For some time I've been mulling over a previously overlooked principle of success in relationships--the benefit of the doubt. (How I can live 50 years and miss so many obvious things continues to amaze me.) It's quite simple, really--instead of mentally accusing (and trying, and condemning) someone for the evil intent of their actions, give them the benefit of the doubt. It's really the psychological polar opposite of paranoia, and I have come to the conclusion that for many of us, this is a big, big deal, both for the success of our relationships and for our personal happiness.

Countless times something has happened that annoyed me, and I assume my wife/child/colleague/acquaintance/service provider was acting with malicious intent. So my mind stews and it swirls and it froths and it foams and I can't wait to return serve, often a volley of accusation and insinuation, leading to a flurry of points and counterpoints, the outcome of which is anything but love-love.

I was intrigued by a recent Fortune article on Indra Nooyi, Chairman and CEO of PepsiCo (and the most powerful woman in business), who talked about the same principle as a key to her success, although she phrased it better and more positively: "Assume the best about people," I think were her words.

Maybe sometimes I have been correct in my dark assumptions, but just as often I've been wrong, which is a suspect interpersonal equation. It's such a simple thing, and yet I find myself applying it almost every day, and when I get it right I have a much sunnier outlook on life and my relationships are better. I'm certainly not cured. But like the alcoholic, it's one day at a time.

The State of Perfect Balance

I saw a full-page ad in the Wall Street Journal this morning that caught my eye. It read: "Ohio--The State of Perfect Balance," which is a multiple double-entendre, I think. It featured Kate Bailey, who apparently is a vice president at DSW in Ohio, and, according to the ad, "matches a stylish career with a rich family life." As opposed to a "rich career with a stylish family life," which I think would have broader appeal.

I'm not sure what I'm supposed to take away from the ad. Maybe that nobody works very hard in Ohio, so you'll fit right in? And how about the slogan claiming "Perfect Balance"? What is this, The Ballerina State? Anyway, it got me to thinking, and I came up with a few alternates they might want to consider:

Ohio: Move here if you don't want to work much.
Ohio: Bring us your hungry, your poor, and especially your Imbalanced.
Ohio: Find Perfect Balance working from home and make big $$$! (They can post this to telephone poles, saving media costs.)
Ohio: We're not very good at anything, but we are Perfectly Balanced.
Ohio: The State of Bad Marketing

May-May on Mothers Day

I first met her in the summer of 1967. I was ten years old, prior to my fifth grade year in school. It started as a trial run. I had been living in St. Paul Children’s Home with other children with no parents, part of the young group who were gradually transforming from deprived children into social misfits and juvenile delinquents. Occasionally one of the group would be called to a foster family, but actual adoption was almost unheard of at my age. Yet here we were. Mother and Dad had married in 1961, I think. She was now 39 and he was 49. I would be the first child for both. This was an unlikely threesome.

Mom did everything possible to make me feel comfortable. When I arrived, we were in the process of buying our house on Skyline Parkway in Duluth, Minnesota, but still lived on the more rural Miller Trunk Highway, which was busy and dangerous and not very conducive to meeting other kids. So during the day while Dad went to work it was Mother and me, and not having any experience in the art of motherhood, she had not yet learned to say no. So we did whatever I wanted, which meant hours spent out on the lawn hitting baseballs to each other, and when I tired of that playing board games in the house—chess, Yahtzee, Milles Borne and others. I wanted a pet and she got me a calico cat, which I nicknamed Snoopy, an ironical homage to my favorite character in Peanuts.

After a year the trial turned into a formal adoption and we three made our lives together. It had never been easy for Mom. Her first marriage was bad and she divorced before it got worse. Her marriage to Dad was almost inevitable, given they were baptized in the same church on the same night, were both Finnish, and once Mom’s divorce was final, both single. But Dad had been a bachelor for 20 years and his ways were not easily changed or adapted to marriage. Plus, mother battled a hereditary mental condition, a chemical imbalance which in those days was generally neither diagnosed nor treated. But like her mother and others in her family, she suffered through periods of deep depression and frustration, although by the early 70’s she was prescribed medication which certainly helped. It was, as far as I could tell, her only imperfection, unless you count that fact that she wasn’t very good at crafts, despite her unfailing enthusiasm.

My memories are full and rich of my mother, but perhaps one thing about her character stands out more than any other. She was a friend to the friendless. If there were people who were lonely, old, feeble or troubled in any way, my mother was there for them. One young boy had great difficulty with his parents (prior to my arrival), and my parents took him in. When my Great Uncle Emil had to be in Duluth for treatment, he stayed with us. When my cousin Howie was a freshman at UMD, we shared a room. When grumpy old widows needed help with their shopping, my parents drove them around, and gave them rides to church and had them over for dinner as well. When those that were unlikable needed a friend, my mother was there without judgment. I have never seen a more selfless heart in any individual.

I learned true religion from my mother—less by precept than by daily example. When I left home after high school we were still great friends, and would have frequent visits and lengthy phone discussions. Once married and with children, I was fortunate to have her nearby most of the time, and will ever be grateful for the love and example she shared with the kids, and only wish it could have been longer. And on this Mother’s Day I humbly pay tribute to May-May, as the kids named her, as the greatest and most profound influence upon my life.

May Quotes

"We build good ships here.
At a profit--if we can.
At a loss--if we must.
But always good ships.
--Collis P. Huntington, founder, Newport news Shipbuilding and Dry Dock Company, 1886

"In any moment of decision the best thing you can do is the right thing, the next best thing is the wrong thing, and the worst thing you can do is nothing."
--Theodore Roosevelt

"Imagination is more important than knowledge."
--Albert Einstein

“When a brave man takes a stand, the spines of others are often stiffened.”
—-Billy Graham

“The only thing we know about the future is that it will be different.”
--Peter Drucker

"If anything is perfect in this world, love is perfect in its imperfections."
--Jons, in Ingmar Bergman's The Seventh Seal

"Continuous effort -- not strength or intelligence -- is the key to unlocking our potential."
--Liane Cordes

"So the writer who breeds more words than he needs, is making a chore for the reader who reads."
--Dr. Seuss

Irish Diplomacy... is the ability to tell a man to go to hell so that he looks forward to making the trip.


"The only difference between a tax man and a taxidermist is that the taxidermist leaves the skin."
--- Mark Twain

"The race may not always be to the swift, or the fight to the strong, but that's the way to bet."
--Damon Runyan


“Unless commitment is made, there are only promises and hopes; but no plans.”
--Peter Drucker

"Don't wait on a perfect plan, just get a good plan and go with it."
--Jack Welch

"Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect."
--Mark Twain

"The factory of the future will have only two employees, a man and a dog. The man will be there to feed the dog. The dog will be there to keep the man from touching the equipment."
--Warren G. Bennis

Emily Dickinson

I have been trying to escape with a little poetry every day, spending time with The Oxford Book of American Poetry, which Merritt was nice enough to give me as a gift, after I gave him the same last Christmas and then admired it with a covetous eye.

It has been fun reconnecting with some of my favorites, but also discovering many new poets, some of which form an instant bond, and others that make it easy for me to move on to the next. This morning it was Emily Dickinson, an unlikely poet. A recluse who rarely left her homestead during her adult years, she cultivated an unorthodox style and a wry sense of humor which provides occasional respite from her ironical and melancholic observations and general preoccupation with illness and death. Here's a few that provoked my thoughts this morning:

Success is Counted Sweetest

Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne'r succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.

Not one of all the purple Host
Who took the Flag today
Can tell the definition
So clear of Victory

As he defeated--dying--
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Burst agonized and clear.

1859


Fame is a Bee

Fame is a bee.
It has a song--
It has a sting--
Ah, too, it has a wing.

Snows and Shows

I looked out the window this morning and was shocked to see the ground whitened by snow. I went outside to get a better view and saw the tulips looking quite forlorn, cold and topped with snow but firm in their resistance to live through the weather. They are womanly things, these flowers, and I suppose feel threatened by the ravages of time and the elements upon their native beauty. It continued to snow lightly off and on throughout the day, and I think this is the first time I can remember it snowing on my birthday, even as a kid in Minnesota.

I watched two movies this week, both of which I recommend. Lars and the Real Girl is a delight--a quirky comedy about a shy socially maladjusted guy who gets delusional about a life-sized mail-order doll. Wonderfully creative idea, and it turns out to be quite uplifting as well, all on a low budget with a genuine Indy feel. Starring Ryan Gosling and Patricia Clarkson.

And finally sat down with the critically-acclaimed Charlie Wilson's War, which is both an insightful lesson in recent history and a well-executed and engaging film. Tom Hanks is very good as the substance-abusing and lecherous Congressman Charlie Wilson (Hanks never turns in a weak performance) but Phillip Seymour Hoffman is fabulous as an iconoclastic CIA journeyman. The dialog between the two in their first meeting is some of the best and funniest in recent memory, and Hanks and Hoffman show impeccable timing and surprising chemistry. In fact, there is plenty of good writing throughout, which helps keep the movie on pace when it might otherwise drag under the burden of a one-dimensional plot-line.

Watch them both if you're still waiting for Spring to confirm its arrival.