Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Made to Stick


What do the following three statements have in common?
1. The Great Wall of China is the only man-made object visible from space.
2. Children must be careful what they eat on Halloween, to avoid poisoned or tampered foods.
3. You use only 10% of your brain.

Two things in common. First, they are all false. You can’t see the Great Wall from space. There are no known instances of Halloween candy tampering. And we use much more than 10% of our brain. And second, despite having no truth, the statements are all incredibly “sticky,” or memorable. I’ve heard each one dozens of times. They have endured for decades.

That’s the opening of Made to Stick, a book I read recently by brothers Chip and Dan Heath. They have studied this “sticky” phenomenon and derived certain principles that we might apply to many of our communications, be they marketing, leadership or interpersonal. Here's what "sticks": Simplicity, Unexpectedness, Concreteness, Credibility, Emotions and “Stories.” (Cheesy enough, these spell “SUCCESs,” well, sort of.) I know, they don’t sound very groundbreaking when listed professorially. But the Heaths spice up the concept with plenty of interesting examples and research. And while I’m not sure if I’m a “stickier” communicator having read the book, it’s at least caused me to think about the goal of stickiness.

Here’s an example. John F. Kennedy, in his famous 1961 address to Congress, laid out a bold and dramatic goal for the country: “I believe that this nation should commit itself to achieving the goal, before this decade is out, of landing a man on the moon and returning him safely to the earth.” Sticky? You bet. Why? Well, it’s simple, unexpected, credible and concrete. And then we did it, just to Stick It to the Russians.

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Disastrous

I recently finished a two-week Community Emergency Response Training (CERT) class, training for local communities to quickly mobilize in times of disaster, such as floods, earthquakes or terrorist attacks. I wouldn’t ordinarily be very interested in this type of thing. I’ve never had that survivalist mentality, and have always equated being prepared with living a life of fear. Instead, I have chosen to ignore the risks in passive comfort and hope that it would never happen to me. Truth be known, even my presence at the class stemmed from a mistake—I thought it was about family preparedness. But once in, I stuck it out for the entire 16 hours, which proved to be interesting, valuable and impactful.

The CERT program is a child of 9-11. In the aftermath, the president asked citizens and communities to proactively prepare, and placed the general call to action under the aegis of FEMA, which developed the Citizen Corps program. CERT is a fledgling concept and operates very much as a starfish organization (see blog from 1.14.08). Anyone can get certified and establish the program in his/her community. There is no chain of command or centralized structure.

Our instructor was Ken Moravec, whose incredible disaster experiences include working for an unnamed government agency in foreign countries to help prevent nuclear and chemical attacks, time in Iraq during key gas attacks (he had haunting footage), being twice exposed to severe radiation (after one attack, still flying a helicopter 1000 miles), having been shot nine times, assisting the Red Cross in recovery and extraction after a Mexican earthquake, getting stuck on a collapsed freeway in Oakland during the famed 1989 earthquake, volunteering at Katrina, and more. If all this is to be believed, and coupled with his extensive knowledge, his credentials are extraordinary.

It was something of a revelation to me that in most major disasters, public service teams are spread very thin, and often take 3-5 days to reach many neighborhoods. So we were trained (including simulations) in search and rescue, triage, damage control and even creating temporary morgues, as well as disaster preparation and management. It was all quite fascinating. And while I’m not ready to build a bomb shelter in my backyard, I was motivated to take some steps to be more prepared. Further, I’ve been asked to head the efforts in our community, which I agreed to do, although not without reservations.

Final tidbit of more than passing interest: Our house is located a stone’s throw from the Wasatch Fault, which has erupted with a large earthquake every 300-400 years, and is overdue for the next, which could be devastating. Various experts cite the likelihood of a major (Richter 7.5 or higher) Wasatch quake at 25-57% over the next 50-100 years.

Maybe the Boy Scouts are right. It's good to be prepared.

Friday, February 15, 2008

Is That a Fact?

I’ve found that it’s virtually impossible to ferret out truth from rhetoric during a presidential campaign. Often the best you can do is seek out a variety of sources and try to determine who is lying. Unfortunately, when claims and counterclaims are volleyed back and forth, I find that I am a poor polygraph. I don't think the press is any better, neither the liberal New York Times and major networks or the conservative Fox News and Wall Street Journal. There must be conscientious editors and publishers that try hard to be unbiased, but I’m never sure who they are. Further, in their effort to be non-partisan, the best they can manage is bi-partisanship, so the unfortunate reader has to settle for factional distortions from both sides.

One site I really like is www.factcheck.org. Their sacred mission is to expose the dishonesty, hyperbole and shady tactics from both sides of the fence, and hold all candidates accountable for their campaign rhetoric. The result is a bright light on the dirty world of American politics, which suffers badly from the illumination.

For the next nine months (what a painful gestation period!) the FactCheck RSS feed is in at the top of my home page. One unfortunate side-effect is that on November 4th I'll have to vote for a candidate who I know has dealt in lies and treachery at worst, or distortion and sophistry at best. And sadly, that's a fact.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Treading Lightly


Two items in the latest issue of National Geographic Adventure caught my attention. First, in Learn the Ancient Way, author Charlie LeDuff spends time with Navajo rancher Tom Big John (Uncle Tom), who lives in Monument Valley in northern Arizona. The Ojibway (Chippewa) author describes his house like this: “Uncle Tom’s cabin was the simplest, most rural home I’ve ever visited in the United States: 200 square feet of plywood, a bed, a table, a wood-burning stove, a washbasin. No electricity, no plumbing… He had six dogs, four horses, a half-dozen cattle, and twice as many sheep.”

Uncle Tom spoke very little English, and living alone, was used to speaking hardly at all. But there was a surprising revelation: “Uncle Tom told me about his life and showed me a copy of a check made out to him from the United States Treasury--$100,000. ‘Two more,’ he said in English. Next year two more checks, he meant. A settlement, it turned out, for years spent in a mine. Uncle Tom was wealthy. And he lived like this not because he had to, but because he wanted to.”

The next article, The Vanishing Breed, was about the Nenets, an indigenous band of Russian reindeer herders—Komi people. This small band has no permanent residence, but move with their herd of 2500 reindeer, travelling on sleds and living together in a skinned chum (like a teepee). Their people have lived like this forever. They were ignored during the Russian revolution and again forgotten during Stalin’s purge. And curiously, some have experienced life in Russian towns, but choose to brave -30°F temperatures in the winter and +90°F in the summer and live in the chum. “We live better than in the village,” said one women. “It has always been that way and will always be.”

I’m continually amazed at how quickly we dismiss lifestyles that deviate from the American dream. Most of us have little idea what will truly make us happy, but scurry along with the rest of the lemmings over the cliffs of self-indulgence and mindless profligacy. But I am inspired to read about Uncle Tom, and the indigenous Nenets, who may not have all of life’s answers, but are willing to turn from the endless road of acquisition and consumerism and tread lightly on a different path.

Saturday, February 09, 2008

Shaking All Over

After exchanging handshakes yesterday with a few dozen people that I hadn’t seen in three months, I was curiously compelled to wash my hands. I’ve never been germophobic before, never given it much thought, but for some reason I wondered what manner of microscopic bacteria I had accumulated in my quick round of social exchanges. Maybe it's because I got the flu this winter, which is rare for me. I've read that the increased frequency of cold and flu in the winter has little or nothing to do with the temperature directly, but likely results from more people being indoors exchanging disease-carrying microbes. I’m not convinced that's true, but it sure might be.

In the spirit of election-year campaigning, I think it’s time for a change. It's time to take action. It's time for the handshake to go. After all, this social institution pre-dates germ theory, which really didn’t go mainstream until the 20th century. But in our modern-day enlightened state it has become an anachronism. Hands are extraordinarily useful tools and thus routinely leave their bacterial tailings to form new colonies. Think of your TV remote control as a mingling place for one-celled fungi, a banister in your house as a microbe convention center, or the average doorknob a virtual singles bar of lusty germs just waiting for an opening to snuggle up to a warm-blooded body. This is not to mention public places, where billions of micro-organisms of unknown origin and with nary a background check quietly live from hand to mouth in our airports, theaters, stadiums and schools.

Now I know where my hands have been, but what about Jim’s, who gripped me firmly and greeted me with what I now think may have been a diabolical smile? Is Jim a nose-picker? Did he use his fingers to clean the wax out of his ears this morning, or worse yet, to attend to an itch in the most unpleasant of orifices? Did he scratch his head to check for dandruff? Does he leave a public bathroom by pushing on the door with his hand, heaven forbid? Did he even wash his hands after toileting, and if so, was he in too much of a hurry to use soap? The mind doesn’t have to wander far to find a lot of troubling places hands are likely to be. My goodness, they are still the appendage of choice for trapping the slimy discharge from a sudden sneeze—the Burning Man of all pathogenic social gatherings.

I don’t personally have a firm proposal for replacing the handshake ritual. The Japanese bow seems like a perfect solution, but our American culture is proud by nature and would abhor its symbolic subservience. I also like the way some Europeans kiss cheeks, but that has way too much baggage in our traditionally homophobic culture, and I refuse to import anything so fundamental from the haughty French. Hugs are too personal for a business setting, plus most people are not very good at them (although perhaps they could improve with practice and a few lessons). The notion of touching foreheads is also intriguing, right until I think about the time I met Shawn Bradley. We even might consider some of the gestures that have emerged from the sports world—like the fist bump, which is high in cool factor, or the forearm bump, which is less so. But definitely not the chest bump, which would be terribly awkward between the sexes and, in this silicone age, potentially fatal.

We’re an adaptive species by nature and I’m sure we could figure something out. We just need the motivation. I read about a town that outlawed handshakes during a flu epidemic, which probably couldn’t pass muster with our Supreme Court, but is a fanciful idea for congressional action. But I really think this more of a grass roots thing. So in the masculine spirit of the handshake I propose we make a gentlemen’s agreement to start by discontinuing the practice between ourselves? OK? Let’s shake on it.

Tuesday, February 05, 2008

Association Tests

I was looking for something in the book Blink last night, and ran across this test, which I took again. It's called an Implicit Association Test (IAT) and it very effectively measures your association between different concepts. Try the ones below, which are very simple. Just go down the list and as quickly as possible check the mental box on whether the names go left (MALE) or right (FEMALE). (Sorry for the dots as separation, but spaces didn't do the formatting I needed.)


MALE................FEMALE

_________ John _________
_________ Bob _________
_________ Amy _________
_________ Holly _________
_________ Joan _________
________ Derek _________
_________ Peggy _________
_________ Jason _________
_________ Lisa _________
_________ Matt _________
_________ Sarah _________

That was pretty easy, right? Now try one a little more complex. Mentally check the left box if the word or name is associated with either MALE or CAREER, and the right box if associated with either FEMALE or FAMILY. Remember, go as fast as you can.

MALE or............FEMALE or
CAREER.............FAMILY

_________ Lisa _________
_________ Matt _________
_________ Laundry_________
______ Entrepreneur ______
_________ John ___________
________ Merchant_________
__________ Bob _________
_______ Capitalist_______
______ Corporation ______
_________ Siblings________
_________ Peggy _________
_________ Jason ________
________ Kitchen ________
_______ Housework _______
________ Parents _________
_________ Sarah _________
_________ Derek _________

OK, still not bad. Now try this: MALE or FAMILY on the left and FEMALE or CAREER on the right. Go fast. Don't say "Male" etc., but rather go left or right.

MALE or..............FEMALE or
FAMILY................CAREER

_________ Babies _________
_________ Sarah _________
_________ Derek _________
________ Merchant _________
_______ Employment_________
_________ John __________
__________ Bob ___________
_________ Holly ___________
_______ Domestic _________
______ Entrepreneur _______
_________ Office __________
_________ Jason ___________
_________ Joan ___________
________ Peggy ___________
________ Cousins __________
______ Grandparents ________
__________Jason __________
_________ Home ___________
_________ Lisa _________
______ Corporation ________
_________ Matt ___________

Hmmmm. Not quite so easy, huh? Take more time? For me it did, because I'm stuck with associations of males/career and female/family. There's an even more difficult one in the book about our associations with blacks. Even the author, Malcolm Gladwell, couldn't escape standard stereotypes, even though he is African-American. There are more of these online at www.implicit.harvard.edu although I didn't like them as much as these simple ones.

Monday, February 04, 2008

Giants Upset Pats!

In perhaps the greatest Super Bowl in history, the New York Giants humbled the once-haughty and heavily-favored New England Patriots 17-14 last night. Led by the oft-maligned quarterback Eli Manning and the high-intensity defensive line, the Giants refused to be intimidated, playing with confidence and aggressiveness from the opening kick-off to the last and futile New England possession.

The Patriots have become the New York Yankees of football, a positioned they usurped from the Dallas Cowboys. Although there is an exception--they don't buy their championships. Still, they are so good, so methodical, so arrogant that the average Joe feels compelled to root against them. And certainly that was the sentiment at my house. Nobody was a Giant fan before this season, but there was plenty of enthusiasm for seeing the Patriots get their tails whipped, and also for Eli to get some love.

In what is starting to become a tradition, Angelica and Lanee laid out a devastating line-up of snack foods, and our small crowd ate and cheered until the combination made our bellies hurt. It doesn't get any better than that. (Well actually, that's not quite true. Ryan was at the game in Glendale, witnessing one of the most exciting and historic Super Bowls of all time. It doesn't get any better than THAT. We watched on TV, along with the other record-setting 148 million viewers worldwide, which was still good living.)

Saturday, February 02, 2008

February Quotes

Every time I run across a quote I like I put it on my list. For the past year or so I've been putting a new quote in my email signature every day. Lately I've taken to memorizing one a day. I've been surprised at how useful they have become, when memorized. Here's a few more from my list. Some of these are my "classics," which I've had and used for many years.

It is easier to preach ten sermons than it is to live one.

"We can never get enough of what we don't need, because what we don't need won't satisfy us."
--Dallin Oaks

"Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work."
--Thomas Edison

"There are some people that if they don't know, you can't tell them."
--Louis Armstrong

"I learned the way a monkey learns, by watching its parents."
--Queen Elizabeth II

The heights of great men reached and kept
Were not attained by sudden flight,
But they, while their companions slept,
Were toiling upward in the night.
--Longfellow

"Put all your eggs in one basket and WATCH THAT BASKET!"
--Mark Twain

"The supreme paradox of all thought is the attempt to discover something that thought cannot think."
--Søren Kierkegaard

"You only live once, but if you work it right, once is enough."
-- Joe Louis

An optimist is a person who, instead of feeling sorry he cannot pay his bills, is glad he is not one of his creditors.

"Give me a lever and a place to stand, and I will move the world."
--Archimedes

“Money often costs too much."
-- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Talk is cheap because supply exceeds demand.

"Nothing you can't spell will ever work."
--Will Rogers

A wise man should have money in his head, but not in his heart.
--Jonathan Swift

Opportunity may knock once, but temptation bangs on your door forever.

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Sundance Sunset

Another Sundance Film Festival come and gone. Afterwards, I'm always asked the same two questions, which I will address here:

1. What did you see that you liked?

★ ★ ★ ★ The Visitor
★ ★ ★ ★ Diminished Capacity
★ ★ ★ ★ Transsiberian
★ ★ ★ ★ A Raisin in the Sun
★ ★ ★ ★ Birds of America
★ ★ ★ Made in America
★ ★ ★ The Merry Gentleman
★ ★ ★ The Deal
★ ★ ★ U2 3D
★ ★ ★ Henry Poole is Here
★ ★ ★ The Yellow Handkerchief
★ ★ ★ Red
★ ★ ★ CSNY Déjà vu
★ ★ ★ Baghead
★ ★ The Last Word
★ ★ Incendiary
★ ★ The Year of Getting to Know Us
★ ★ Sleepwalking
★ ★ Time Crimes
★ Pretty Bird
★ Savage Grace
★ Towelhead
Unrated: Death in Love


Other movies that got very good word-of-mouth, but that I didn’t see:
In Bruges (Colin Farrell, brendan Gleeson, Ralph Fiennes)
The Great Buck Howard (Tom Hanks, John Malkovich, Steve Zahn, Colin Hanks)
Sunshine Cleaning (Amy Adams, Jason Spevack, Steve Zahn)
Phoebe in Wonderland (Elle Fanning, Felicity Huffman, Patricia Clarkson, Bill Pullman)
Frozen River (Melissa Leo, Misty Upham, Charlie McDermott)
What Just Happened? (Robert DeNiro, Bruce Willis, Sean Penn)
The Wind and the Water (Spanish/Panama)

2. What stars did you see? I always hesitate to answer that. Perhaps the better questions would be:

What big stars did you meet personally, get to know, and plan to vacation with in the future? None.

What big stars did you make small talk with and exchange email addresses? None.

What big stars did your wife bump into in the bathroom and you exchange a sentence with? One—Glenn Close.

What big stars did you see as they walked by and up to the podium to talk about their movies? Hmmm… I’ll try to list them: David Crosby, Stephen Stills, Graham Nash, Neil Young, Bono, The Edge, U2, Sharon Stone, Jimmy Fallon, Tom Arnold, Luke Wilson, Eddy Redmayne, Wes Bentley, William Macy, Meg Ryan, Stacy Peralta, Jason Ritter, Matthew Broderick, Alan Alda, Virginia Madsen, Michael Keaton, Kelley Macdonald, P. Diddy, Phylicia Rashad, Woody Harrelson, Glenn Close, Charlize Theron, Dennis Hopper, Maria Bello, Ben Kingsley, Eduardo Noriega, Kate Mara, William Hurt, among others.

Which of these were most impressive? Ben Kingsley, Jimmy Fallon, Stacy Peralta, Alan Alda and Phylicia Rashad.

For most of us mere mortals, the big stars are very inaccessible at Sundance. Maybe you see them here and there, but it would be inappropriate to intrude, even if you could. On the other hand, there are plenty of people involved in the movies, e.g. directors, producers, writers and actors, who are passionate about their work and more than eager to talk about their films. They haven’t become big yet (and maybe never will) and they are very excited to be at Sundance. I always meet and talk to quite a few of these, and it is one of my favorite parts of the festival.

Monday, January 21, 2008

More Favorite Quotes

"Drawing on my fine command of the English language, I said nothing."
--Robert Benchley

"You can't build a reputation on what you're GOING to do."
--Henry Ford

"Fall seven times. Stand up eight."
--Japanese Proverb

"The real secret of success is enthusiasm."
--Walter Chrysler

"A man is rich in proportion to the number of things which he can afford to let alone."
--Thoreau

"There is more to life than increasing its speed."
--Gandhi

"We are here on earth to do good to others. What the others are here for, I don't know."
--W. H. Auden

"He deserves paradise who makes his companions laugh."
--The Koran

"Don't be too timid and squeamish about your actions. All life is an experiment."
--Emerson

"Be bold--and mighty forces will come to your aid."
--Basil King

"If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put foundations under them."
--Thoreau

"The superior man things always of virtue; the common man thinks of comfort."
--Confucius

"The greatest obstacle to discovery is not ignorance--it is the illusion of knowledge."
--Daniel J. Boorstin

"The sun will set without thy assistance."
--The Talmud

Wisdom has two parts:
1) Having a lot to say.
2) Not saying it.

Saturday, January 19, 2008

Sundance 2008

Sundance 2008 has opened and I have joined the black-clad throng in Park City. Saw four movies yesterday and the expected smattering of celebrities talking about them, including Woody Harrelson, Ben Kingsley, Kelley MacDonald, Maria Bello, William Hurt and Michael Keaton. I write little snippets on the movies, published as a blog on a friend of mine's site (good place to get a condo in Park City and other exotic locations!). You can see it at http://www.summitpacificinc.com/films.html. Too much writing for one week, so taking a hiatus from Downstream Ditties.

Monday, January 14, 2008

The Starfish and the Spider

A few months ago I ran across Rod Beckstrom’s website (www.beckstrom.com), which is mainly about his new book, The Starfish and the Spider. I was fascinated by the concept and found his video on the site very entertaining, so I got the book and read it with interest.

The core principle contrasts “spider” organizations with “starfish” organizations. Turns out that spiders are very centralized, rather like humans. Cut off their heads and they die. In contrast, starfish are decentralized creatures. Sever a leg, and another one grows back. Remove all the legs, and remarkably, each one can grow a new starfish. All the biological information and equipment required for the starfish exists in each leg. Well, you see where this is going. Traditional companies are like spiders, with a CEO running a top-down organization. Command and control, maybe sprinkled with a little distributed autonomy. But a new type of organization is beginning to emerge, stimulated largely by the existing internet network, that are more like the starfish.

Alcoholics Anonymous is a starfish organization. No one controls it. You can start a chapter wherever you want. Napster was a starfish organization, as are virtually all P2P file-sharing services. Maybe the ultimate starfish is the Internet. (Beckstrom tells a great story from the mid-90’s when some French investors asked an ISP CEO who was the president of the Internet, and couldn’t fathom the idea that no one controlled it.) It’s power to the people. These organizations are very difficult to kill. Cut off a limb, and another grows back. And there are also, quite appropriately, hybrid organizations—part starfish and part spider. Ebay is one of these. The payment structure is all spider, with a centralized PayPal service for your protection. But the network of buyers and sellers, policed by member ratings, is very much starfish.

Beckstrom points out great benefits to decentralized organizations, including something of a moral charge. If you’re a fan of democracies, then relinquishing control to members has something more than a practical appeal—it seems romantically idealistic. The Starfish and The Spider is the kind of book that stimulates your thinking, and after reading it I had all manner of visions and ideas floating around in my head. And I’ll never look at starfish the same way again.

Friday, January 11, 2008

I Will Not Equivocate!


This morning I was reading about William Lloyd Garrison, the American 19th-century abolitionist, whose inflammatory speeches and writing cast slavery as a moral issue of profound importance to our nation. His most famous quotation:

"I am aware that many object to the severity of my language; but is there not cause for severity? I will be as harsh as truth, and as uncompromising as justice. On this subject, I do not wish to think, or to speak, or write, with moderation. No! no! Tell a man whose house is on fire to give a moderate alarm; tell him to moderately rescue his wife from the hands of the ravisher; tell the mother to gradually extricate her babe from the fire into which it has fallen; – but urge me not to use moderation in a cause like the present. I am in earnest – I will not equivocate – I will not excuse – I will not retreat a single inch – AND I WILL BE HEARD."

Contrast that to the empty rhetoric I heard in last night's Republican debate, where everyone did their dramatic best to show conviction and earnestness, but with the occasional exception of Ron Paul, no one waved the banner of moral imperative and desperate urgency. In this age of political correctness, we have become comfortable only in the company of moderation, and cast as radicals those zealots whose shrill cries aim to ignite the fires of outrage, and kindle the flames of a nation bound to action. We mock unbridled passion as the misplaced tool of the lunatic fringe.

Garrison suffered the same in his day, yet was amply rewarded for his pain with the satisfaction that he made an important difference; that the masses finally acknowledged his cause as just; and that his indelible mark on our country's history stands in stark contrast to the ugly stain of slavery. Time has not mended society, and there remain outrages in our midst today. But precious few voices crying in the night, and even fewer of us willing to tolerate them.

Tuesday, January 08, 2008

Blink

I generally don't read books when they first come out. I like to see if they pass the test of time, if people are still talking about them a year or two later. So I finally picked up Malcolm Gladwell's Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking, the follow-up to his successful The Tipping Point (which I plan to read a little later). Bending between the genres of business, culture, science and self-improvement, the title captures the premise--that in a nanosecond our brains can unconsciously process data and often make better decisions than it can given more time to gather and analyze information. First impressions count. And sometimes you can judge a book by its cover. (If you don't believe me, go to a university bookstore and look at the chemistry texts.)

Like most business books, I got it after the first chapter. But unlike the typical fare, the rest was filled with fascinating anecdotes and accounts of research which illuminates or adds color to his premise. There are many examples where less information, and relying on instinct, trumped the opposition, for instance in a war exercise frighteningly similar to what we're seeing today in Iraq. But also the opposite, where snap decisions can prove disastrous. The counter-intuitive conclusion is that for simple decisions, an analytical approach is better, but for more complex ones with more variables (like picking a spouse), instincts are often superior. Uhhh ... maybe, but don't marry the first cute girl that smiles at you.

The Blink idea rang true to me personally, because I've always done better when I trust my gut, and generally paid a price when I ignored it. I was particularly intrigued by research on reading faces--how people who have extensively studied facial expressions can accurately tell an extraordinary amount about a person very quickly. I've always felt the same thing, but been a little embarrassed by the snap judgments I tend to make about someone's character, after very little interaction, even though I think my track record is pretty good. I feel a little better now, knowing that there's a potential scientific basis for what I do.

I'm not ready to relinquish all my decisions to a blink. There will always be a place for research and analysis. And of course, eenie-meenie-miny-mo.

Saturday, January 05, 2008

Fallen Kindness

Last night the winds blew mightily—enough to uproot a 50-foot tree in our backyard, which managed to crash through our fence and completely block our neighbor’s driveway. Faced with such an inconvenience, my neighbor had every right to ask me what the heck I was going to do about this—at eight o’clock Saturday night—so that he could regain access to his house. Instead he turned his car around, bought a chain saw, set up a portable light, took his trailer out of the garage and immediately went to work. I had to race outside to keep up with him or he might have done the whole thing himself.

It was a great lesson in neighborliness, the kind that is often lost in this day and age. And I am reminded of the era of barn-raisings, when entire communities would gather together to assist one another. Christmas cards are nice. A plate of cookies now and then is even better. But there’s nothing like working together to create ties that bind.

I’ll miss that tree, but always fondly remember the experience. And with apologies to Robert Frost, sometimes broken fences make good neighbors.

Thursday, January 03, 2008

New Product Excursion

I tried three new products today. My ears have been ringing for three days. I knew it was an ear infection, because I used to have them as a kid. So instead of a more complicated trip to a doctor, I decided to stop by FirstMed, just down the street, to get a prescription for antibiotics. Was it as a good as going to a doctor? I waited 25 minutes and the magazine selection was reasonable, about like a doctor's office. The Nurse Practitioner was in her 20's, but she had one of those cool cone light things that let her look into my ears, just like a real doctor. (I'd like to have one of those myself.) Her diagnosis was unpretentious and to the point: "You've got infections in both ears." I was as confident in her assessment as if the Surgeon General himself had spoken. She gave me a prescription and I went my way. It was certainly more convenient for me. And it has to be cheaper for somebody--probably my insurance company. And it all just seems to make sense. These patient care centers are going to be a huge business in the next few years, replacing doctors for 75% of what ails us in Wal-Marts, Walgreens and strip malls. Good idea.

I went to the grocery store to get my prescription, so I had 15 minutes to kill. I wandered down the aisles, not really interested in buying anything. But I was fascinated by the beverage section, where the burgeoning water SKU's lure you with ever more exotic flavors and packaging. I settled on a bottle of "hint," which was billed as "Premium Essence Water with raspberry, lime and other natural flavors." Not sure what "Essence Water" is, or what "premium" got me, but after downing the bottle in-store, I concluded that beyond the marketing and wide-mouth packaging this was nothing special. I also noticed on the shelf bottles of "H2O Zip--caffeine-enhanced water." Finally, someone is willing to play this one straight--you want the buzz, but nothing else. So scrap the vitamin baloney and fruity tones and quit forcing drowsy shoppers to read the fine print to find out if it really has caffeine. This one makes it easy.

Finally, I wandered by Red Box, the portable DVD rental units that have become omnipresent in the past few years. I've seen and studied these many times, but because I've had a DVD store in my office for six years, I've never actually used one. I rented Eastern Promises, a brand-new thriller that Blockbuster was out of earlier this week. There was something very satisfying about only paying $1.07 for a one-night rental. Red Boxes are already a big idea, and now I know why. They deliver just what you need, without the unnecessary expense of capital, labor or packaging. I'll be using them again.

I do love capitalism, where Adam Smith's unseeing hand gooses the backside of eager entrepreneurs, resulting in fabulous trial and error, and the occasional emergence of really cool and useful products and services.

Wednesday, January 02, 2008

Photo Albums

Lanee and Rebecca have taken advantage of their mutual break time to consolidate all of our family photographs, which had been stashed away in neglected albums and boxes, mostly unseen. Now we have robust three-ring binders with acid-free pages filled with photos from roughly 1980 until 2001, organized chronologically.

I looked through them this morning, taking advantage of their efforts to relive so many memories. Of course there are hundreds of photos of the children when young, but also parents, grandparents, uncles and aunts, cousins, friends, neighbors and others. There are plenty of now-ridiculous styles to laugh at (what were we thinking with those glasses?), and many memories came flooding back, of family events, traditions and teams; of favorite shirts and old houses and cars; family vacations and the births of every child.

During holidays and family events, I expect that we will get out these albums, pass them around, laugh and share memories, ask questions and reminisce. I'm looking forward to that.

The photos end about 2001, when I got my first digital camera. We haven't printed many of those, but they can be found on hard drives and Flickr and a few random discs. I love technology, but once again I wistfully mourn the passing of an age-old tradition--family photo albums, and wonder how future generations will share their memories and relive their past.

Monday, December 31, 2007

Arizona Christmas



Since the family seems to be migrating to Phoenix, we decided to have Christmas there, and of course were greeted with exceptionally low temperatures. And naturally, it snowed like crazy back here, making for some epic days on the mountain for the everyone but me. Still, it was a pleasure being with family for Christmas, sharing too much food, gifts, board games, touch football and DVD's. Also watched the Arizona Cardinals beat the Falcons in overtime.

On Friday and Saturday Merritt, Sam and I ventured into a few canyons near Phoenix, in the Superstition Mountains. (Even though I was coming down with the flu and knew this would be a bad idea.) Ladder Canyon is not very technical (one rappel) but drops into Fish Creek and is an enjoyable jaunt. At the bottom we spotted a pack of 8-10 furry critters--thought they were ringtail cats at first but after a little web-work Merritt determined they were coatis, a racoon-like animal that travels in small bands. They saw us and scampered up the canyon wall. Ladder Canyon was named after a ladder that had been left there for years and become not only an eyesore, but a potential danger to anyone using it. So following the suggestion in Todd Martin's new book Arizona: Technical Canyoneering, we did our service project by hauling it up the canyon and out to the road, but now everyone will be left to wonder how Ladder Canyon got its name, and that will become a matter of lore, in which we will be anonymous participants.

After a frost-covered night in tents we headed up Tango Canyon, with no trail and challenging route-finding. Arizona canyons are unlike its Utah cousins--they are filled with cactus and century plants and all manner of nasty, noxious thistles. (Arizona state motto: Home of pretty rocks and sharp pointy things.) We started with a very tough early-morning climb, followed by a sweet down-canyon strip and then a long 2-3 mile bushwhack up Fish Creek back to camp. Along the way I got pricked or stuck at least a thousand times, sprained an ankle and slogged through freezing cold water. It was enough to make me glad I didn't take more people on this trip. But neither Sam nor Merritt complained, and at the end of the day we all marked it as a success.

By Sunday morning and out trip home I was a coughing, sneezing, shivering, hobbling wreck feeling every year of my age. And I don't regret a minute of it. Merry Christmas!

Monday, December 24, 2007

The Lost Carols



By the time I was ten years old I had memorized the words to a dozen or more Christmas carols--Silent Night, O Little Town of Bethlehem, Hark the Herald, Joy to the World and many others. We heard them in malls and stores, and on TV and in the movies, and we sang them in schools. From Thanksgiving to New Years each year provided a tutorial on the birth of Christ in song and spoken word.

In this age where we nervously check our speech at each public portal for any outward signs of religious belief, those days have passed. Of course Christmas carols in schools are long gone--except perhaps those innocuous tales of Frosty, Rudolf and Jingle Bells. But the traditional religious carols have also disappeared from any public place, from most radio and television, and from all the nooks and crannies of our secular lives, with the exception of churches and religious stations.

As a result, young people don't know Christmas carols any more. I'm guessing you would find more children know the words to satirical versions of "Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer" than to "Joy to the World." So families and carolers and other like-minded groups cannot spontaneously sing carols any more. And we have lost not only one of the great social bonds of a sacred holiday, but also a subtle but effective link of the Christmas season to its heritage as the celebration of the birth of Christ, the spirit of sacrifice, and the wonders of selfless love.

With every generation, as we ring out the old, the passing generation mourns the loss of traditional culture and the degeneration of societal values. And I suppose I am no different, and would rather rage against the dying of the light than go gently into that good night.

Friday, December 21, 2007

The Last Town on Earth


Finished a fascinating novel today--The Last Town on Earth. It takes place in Washington State in 1918--quite an extraordinary time. World War I was dragging on, fueling many activist protestors. The Women's Movement extended voting rights from state to state, while women began to work at traditional male jobs because of the war-driven labor shortages. The Industrial Revolution was in full swing. Labor unions were on the rise, sparking fierce conflicts from coast to coast. The Bolsheviks stormed St. Petersburg, while socialist groups and communities popped up across the U.S. And yet the most extraordinary, cataclysmic event of the year was unquestionably the outbreak of the Spanish Flu, which started in the U.S. and spread quickly throughout the world, killing somewhere between 30-100 million people, rivaling the Black Death plague of the 14th century as the worst medical tragedy in the world's history. (And on a personal note, my father was born on the seventh day of the year.)

The Last Town on Earth tells the story of a small, idealistic wood mill town in Washington that attempts to quarantine itself to protect against the disease. As the drama progresses, author Tom Mullen gently presents a range of moral dilemmas and social and psychological insights. Many won't find it very satisfying, as the practical and well-intentioned efforts of the town unravel like a Greek tragedy, leaving a trail of broken lives and ethical ambiguity. Yet it certainly provokes thought, reminiscent in my mind of Albert Camus' The Plague. I thought it was a compelling read.

After-dinner mint: In the final pages of the book, after the end of the novel, is the following addendum: "This book was set in Garamond, a typeface originally designed by the Parisian typecutter Claude Garamond (1480-1561) ... Garamond's distinguished romans and italics first appeared in Opera Ciceronis in 1543-44. The Garamond types are clear, open and elegant." I do enjoy this kind of unexpected learning. And I wonder if Garamond ever dreamed that he would be immortalized by his type face.

Thursday, December 20, 2007

Dead African Master Means Big Money for Me

Received this email yesterday which successfully got through my spam filters and which I found so audaciously, ridiculously, pathetically interesting and funny that I wanted to share it. Italics are mine, and I've edited it for length. I'm so excited about this opportunity. How thoughtful of tina_gambo0@latinmail.com to contact me.

WITH DUE RESPACT DEAR FRIEND,

PLEASE I NEEDED YOUR PERSONAL HELP IN THIS MATTER, THIS ALHAJI DAHIRU J MUSA, IS A CITIZEN OF ABIDJAN COTE'D'IVOIRE WHO DIED ON THE RECENT CRISES IN THAT COUNTRY, THE REBELS IN THE CITY OF BOAKERY BOMBED ALHAJI MUSA'RECIDENCE DURING ONE OF THEIR RAIDS, HE AND ALL THE MEMBERS OF HIS FAMILY WERE KILLED IN THAT BOMB INCIDENT, ALHAJI MUSA IS AN INTERNATIONAL BUSSINESS MAN AND A MAJOR SUPPLIER OF YAMAHA MACHINE PARTS IN THIS COUNTRY,

MR.DAHIRU J, MUSA, IN QUESTION, IS A CITIZEN OF ABIDJAN COTE'D'IVOIRE REPUBLIC OF IVORY COAST, WHY I MYSELF IS A REPUBLIC OF BURKINA FASO, WORKING WITH OUR CENTRAL BANK RESERVOIR ACCOUNT DEPOSITED PAYMENT SLIP SECURITY OFFICE, WHY MR.DAHIRU J MUSA, WAS CUSTOMER TO THIS OUR BANK WERE I AM WORKING, HE HAS BEING BANKING WITH THIS OUR BANK, BEFORE HE DIED IN THAT THERE COUNTRY RECENT CRISES BOMBED ATTACK,

SO BASED ON THIS, THE PERSONAL DRIVER TO THE DISEASED PERSON IN QUESTION, LATE MR.DAHIRU J, MUSA, WHOM HAS BEEN COMING TO OUR BANK HERE TO WITHDRAWAL MONEY AND DEPOSITED MONEY WITH HIS MASTER, DURING HIS MASTER LIFE TIME IN THIS WORLD, WHICH HE TOLD ME TO GO AHEAD FOR THE TRANSFERRING PROJECT, BECAUSE AS SOON AS THIS MONEY BEEN TRANSFER INTO YOUR POSITION BANK ACCOUNT, HE HAS HIS OWN PERCENTAGE WHICH WE AGREED UPON, AS SOME ONE WHOM GIVE ME THE INFORMATION’S ON SAID PROJECT, SO THAT EVERY ONE WHOM IS INVOLVE IN THIS TRANSFER PROJECT WILL BE HAPPY,

I CONTACTED YOU IN ORDER FOR US TO JOIN HAND AND MAKE SURE WE MOVE THIS MONEY IN OUR POSITION, JUST BEAR IN MINE THAT YOU ARE DEALING WITH A RELIABLE MAN WITH FAMILY, I AM GIVING YOU EVERY ASSURANCE IN THIS TRANSACTION, MY DEAR, WE WILL NOT ALLOWED THE BANK AUTHORITIES TO INHERIT THIS MONEY LIKE THAT, AS FAR AS THE PERSONAL DRIVER IS AWARE ABOUT THIS DEPOSITED MONEY BY HIS LATE MASTER,

THERE WILL BE NO PROBLEM MY DEAR, I AM WITH YOU UNTIL YOU HAVE THIS MONEY IN YOUR POSITION FOR OUR OWN GOOD OK.

PLEASE CONTACT ME THROUGH THIS MY ALTERNATIVE EMAIL ACCOUNT, (tina_gambo0@latinmail.com)

THANKS YOURS FAITHFULLY.
FROM MADAM KABOURE T. GAMBO.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

The Cathedral and the Bazaar

I read a pretty interesting article the other day entitled The Cathedral and the Bazaar. (I’m a sucker for creative titles, especially when they're intrinsic to the article, like this one.) Written in 2000 by legendary hacker, computer programmer and open source evangelist Eric Steven Raymond, The Cathedral and the Bazaar is a rather famous treatise on Raymond’s epiphanies about collaborative software development, ala Linus Torvaald’s Linux.

I am by no means literate in software theory. But in the article, Raymond enumerates a new set of development principles that, it seems to me, transcend the world of software. (I take no credit for this insight, as Keith McFarland made a similar point in an article he wrote using The Cathedral and the Bazaar to compare software development to strategic planning.) I won’t waste the kilobytes or your time by providing much detail or commentary, but consider the expansive truths behind some of Raymond's principles:

1. “Every good work of software starts by scratching a developer’s personal itch.” Yep, and every great work of art and every good business and …

2. “Good programmers know what to write. Great ones know what to rewrite.” Like any genealogy, the roots of greatness always go deeper.

3. “If you have the right attitude, interesting problems will find you.” Seneca said: “Luck is when preparation meets opportunity.”

4. “Release early. Release often. And listen to your customers.” This is the bazaar approach vs. the traditional construction of cathedrals.

5. “Given enough eyeballs, all bugs are shallow.” He calls this “Linus’s Law,” and it is actually a paraphrase of a more formal principle. This is the idea behind James Surowiecki’s interesting book, The Wisdom of Crowds.

6. “If you treat your beta-testers as if they’re your most valuable resource, they will respond by becoming your most valuable resource.” Pretty good leadership principle, methinks.

7. “The next best thing to having good ideas is recognizing good ideas from your users. Sometimes the latter is better.” More on leadership.

8. “Often, the most striking and innovative solutions come from realizing that your concept of the problem was wrong.” This sounds almost Einsteinian in its simple and humble profundity.

9. “Any tool should be useful in the expected way, but a truly great tool lends itself to uses you never expected.” I’m guessing chimpanzees discovered this long ago.

10. “To solve an interesting problem, start by finding a problem that is interesting to you.” We’ll all capable of doing remarkable things, but only when we’re really energized by our work.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Availability Bias

The other day I read about "Availability Bias," a concept that won a few psychologists a Nobel Prize in 2002. The idea here is that people tend to attach too much importance, validity, relevance or likelihood to factors that they are more aware of. For instance, you might read about lottery winners, which makes you believe that your chances of winning are greater than they are, and incite you with false expectations to play the lottery. Or you see the sensational media accounts of a few airplane crashes and develop an irrational fear of flying, when statistically your risk of dying is greater in an automobile.

Despite everything you hear about the human brain being the most powerful computer ever made, it is quite clear to me that most of us are not ruled by our brains, and generally don't act rationally. Availability Bias is just one example. Daniel Gilbert's recent book Stumbling On Happiness also illustrated this principle very nicely--we are terrible at predicting what will make us happy, or at least we aren't very good at acting upon what we might truly know in the deepest recesses of our rational minds.

I think we also tend to do a very poor job of generating the facts to make a decision. The truth is, most of us don't want to be bothered with the potential for a major shift in our perspective. So the Right tunes in to Fox News for decision-making data, and the Left to Jon Stewart. (Yep, that's true!) Most people fear the other side, both those on it, but even more, the possibility that they might be holding a smidgeon of truth.

A corollary to this is the filters we employ to automatically sort and interpret all data based on what we already have chosen to believe. This is historically true in science, enough to fuel an unhealthy skepticism for all those with enough temerity to challenge the prevailing thought. But it's equally true in religion, politics and sports. We all look way too hard for corroborating data, and our fervor leads us to find honor and shame split neatly along party lines, and the image of the Virgin Mary grown onto the side of a cow.

Now I don't think it's a terrible thing to follow your heart, for the mind is certainly prone to error. But it seems to me that we ought to be smart enough to know who is leading the dance at any given time, and to recognize the difference between heart and head. The brain is indeed a computer with a lot of RAM. Unfortunately, like many people with their PC's, it never gets used for anything more challenging than MySpace.

Saturday, December 08, 2007

Pay it Forward

When starting this consulting career, I figured it might help to have a little credibility for prospective clients who don't know me personally. I belong to a business network called LinkedIn.com. It tends to show up prominently in Google searches, so I asked a few friends on my network if they would be kind enough to write a recommendation for me and post it on LinkedIn. They did so. And as you might expect (given that I hand-picked them!) they were very kind. I recognized that I'm not really deserving of such praise, but nevertheless the nice words were very gratifying to me.

This got me to thinking about my potential to brighten up someone's day. I thought about all the many people I have come in contact with, through business, church or community, who have impressed me and made a positive impact on my life. And I decided to try to spend some time every day letting someone know, either face to face, on the phone, by email, letter or the web. I put it on my task list every day to remind me. It's been fun.

Several times I have used LinkedIn, which has a tool for recommendations. It's been funny--almost every time I've written one, I've gotten one back in return. (I'm going to start changing my practice so this doesn't happen!) I guess people feel an obligation. But in any event, it's been a nice experience, doesn't take long and maybe makes both sides feel a little better about life.

I guess it's the same principle behind the old-fashioned thank you note. Still feels good to get those. And equally good to give them.

Sunday, December 02, 2007

Interesting Quotes: Part 2


"When the eagles are silent, the parrots begin to jabber."
--Churchill

"Lots of folks confuse bad management with destiny."
--Ken Hubbard

"Our doubts are traitors and make us oft lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt."
--Shakespeare

"I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much."
--Mother Teresa

"Do or not do. There is no try."
--Yoda

"Whatever a man does, he must do first in his mind."
--Albert Szent-Gyorgyi

"Results! Why man, I have got a lot of results. I know several thousand things that will not work."
--Edison

"Necessity never made a good bargain."
--Benjamin Franklin

"Cats are intended to teach us that not everything in nature has a function."
--Garrison Keillor

"I owe my success to having listened respectfully to the very best advice, and then going away and doing the exact opposite."
--G. K. Chesterton

"I don't want to achieve immortality through my work. I want to achieve it through not dying."
--Woody Allen

"Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the former."
--Albert Einstein

"Education is what survives when what has been learned has been forgotten."
-- BF Skinner

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Home Alone

Once again I find myself working at home and already I have learned several critical truths:

1. It is entirely possible for me to eat something every 15 minutes over a ten-hour stretch. Even though my stomach is long past asking for food, going downstairs to get a handful of peanuts or dried fruit always seems like a good idea.

2. Canyoneering and eBay are always more interesting than management strategy.

3. If the phone rings, I have to answer it, even if I know it's either for Rebecca or a computer wanting my opinion.

4. Inc. is a really good magazine.

5. It is better to change into real clothes before 10 a.m. You never know who might come by. Plus, you feel more like you have a real job.

This is going to take some practice and discipline.

Friday, November 23, 2007

Thankfulness

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. It is such an unassuming concept--a day to give thanks. Not self-serving in the least. It carries a little history, back to the pilgrims and all, despite how warped and ignorant our perspective on the events of those days may have become. It's not very commercial, except perhaps for the purveyors of turkeys, cranberries and yams. And most importantly, it's a traditional time to gather family and friends at our home.

I love that we keep our traditions alive. We had about 15 people for the 9 a.m. Turkey Bowl. It turned out to be great football weather and we had a terrific time, although I am just now (at 1:00 a.m. Friday) starting to feel sore. Merritt, Angelica, Sam and I were joined by various friends and neighbors.

Dinner was plentiful and delicious, as always. All the traditional stuff, headlined by a 20 lb. fresh turkey Sam got from his work. The family was joined by two of Lanee's schoolmates (including her roomie); Eric, Maricruz and kids (for the third year in a row); Fred Butterick (second or third year); and Brandon's friend Steve (second year). Once you come to our home for Thanksgiving, you are invited for life. It's especially nice to have some folks take advantage of the offer!

The Olympics featured a new sport this year--bocce ball. And after three hours of games, Fred played his guitar and we sang along to tunes from Billy Joel, The Beatles, Bob Dylan, Elton John, CCR, Barenaked Ladies, Janis Joplin, The Eagles and more. Spent an hour looking at ads before I decided I didn't really want to shop at 5 a.m. Watched Transformers, which put me to sleep. And in between all of this, watched a little football here and there.

Couldn't really ask for a better day. I love the traditions. And tonight I give thanks for Thanksgiving.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Humanitarianism

Yesterday I volunteered at the Humanitarian Center, spending four hours assembling about 1500 cleaning kits(bleach, bags, soaps, brushes, garbage bags and a nifty mask!). We ran an assembly line, and I don't remember the last time I worked that hard, moving boxes of detergent and bleach and pulling buckets and other forms of manual, menial labor. I was more sore after four hours than from spending all day working my way through a canyon.

But it felt good to be serving. I kept thinking of the people in Bangladesh which were affected by the cyclone. Thousands dead, 270,000 homes destroyed, but over 650,000 homes damaged. I tried to think of how welcome it would be, with stores sold out for miles, to have one of these cleaning buckets delivered to your house. I don't know if ours will be sent there or not, but the center made over 5000 yesterday (a record, by the way, for four shifts) and some day, some where, they will do some good.

So it was a contented soreness, the kind that comes from good work well done. And while I nearly strained my shoulder patting myself on the back, I was compelled to think about how little service I actually do, and I committed to trying to give a little more. It's only cleaning supplies. But spending four hours to assist in helping 1500 people--beats watching a football game.

Sunday, November 18, 2007

No Girly Girls Here

Had another daddy/daughter weekend, this time in the North Wash area, about 25 miles south of Hanksville. Angelica, Lanee, Brad McLaws and I drove down late Thursday night and camped at the Leprechaun Canyon trailhead. Very nice to have Brad along, as he always makes for lively and spirited discussion. He sees the world differently from most, but always with a thoughtful and reasoned point of view. Plus, his strong will (some might call it pig-headedness) invites debate at every corner. The drive down passed quickly with social and political discourse mingled with an occasional poem that the girls and I would recite from memory.

As we were heading out Friday morning we ran into Bette Steffen-Weis, a neat lady that I'd canyoneered with previously, and her friend Joan. We all headed toward East Leprechaun, which was great fun and involved a few short raps and plenty of downclimbing, squeezing, shimmying, chimneying and scraping our way down canyon. At the bottom we did a little exploring up Belfast Boulevard, which is the last section of the Main Fork of the Leprechaun, and is extremely tight, dark and a little intimidating. All in all, East Lep was a fun challenge. I was so pleased with my girls, who thought it was the coolest canyon ever and scampered down the chutes and squeezes without a drop of help from me.

We had a little scare when Brad pulled a deadman anchor out of the ground and free-fell about 18 feet. He landed with his butt on the ground, his back (protected by his pack) hitting hard against the rock wall and his head (protected by his helmet) also smacking the wall. Should you wear a helmet? Yes, always. I'm sure Brad's saved him from a cracked skull at best, and possibly something much worse. As it was, he was very sore and cut up a bit. Very fortunate.

Betty was with a group that included Tom Jones, who runs canyoneeringusa.com and who we canyoned with in Escalante in September. Tom came down to say hello and I joined them all around their fire for a few hours. Met a lot of folks whose names and postings I have seen on the canyoneering sites.

Saturday we did Constrychnine, which has several big raps, including one down a fluted chamber which is really cool. We got a late start and made it out of the canyon just as it was turning dark. It was great to have Brad along because it turns out he's really good with a topographical map and after a couple of debates along the way I just turned all the route-finding over to him and he was totally studly.

Had dinner at Blondie's in Hanksville (don't ever eat there!) and made it home late. It was so much fun being with my girls. They are always good-natured, work hard, never complain and truly enjoy being in these canyons every bit as much as me. I take great pleasure in watching them climb and rappel and squeeze though these narrow walls as we enthusiastically explore new terrain.

Monday, November 12, 2007

It's no longer Clear (Play)

Today was my last day as CEO of ClearPlay. For many reasons it was time to leave, including my general career wanderlust--I usually get bored doing anything after about a year, and it has been over six years in the same job. So I turned the reins over to Matt and Lee and today I informed the troops. They were surprised but I didn't leave much time for sentimentality, as I made the announcement, spoke my peace, made the rounds shaking hands and saying thanks and then walked out the door. I will continue to serve on the board of directors and will help with business development relationships I have cultivated over the years, but I have cleaned out my office and am officially moving on.

So new vistas. I am going to start working with Keith McFarland (www.mcfarlandstrategy.com), conducting three-day strategic planning sessions with mid-sized companies (typically sales between $20 - $500 million). I attended a session last week and really enjoyed it. I like and respect Keith and think his method is much more relevant for today's business than traditional strategic planning, which is slow, cumbersome and elitist. Keith has a book coming out in January and has been quite tied up with its release, so unfortunately my gigs won't start until March. So in the meantime I will prepare myself plus look for some short-term consulting projects.

It means a little more travel than I am used to, but also a lot more days off. If all works out as planned, it will be a nice lifestyle and give me time to develop a few other ideas as well. If it doesn't work out, I will sell pencils on the sidewalk, or perhaps buy a monkey and teach it to dance to my accordion (which I will also have to buy, and then learn to play).

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Ramblin' Man

Back home from a busy week of traveling. Monday and Tuesday I was in Colorado Springs staying at the legendary Broadmoor Hotel, a perennial Mobil 5-Star resort (of about 35 in the U.S.). I was attending a conference there and the hotel and amenities were included, including my upgrade to a suite, which was way too much room for me. But the highlight may have been the food, and for two days I dined on $120 dinners and gourmet breakfasts and I basically ate everything that was placed in front of me, plus some stuff that I had to reach for.

Wednesday I flew to Grand Rapids, Michigan, which felt a little like going to my ancestral homeland--Dad Farley grew up in the Upper Peninsula, Grandpa worked at the Ford plant there and a few generations back hail from Holland, MI. I spent three days doing a management strategy session with a company called FlexFab that makes silicone hoses. I'm always fascinated to see how much money is made on the boringest products. It was a rewarding session, but made for long days, which started at 7:30a and finished around 11 p.m.

Several other travel highlights:
1. I ate at PB&J's in the St. Louis Airport. Yes, they serve peanut butter sandwiches, in various versions. I had mine on whole wheat bread with bananas and honey. They gave it to me in a brown lunch bag, which was perfect.
2. At the Wayne County Airport in Detroit I got a muffin from Starbucks and the young, African-American girl behind the counter was so nice and friendly that I told her she made my day. Couldn't have been more than 19, but smiled at everyone and asked how their days were. Really cool to see that, and to realize that it can be done.
3. Sat next to a woman on a flight who was a semi-professional pool player. She gave me some good pointers, and now I'm eager to play. Sometimes I do wish I had a table again, but that would require an addition to the house. Seems complicated.

Sunday, November 04, 2007

An Extra Hour

Woke up at 5:45 this morning and couldn't sleep because my body, unaware of Daylight Savings Time, said it was 6:45 and time to get up. Jazz was the same, wandering into the bedroom about 5:30 and wondering where everyone was and the cause for such laziness. So we both went downstairs and I let her out and she came back confused because the paper wasn't there, which is something I could hardly explain to humans, much less a dog.

Not yet hungry and with no paper to read, I stood and pondered for a moment what to do with this extra hour I had been granted, and found myself contemplating the gift of time we have all been given. We all enter this world with two great endowments--time and the choice of how to use it. Yes, some are given more time than others, and some have more choices. But the quality of our lives can be measured by our stewardship over these gifts.

Looking back on the past 50 years, I realize that I have not fully appreciated this gift of time. I'm not suggesting that I should have squeezed more activity into my waking hours, although in many cases, that is true. (I have always loved the Irish adage: When God made time, he made plenty of it.) No, I don't mind letting time drift by occasionally, unencumbered by activity or production. But I'd like to bask in that leisure, living fully in the moment, completely connected to my environment, or even my mental state. I'd like to improve the quality of my time.

I also wish I had prioritized my time a little better. Some things could have been left undone. For many years I think I allocated way too much to being successful and making money, at the expense of things more dear, because that is what is expected of people who have those capabilities. But regret is probably our most wasteful indulgence, and so instead of wallowing in past failures, I will try to look ahead, not knowing how much time I have left, and thoughtfully consider this extraordinary gift and how I plan to use it.

I will start with the rest of my extra hour.

Wednesday, October 31, 2007

1491

I read a fascinating book on vacation: "1491--New Revelations of the Americas Before Columbus." Science journalist Charles Mann does an excellent job of summarizing research over the past 50 years which makes a convincing case that when Columbus and the first explorers arrived in the New World, the western hemisphere was heavily populated by societies as innovative, advanced, organized, cultured and developed as the great civilizations of Europe, Asia and the Middle East.

Reading about the American Indians, the Mayans, the Olmecs, the Aztecs and the Incas, I got a very different understanding of these civilizations, including their beginnings, their histories and the reasons for their declines. The author manages to cite conflicting research points of view, something that you would never get from an academic, only from a journalist.

These people were anything but primitive. For example: Mesoamerican Indians invented maize, the basis for modern-day corn. It didn't grow naturally, and would have required many iterations of agricultural refinement. But in terms of harvest weight, it has become the world's most important crop, spreading quickly throughout the world after Columbus. Maize was vitally important to the native populations, and was the foundation for advanced and complex societies, in many cases taking on a religious significance.

Further, early inhabitants of Mexico and Central America developed tomatoes (no, it wasn't the Italians!), peppers, most of the world's squashes and many varieties of beans. Some have estimated that Indians developed three-fifths of the crops now in cultivation. They also invented, on their own, without the benefit of cross-pollenization so common in the East, writing, astronomy and mathematics, including the zero as a value before the same development occurred in the Eastern world.

Definitely recommended reading, if you like that sort of thing.

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Red Sox Sweep

If you aren't really into baseball, you wouldn't understand. There is something captivating about following a team closely. You get to know the players--not just by name and face and position, but how they play. You begin to relate to their emotions. You see the worry in their faces, or share their confidence with every pitch. You anticipate each strategic move by the manager, which gives you the right and the moral authority to challenge his decisions. You are a dedicated fan.

This position has its price. You must mourn with those that mourn. Every loss is painful. A post-season defeat can ruin your day.

And also, the rewards. And so it is the with all of us Red Sox fans, who suffered through so many painful seasons, wearing our agony and frustration like a badge of honor, and watching with anger as the Yankees paraded their dynasty, year after year. We collectively hated George Steinbrenner, and somehow managed to resent even venerable players like Joe Torre, Derek Jeter and Mariano Rivera.

Now it is our time to look down on these lesser teams with the compassion afforded a winner. After the Red Sox finished their four-game sweep of the Rockies, we exulted in the joy of victory. And somehow, we resisted the temptation to squirt Diet Coke around the room like it was champagne.

What a pleasure it was to watch Mike Lowell, class act that he is, steadily produce in all four games. And to be in awe of Jonathan Papelbon, so intimidating on the mound yet such a goofball off of it. Or Dustin Pedroia, sure bet for AL Rookie of the Year, playing hard-nosed, scrappy, clutch ball every night. And young Jacoby Ellsbury, who started the year in Double-A and was only called up to the Sox in September, then found himself starting in centerfield for the Series and batting over .400 while leading off in Games 3 and 4.

We got wins from starting pitchers Josh Beckett and Curt Schilling, the best young and old clutch pitchers in baseball, and from Dice-K, fresh from the Japanese league, and Jon Lester, who a year ago was taking chemotherapy cancer treatments.

Yet we can't overlook David "Big Papi" Ortiz or Manny Ramirez, whose Herculean efforts got the Sox past the Indians to get into the Series, or Jason Varitek, who directed the pitching staff like a maestro, or Kevin Youkalis, who never complained about riding the pine when we dropped the DH in Colorado, despite hitting .500 in the post-season, or even J.D. Drew and Julio Lugo, who finally delivered with some timely hitting in the post-season.

It was an October to remember, watching Game 1 in Mexico, hurrying from the airport to catch the end of Game 2, and basking in Games 3 and 4 in the cushioned box seats of my living room sharing shouts and commentary with Sam. Thank you Red Sox, for such a wonderful time.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Adios Amigos

Sat by the beach this morning and read until it was time to check out of the hotel. Turns out the hotel beaches are prime areas for walk-by vendors to peddle their wares. Unfortunately, one of the first had some lovely blankets which Rebecca liked and bought, and with that purchase sitting prominently under our umbrella all the merchants smelled blood in the water and came by with increasing frequency to sell us more blankets and then rugs (from the blanket guys father--a referral!) and jewelry and dresses and maracas and carved seals and even muffins.

We did want to buy something for the kids, but most of the things we saw in the shops were so cheap, and the nice things, in contrast, were expensive, and it seemed like we couldn't agree on anything, so basically left every store empty-handed.

It was an enjoyable trip, and it is easy to see why people like to vacation in Puerto Vallarta. It is absolutely beautiful, with lush green mountainous forests rising up less than a half-mile from the beaches. The people are friendly, helpful and quick to laugh--especially if you speak Spanish to them, although almost all are bilingual. The prices are low and the services excellent, including the bus system. And there are plenty of tours for those traditional tourists who want to swim with dolphins or parasail or ride a pirate ship with real-life buccaneers and wenches.

But I think I would do it differently next time. I would come ready to explore more of the rivers. And I would maybe rent a car or motorcycle and head into more remote parts of the jungle to see some traditional villages or maybe I'd take surfing lessons and go scuba diving a couple of times. And I think I'd find a very private beach to hang out on for a day, with book in hand and my head resting on a sand pillow. And finally, in a perfect world (where I was a little closer to perfection) I'd speak the language, even a little, which would add a new dimension to the experience.

Great to go, but always good to be home. Thanks ever so much to my wonderful children for their thoughtfulness and generosity.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Las Caletas

Not knowing of any better alternatives, we took another tour today, this one to Las Caletas, which first gained notoriety by famed Hollywood director John Huston living there. Huston's son Danny, who I met and talked to at Sundance a few years ago, was married at Caletas. In fact, Huston's decision to shoot Night of the Iguana in Puerto Vallarta in 1963 was the spark that eventual led to making it a resort community.

So we headed to the marina first thing in the morning and caught a catamaran headed for the ancient Greek Isle of Lesbos, or so it seemed, since the boat (and Las Caletas tour) were dominated by passengers off the Olivia cruise ship. Olivia is billed as "The premiere travel and entertainment company for Lesbians," although I wonder how many other lesbian travel and entertainment companies they had to beat out for that honor. And if this was the premier group, I'd hate to see the cattle cars, because there were some pretty scrappy looking women there.

It did make for some awkward moments on the boat, where the crew employed their standard routines, which included couples' contests. There were three which competed in a pop-the-balloon game, and the only "traditional" couple came in a distant last. Based on this limited sample, I would be concerned about the relative fate of the heterosexual species, except of course for our unique ability to procreate.

Moving on, Las Caletas was quite enchanting, like a tropical paradise, and we snorkeled and swam and I found a quiet place away from all the women and laid on the beach reading while Rebecca got a massage. And we ate well once again then back on the catamarran and to Puerto Vallarta. Finally got to the beach outside our hotel where we lounged and read and then had dinner and spent a quiet evening watching the Sox crush the Rockies in Game One of the World Series.

OK, I confess that while at Las Caleta the knave in me considered gathering the straights to challenge the Olivians to beach games, like Red Rover, or chicken fights. I just wanted to see how we'd do. But it seemed like an awkward thing to get started and some of these women were very large plus I feared that it could start something of a race war, so like many of my terrible ideas, I wisely let this one pass privately, but found the notion quite amusing as it danced around in my head.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Tour-ists

Played the tourist today, in that we took an actual "tour." The most interesting thing I could find in the guidebooks was an "Outdoor Adventure," so we signed up. Met at the marina and took a fast boat to Boca de Tomatlon, then proceeded into the jungle, which involved hiking, mule riding, multiple zip lines, rappeling down a 98' waterfall, dropping into pools and crossing a few rope bridges. The other tourists seem to think it was quite thrilling, and Rebecca enjoyed it as well. I found it mildly entertaining, but not the least bit exciting, except perhaps the first five seconds of the first zip line. I realize how much more adrenaline I get from being personally responsible for my fate when I do canyons. The problem was, I completely trusted these guys and their multiple redundant systems. I guess I'd prefer a little more uncertainty in my adventures.

Had a very nice dinner at Si Senor, with fabulous papaya pico de gallo and an outstanding array of salsas. We were also serenaded by three fat mariachis, which I found soothing and entertaining, but mainly made me want to watch the movie El Mariachi again.

Funny thing, wherever we go people see me and my dark complexion and start talking to me in Spanish. My confused and helpless look quickly reveals their mistake. Then Rebecca jumps in with her amazing fluency, and immediately the credibility I'd lost is restored to the family. I think everyone treats us better because she speaks the language so well, and she has been regularly complimented. In fact, her accent is so good that after she spoke to one driver, he would address the crowd of tourists in English, then translate for her in Spanish, not realizing she was bi-lingual. All the guys especially seem to like her and are quick to laugh and joke and help in any way. And I think they wonder what she is doing with a loser like me that speaks only in English. I can live with the ridicule because her mastery of the language makes me feel completely justified in leaving most arrangements in her hands, which frees mine for my specialty--goofing off.

The weather is beautiful and the food terrific and I have eaten and slept so much that I feel like a fat Mexican (who cannot speak Spanish).

Monday, October 22, 2007

Watering

Day Two in Puerto Vallarta and it began with a vacation tradition--sleeping in. OK, it was only until eight o'clock (seven in Utah) but it seemed shamefully indolent to me, which I took a little delight in. We had the hotel buffet, which was wonderful, and besides fresh fruit and pastries I dined on funky dishes with cauliflower and eggplant and other pleasant surprises.

The weather had cleared so after breakfast we took the bus to a river outside of town, which poured down from the mountainous jungle that surrounds Puerto Vallarta. We hiked up about a mile, walking sometimes on a trail, but more at the edge of the river, jumping over moss-slicked boulders. We were soon dripping with sweat and took the first opportunity to take a dip. Eventually we arrived at a gorgeous waterfall--maybe 50 feet high. We languished on the rocks and swam in the pool and under the falls. There was a cable that stretched up a rock wall and using it, along with moki steps, craggy edges and external tree roots I was able to climb to the top despite the greasy covering on the rocks, although going up turned out to be much easier than coming down, which did make my adrenaline surge.

Downriver and back on the ocean, where we hit a quiet, white sand beach we had read about. After a few hours in the pleasant, warm water we were back on a bus heading to the Eden River. We turned down the over-priced cab ride for the benefit of a 2.5 mile hike up the mountain to our destination--a restaurant along a lovely river, where again we swam and then ate. Not up for another long walk, we snagged a ride down with a tour truck, disembarking at the sleeply little town on the coast, and then catching a bus back to the hotel.

By the way, I now know where all the 80's era boxy video games go--the stuff you used to find in mall arcades. They are in Barcelo Mismaloya, on sidewalk patios and in concrete arcades. With faded graphics and flaking paint, the kids drop in a couple of pesos to get their perfectly acceptable substitute to America's XBox and Nintendo Wie.

Sunday, October 21, 2007

Welcome to Puerto Vallarta

Arrived in Puerto Vallarta last night. Hadn't gotten out of the airport when we were stopped and asked which hotel we were going to. I smelled a rat, but when he said we had a complementary ride to our hotel it got Rebecca's attention. He brought us to Jose, who was a very nice guy and told us all about the town before he invited us to sit through a "vacation club" presentation, and right then and there I was filled with dread and wanted to run out of the airport as fast as possible but he said the magic words (in third person)--"and you'll help Jose get a little commission"--and so it seemed like some sort of Mexican welfare project which we could hardly refuse, especially when he was smiling so nice and nearly hyperventilating with anticipation and kindly offered to pick us up from church and give us great prices on an island tour and yada yada yada. And that's how we found ourselves having breakfast with a hundred other cheap, pathetic tourists paying dearly for their freebies at the Villa la Something and getting pushed into a sales funnel where we were all but stripped naked and fitted for our sales potential and while several of the representatives were very nice the big sales closer was like a Mexican Gilbert Godrey and yelled at us for an hour and wrote at least 150 numbers down on a paper with a green felt pen and never wrote down a single explanation of what the numbers represented but the correct answer to his seemingly endless equation was that it was a "no-brainer," and both of us being brain-dead Rebecca and I applied a different calculus and politely declined and if only that were that but there was more and finally we left under duress and emotionally battered and if anyone ever asks you if they can give you absolutely anything in exchange for sitting through a "This is NOT a Time Share" presentation tell them you would rather have a needle poked in your eyes. Or better yet, poked in his.

On a lighter note, the Fiesta Americana Hotel is very nice and this afternoon we went downtown to the boardwalk in town, which has the most eclectic and extraordinary array of bronze statues. Ate at Jim Jack's Fish Shack, which was small but very good. Great fresh produce, particulary the jicama, cucumbers, avocado and pico de gallo. Then back to the hotel to watch the Red Sox win Game 7 over the Indians, an event hardly marred by the television commentary being entirely in Spanish, which to me sounded like blah blah blah blah Fenway Park blah blah blah blah Manny Ramirez, etc. But the language spin was enough to make Rebecca sort of dig it.

And I should also mention that everyone says it is sunny every day here and hardly ever rains for more than an hour a day except since we arrived because there is a tropical storm somewhere off the coast and so it has been steadily drizzling and overcast. But that didn't stop some of the guests at our hotel from laying out on the poolside chaise lounges, which seems like an excruciating waste of time but still infinitely more enjoyable than discussing vacation opportunities with Gilbert Godfrey.

Saturday, October 20, 2007

Favorite Quotes, Part 1

When I find a quote I like, I save it and put it in my email signature for a day or so. Some people have asked me for these, so I thought I'd occasionally put a few in my blog. One of my goals in life is to come up with a few pithy and well-said ideas that will survive my mortality. You ever hear of "Life's a Beach"?

"The years between fifty and seventy are the hardest. You are always being asked to do more, and you are not yet decrepit enough to turn them down. " --T.S. Eliot

"Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice.” --Shakespeare, Hamlet (Polonius)

"The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore, all progress depends on the unreasonable man." --George Bernard Shaw

"Nothing endures but change." -- Heraclitus

"We did not change as we grew older; we just became more clearly ourselves." -- Lynn Hall

"Our life is what our thoughts make it." --Marcus Aurelius Antonius

"Man is the Only Animal that Blushes. Or needs to." --Mark Twain

"A classic is something that everybody wants to have read and nobody wants to read." --Mark Twain

"Always do right. This will gratify some people and astonish the rest.” --Mark Twain

"There is something fascinating about science. One gets such wholesale returns of conjecture out of such a trifling investment of fact." --Mark Twain


“In looking for people to hire, you look for three qualities: Integrity, intelligence, and energy. If they do not have the first, then the other two will kill you.” --Warren Buffett


"Only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live." --Dorothy Thompson, journalist


"Everything I did in my life that was worthwhile I caught hell for." --Earl Warren

"Drive thy business or it will drive thee." --Benjamin Franklin

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." --Henry David Thoreau, Walden.

“I don't want any yes-men around me. I want everyone to tell me the truth, even if it costs them their jobs.” --Samuel Goldwyn

"The ancestor of every action is a thought." --Emerson

"The only way to avoid being miserable is not to have enough leisure to wonder whether you are happy or not." --George Bernard Shaw

"I always wanted to be somebody, but I should have been more specific." --Lily Tomlin

"If a man hasn't discovered something that he will die for, he isn't fit to live." --Martin Luther King Jr.

"People only see what they are prepared to see." --Ralph Waldo Emerson

"The most valuable thing you can make is a mistake - you can't learn anything from being perfect." --Adam Osborne

"Sticks in a bundle are unbreakable." --African Proverb

"Always bear in mind that your own resolution to success is more important than any other one thing."
--Abraham Lincoln

Saturday, October 13, 2007

Game 2

The Diamondbacks lost to the Rockies last night in 11 innings. Sam and I sat high above home plate. It was a disappointing loss, but the Rockies played better baseball and deserved to win. Before the game we ate at the Hard Rock Cafe and watched the Red Sox crush the Indians, which was a terrific pre-game meal. More observations from Chase Field:

1. Take Me Out to the Ball Game is one of the great American songs. It's a catchy tune with lyrics that are totally unpretentious in their homespun homage to America's national pasttime. It's one of the coolest traditions in sports that everyone stands and sings it during the seventh inning stretch. But it does make me wish they still sold Cracker Jacks at games.

2. Eric Byrnes is the only major leaguer I've ever seen who plays gay. (Not that there's anything wrong with that.) He's a pretty good hitter and the fans love him but the guy plays the game like he's auditioning for a spot on Will and Grace. He runs past first with his legs bouncing out to the side, falls down after a hard swing or a throw from the outfield, then rolls in the dirt then pops up with a flair. Plus, the guy wears black socks pulled up to his knees, and you get the feeling he would wear them mid-thigh if the rules allowed. I don't think I'm homophobic, but in 40 years of watching baseball, I've never seen anything like it.

3. I was surprised to see a group of fans highlighted on the big screen holding letter-cards that spelled out GOD BACKS. I puzzled over this for a few seconds, wondering about the religious significance of the message. Then I realized that their spacing was off a little, and they were really writing GO DBACKS. I guess it was a sign.

Friday, October 12, 2007

Baseball in October

We're in Phoenix this weekend and last night Sam and I attended Game 1 of the National League Championship Series between the Arizona Diamondbacks and the Colorado Rockies. I love the atmosphere at play-off games--the stadium is electric with enthusiasm and energy. But given that I don't have a strong passion for either team, I found myself drawn to random observations throughout the game. Here are a few:

1. There is something very cathartic and unifying about booing the umpire. After a highly questionable call at a crucial time, the crowd raised their collective voices in a prolonged booing of the 2nd base umpire. (They also threw stuff on the field, causing the game to be temporarily suspended.) It was fun to join in on the booing, although I have heard it done with more enthusiasm and creativity in Philadelphia and New York, where after centuries of practice rudeness has been elevated to an art form. For a moment I felt badly for the umpire, but quickly recovered my senses and rejoined the chorus. I wonder why no one ever boos at home, like when your teenager doesn't do chores, or your husband leaves the toilet paper roll empty.

2. The lower section baseline rows in modern stadiums are designed so that if the person in front of you is exactly the same height you will be able to see the field, from the foul line and above, which seems a rather idealistic design with little margin for random distribution of individual verticality. From the top of the head of the person in front, another eight inches will block the view from your foul line to the outfield fence--basically the entire field. If the person in front of you is wearing a baseball cap, that will add two inches, or 25% of the field. If the person is 6'4" or higher and wearing a cap, and you are, say, ME, then you will not see anything. I looked up and down the stands and observed how many people were craning their necks to see the game. I had the passing thought that outlawing baseball caps at games would increase the viewable field coverage substantially for all people on the lower levels, but quickly realized that would be un-American.

3. There is a line in God Bless America that I had never really thought about and struck me as kind of silly:
From the mountains, to the prairies,
To the oceans, white with foam
God bless America, My home sweet home.
I suppose Irving Berlin was struggling to find a word that rhymes with home. "Roam" had already been popularized in Home on the Range. "Comb" was hard to fit in. "Gnome" would be a stretch, and so on. So he settled on "oceans, white with foam," and I'm sure his wife said the song would never take, and if he had any idea that it would be sung at thousands of sporting events for many decades he would have spent more time on it and come up with something better. I bet he never even considered "loam" or "chrome." Maybe we should update the song for today's pro sports scene. Can anyone say "Dome"?

Sunday, October 07, 2007

Priorities

Lately I've been plagued by too many priorities and not enough time to do them all. ClearPlay is at a critical juncture, and I always feel compelled to try to do a little bit more, and nearly always finish the day before my To Do List is complete. I'm really anxious to do a small test of my nursing home non-profit. I'd like to take my "Where are They Now?" idea to the next step. And I've had an offer to do some lucrative work for a friend, which requires some diligence on my part, and an initial trip next month.

And there are plenty of other good things to do. We've had company lately, and it seems like people should always be the top priority--this week it's Gene and Lorraine Clark, which has been nice. I think it's good to have some semblance of a social life, and friendships take time. I want to be a better home teacher, and do more to serve. I like to work out about five times a week--been doing it so many years that I feel guilty without it. I try to keep up my blog, even when I'm not inspired (sorry). I have vowed to finish my script by Thanksgiving. There's some correspondence to keep up with. I'm in the middle of reading three books. And there are mundane things around the house--reseed the lawn, clean out the cellar, move stuff to the attic.

And then there's the fun stuff. There are plenty of canyons and hikes I want to do, and this winter I hope to snowboard more, and maybe do some snowshoeing. It's baseball post-season, and Sam and I have been watching quite a few games. Next week we're going to Phoenix to see two NLCS games live. There's Fantasy Football, and as the first-place team I have to maintain family bragging rights. And I like to watch games Sunday and Monday nights, and BYU on Saturdays. I like to catch at least one DVD a week, and I have over 100 classic DVD's on my Blockbuster Online, and I'm in the middle of Prison Break Season One and The Office Season Three. And my half dozen magazines, including the completely self-indulgent Sports Illustrated. And I promised to do Sundance and review movies in January. All frivolous and, arguably, wastes of time.

Needless to say, not everything is getting done. A few lessons learned:
1. Maybe you can do anything, but you definitely can't do everything--at least not at one time.
2. Start early. At 50, I'm starting to feel the sand at the bottom of the hourglass.
3. Make conscious priority decisions, and live by them. I've tried to do this in life, mostly unsuccessfully.
4. Set goals. Translate them into weekly and daily goals.
5. Don't forget to enjoy life. Do your best, but recognize how you're built. If you have more ambition than reasonably possible, don't beat yourself up. Celebrate successes.