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December 28, 2005

Those Things On the Wall Really Work

I broke down, and decided to try a simple experiment in my cubicle. I wanted to see if hanging one of those "insiprational" type of posters would actually affect either my mood or my behaviour.

To my surprise, it did...

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leadership.jpg
I thought about it for a while, and decided that one of the standard issue posters with a mountain in the background and something like the word "Leadership" and a catch phrase underneath wasn't my style. Plus, it wasn't personally relelvant to me, so my brain would quickly start ignoring it.

What behaviour did I want to change? Well, I could start with my use of the telephone. I know that when I'm on the phone, I have the tendancy to attempt to multitask by reading email or continuing to work while I'm carrying on my phone conversation. I say "attempt" only because it's obviously difficult to divide your attention in this way. Pretty much impossible, actually - in the end, one of the two tasks at hand ends up suffering due to divided attention.

So I searched Google, and ended up finding a vey relevant quote:

"Speak and listen as if this is the most important
conversation you will ever have with this person.
    It could be.
Participate as if it matters.
    It does."
- Susan Scott

I printed this on a standard letter sized sheet of paper in very large font and pinned it on the cubicle wall directly in front of me, just above the eyeline of the top of my monitor. And there it has hung for the last six months.

Has it worked? Yes, very much so. Now when someone calls, I stop what I'm doing and I give them my full attention. The calls end up being shorter in duration anyway since I'm able to dedicate all of my thoughts to that conversation and participate fully. If I do find myself wandering back to thinking about reading email or doing other work, I guiltily glance up at the poster I printed and these thoughts disappear - either I get right back into the phone conversation, or I cut it short so that I can get back to work. Either way, I'm more productive, and I'm much more considerate of the other person.

I've never met Susan Scott, nor do I even know anything about what she does... but thanks Susan, your motivational quote on my cubicle wall has improved my conversation skills immensely.

Posted by Hammer at 01:32 PM | Comments (0)

December 27, 2005

Do As I Say, And You Will Learn Nothing

It was 1988, near the end of grade 12, when I really learned the hard way that showing someone how to do something is not the same as teaching them to do it. I've carried this lesson with me, and I'm still reminded of it at least once every few months...

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I was working as a Lighting Technician for the stage technical crew at our high school. I was working along side Brett, an Audio Technician, and we were rehearsing for the year-end production put on by the drama team. This was a fairly important production, as it was a regional drama competition.

The manager of the stage technical crew was Ken Haugen. Actually, this was double-duty for him, since he was also the director of the play that was being rehearsed. And that's actually not the problem. It gets worse... Ken's daughter, Tavia, was one of the actresses in the play.

So for the weeks of rehearsal leading up to the actual performance, Ken does the worst thing that a manager can do. He "micromanages". And for the sound and lighting crew, this means that Ken is "on the controls". Yes, he's adjusting the lighting for each scene and cueing the audio, and at the same time he's directing the action on stage. Oh Brett and I were still around, but we're clearly not doing the work.

To give credit where it's due, he does manage to pull this off superbly. He actually does manage to get the play into shape on stage, and he also manages to make Brett and I his slaves, moving controls on his whim. In the end, the final rehearsal looks very polished.

It's worth noting here that at the very end of the play, the script called for an audio cue: Brett was to play the introduction to Roger Hodgson's Had a Dream. If you don't know it, that introduction starts out quiet and builds up to a gunshot. When the gunshot was played, then the lights and sound were both supposed to be killed at the same time, letting the audience figure out that the character on stage had just shot himself.

During the actual performance, both Brett and I were a little lost, but we muddled through all the of scene changes decently well just by reading the script and following along. We were struggling, it turns out, because Ken wasn't beside us telling us exactly what to do. He had abandoned us to be back stage (which is where he should have been for all of the rehearsals, too). Now Brett and I were left to do our jobs, but we had never been allowed to learn them.

At the end of the play, when the critical final audio cue was written in the script, Brett dutifully started the tape. Then he looked at me and asked "what now?". I didn't know. We talked about it for at least 10 seconds, and then figured that we better do something since the introduction of the song was about to end and we were pretty sure that we weren't supposed to play any of the actual song itself. So we agreed to fade the stage lights and the sound in unison. We proceeded to do so.

The audience was in the dark. Both figuratively and literally. Without the gunshot (which we had faded out), they had no idea what had happened to the character on stage, and hence they were left hanging. The plot just ended, apparently without resolution.

I brought up the house lights, and the audience applauded, but Brett and I both knew that something wasn't quite right. We were about to find out. As we went back stage to mingle with the everyone after the production, Ken grabbed us and pulled us aside to ream us out. He told us that the two of us had just ruined the whole production, and cost our play any chance of winning the competition. Then Brett and I got the cold shoulder and harsh glares from all of the actors and actresses. It sure was a bad day to be us.

Of course, Brett and I did feel pretty bad, but I was also pissed off (Brett was still too shocked to register anything but guilt). I was mad that Ken didn't teach us. He didn't let us learn our jobs, since he was way too busy trying to get everything just perfect for his daughter.

I took two things away from that whole painful ordeal. First, if you want someone to learn something, you have to let them do it themselves. Later in life, as I was being asked to fix people's computers for them, I would often times force them to stay at the mouse and keyboard. They would volunteer to get up and let me just "do some magic" to fix it, but I wasn't willing since I wanted them to learn. Most of them did learn, too.

Secondly, don't play favorites to your children. Ken played favorite to his daughter on more than one occasion, and I honestly don't think that it ever did her any good. In contrast, when my Dad was coaching my team in minor league baseball, even though I was on the team I never got favored. All of the players, me included, saw that and respected him for that.

I never did tell any of the actors or actresses in that play exactly who was to blame for screwing up the production. I don't know how Brett felt about it, but I felt that I was partially to blame for allowing Ken to undermine Brett and I during those rehearsals. I should have told Ken to get the hell off those controls, but I didn't.

Now that I'm older, I know better. I try not to take the blame for other people's actions. If I am the one who is goig to have his head on the line for doing something, then I damn well step up to the responsibility and learn my job.

Posted by Hammer at 11:12 PM | Comments (0)

December 21, 2005

Jefferson's Longest Walk

My cousin Jeff was teaching English over in Taiwan back in 2001. He kept in touch, emailing all of us back home whenever he had time. I thought that he could have had the makings for a sitcom in those emails, some of the situations that he got into in class were that funny.

Here's one of the stories that he emailed to me...

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There is this little eight year old kid in my afternoon class (Jefferson) and he is just this funny looking, overweight thing that always picks his nose. If bad things are going to happen to a person it's going to happen to him. He's always getting in trouble and he "just isn't there" most of the time in class. A real drifter he is.

Well, he asked to go to the bathroom, I said yes and away he went. There was a class downstairs getting water (my school has 4 floors) and they have one student called Jeff. While I was teaching I could hear "Jeff" being called from out in the hall. Some kid saying Jeff downstairs was all I thought. I must have heard Jeff being called about 5 times from a little voice out in the hall, down the stairs... so I thought. I lost track of time, and all of the sudden the door opened, I heard the "Jeff" for the last time, and there was Jefferson slouched over, walking like he had been hit in the stomach.

I knew what he wanted right away and ran to the other end of the classroom for the toilet tissue. He grabbed the tissue from my hand, turned a cheek, and walked back to the bathroom... pants down and everything. All the people in the class, including myself, got a full view of a little Taiwanese butt waddling back to the bathroom as fast as his legs would take him.

We all had a good laugh over that in the room and Jefferson... well, he was glad to be back in the room. I could just imagine what was going through his head when all he could do was call for his teacher and teacher didn't come. To be stuck in a tough situation like that could only have happened to one person. The bathroom to the classroom door - that must have been the longest walk of his life.

Jeff

Posted by Hammer at 11:49 PM | Comments (0)

December 19, 2005

Brianne's Story

I'm a complete sucker for stories involving children. I laugh out loud at the funny things that kids do, as highlighted in daily newspaper articles. I rejoice in telling others stories about my own two daughters. I listen with the greatest of interest when others are relating their own life stories to me. Overall, these are the stories that I enjoy the most these days....

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On the other hand, it's also not uncommon for co-workers to find me watery-eyed as I'm reading about tragedy at a young age. I found this story online, and it's heart wrenching and inspirational at the same time: http://www.briannesleapofhope.org/briannesstory.htm
The mother's journal spans from 1999 to 2003, and is a very honest recount of all she goes through.

Reading Brianne's story made me pause and give thanks (yet again) that we have two healthy daughters. When our second daughter was born, I had a few friends who asked if I was disappointed that we didn't have a boy for our second child. Absolutely not. I told them that I was just happy to have two babies that both appeared to be happy and healthy, and I really meant it.

I think that part of this appreciation for life and how difficult it can be comes from growing up with a handicapped sibling. My youngest sister was born with cerebral palsy. I saw first hand how hard this could be at times on my parents. I know that Brianne's parents would have had some very tough times and some hard decisions to make.

As funny and as endearing as some of the stories are about our children, we need to hear the sad and tragic stories from time to time to remind us how precious a gift their presence is in our lives.

Posted by Hammer at 12:47 PM | Comments (0)

December 06, 2005

Being Skip is Hard

My first season of curling was last year, and during that time I only had the opportunity to play in the skip (fourth) position once. And that game didn't *really* count as skipping, since it turned out to be less about curling and more about socializing.

This year - yes, my second season of curling - I'm skipping a team in a mixed league. The team consists of me and my wife along with another couple. I am only now finding out how much difficult it is to skip a team instead of just playing on one...

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I usually play lead, throwing the first two rocks per end for the team that I'm on. This is the case for my saturday morning men's league, and is also usually the case when I'm called in to spare for other teams. I like the lead position, because it lets me do a lot of sweeping. I enjoy sweeping as it keeps me active and warm on the ice, and also tends to pass the time a lot better. I sweep hard so that at the end of a game, my arms and shoulders have a dull ache, and I know that I've just been through a decent upper body workout.

A few times I've been called in to spare for a team and have ended up playing second. This has worked out fine in the past; it's about the same as lead except there are more come-around shots and more takeout shots to be played. No problem.

The one time that I played third it was a bit more stressful, since by the time third rocks are being thrown, some times your team can already be in trouble on an end. I try to stay away from this position since I'm not yet good at the high-weight double and triple takeout shots.

Finally, skipping (in the traditional sense - both calling the shots and also throwing fourth rocks). Oh boy, what a difference. Whereas my shot-making ability usually ranges from 60% - 90% on any given night in any other position, when I'm skipping my percentage drops to about 25%. And I wish I could say I'm exaggerating.

I've found that when getting into the hack in most positions it's usually easy to ignore all of the distrations and concentrate solely on hitting the broom and getting correct weight. When I'm in the hack as skip, not only are those things on my mind, but also a whole host of others:

There are more, but you see the range of questions running through my head. I'm convinced that the better skips in this sport are those that can shut out all of that and just concentrate on making the shot that they've already planned and agreed to try before they got into the hack.

I'm not quite there yet.

Posted by Hammer at 12:20 AM | Comments (0)