Who is responsible for Yogurt-gate?

This morning on NBC news, I saw a story that was affectionately called "yogurt-gate." (I couldn't find a link to the NBC story, but here's a link to a similar story)

It seems a group of college students in Denver, Co. were close to the President and shaking his hand as he went by. Suddenly, the President's pants were covered with yogurt. The story tells that the young woman (later identified as Kolbi Zerbest) spilled the yogurt.

In the interview this morning, Miss Zerbest explained that she had placed her yogurt on a pole and the paparazzi hit the pole, spilling the yogurt. She also said that "technically, it was (her) fault."

So, who's responsible? Miss Zerbest accepted the responsibility. Why would I bother to blog about this? Because I want people to realize that they have responsibility. When Miss Zerbest purchased the yogurt, she became responsible for it. She should have placed it in a location where it was safe.

Spilling yogurt, even on the President, isn't a big deal, but too often people don't accept responsibility. Instead they quickly say "it wasn't my fault." I have to confess, I've even been guilty of this at times. But if you accept responsibility, and treat every situation as potentially volatile, you might not spill your yogurt.

What would Chuck Colson say about Chuck Colson?

In case you missed the news, Chuck Colson died over the weekend. I first found out by reading a tweet about his life, then searched and found out about his death.

I need to start by saying I didn't (and still don't) know much about Colson. I know he was involved in Watergate, but couldn't tell you how. I know he had a religious experience in prison and started Prison Fellowship Ministries.   I listened to some of Colson's radio commentaries, and while I agreed with them most of the time, I didn't care for his style and can really only recall one (see below). He's just never been that interesting to me.

That said, I was amazed at some of the vitriol that I saw in some of the commentary this weekend. They pointed out his crimes, his attitudes, and his strong, conservative Biblical views, all in a very negative way. This made me think: What would Chuck Colson say about Chuck Colson?

Which brings me to the one commentary of Colson's I remember, or at least remember partly. The premise was based on a sign that he saw that said "don't help a good boy go bad."  The sign was promoting a Boy's Club of some sort and asking for donations. Colson's comment was that they weren't good boys, they were bad boys - born to sin just like the rest of us. A better goal would be to help a bad boy go good.

Anyone who doubts this, needs to work with kids. You don't have to teach a kid how to lie or how to steal. You don't have to teach them how to be conniving. Just this past weekend, I saw a kid who was told not to step onto a soccer field, step one foot across the line and look back at the adults as if to dare them to punish him (they did). This behavior is ingrained into boys (and girls).

Which is what I think Colson would say about Colson. That he was a sinner.  Not a good person at all. And in many ways, those who have only vitriol to share are right. And they can boast that they are simply saying what Colson would say about himself.

Do sweat the small stuff

Sometime back, a popular saying was "Don't sweat the small stuff". This was usually followed by the corollary, "and it's all small stuff." Lately, this has been on my mind a lot, or more correctly, the opposite has been on my mind - "do sweat the small stuff."

It's by sweating the small stuff - mastering those seemingly meaningless tasks - that we gain the abilities we need to do the big stuff. In his book "Outliers", Malcom Gladwell mentioned the "10,000 hour rule claiming that the key to success in any field is, to a large extent, a matter of practicing a specific task for a total of around 10,000 hours." That seems like a lot of time to become a master, but if you look at it as 40 hrs/wk for 5 years, that seems to fit accreditation requirements in a lot of jobs. Five years to become an "expert" seems reasonable. Five years of sweating the small stuff doesn't seem that ridiculous. Gladwell points to The Beatles and Bill Gates as examples of his "10,000 hour rule" (read the book for more details).

When my kids were young, we handed out chores. We started with small tasks, for example cleaning there room with our help, and expanded to bigger tasks (loading the dish-washer, cutting grass). In our work lives, we typically follow a similar process, working with co-workers at first, then leading projects. By sweating the small stuff, we show our employers that we are capable of moving on to bigger stuff.

It turns out this idea is not new, I didn't invent it and neither did Gladwell. I keep repeating Matthew 25:23 which says "You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things."

Sweating the small stuff means different things to different people. It may mean showing up on time for a job that you really don't like. It may mean a little extra polish in the spit-and-polish (and a little less spit). It may just mean doing the things you know need to be done without expecting any recognition.

What does sweating the small things mean to you?

Regrets, I've had a few... too few to mention

The subject line is from a song sang by many different people, best done by Frank Sinatra. It ends with the line "I did it my way." The song comes to mind every now and then, not for the ending, but for the line I put in the title, the line about regrets.

I've always said I lived my life without regrets. I think most people feel that way. The country group Rascal Flatts sings about it in their song "God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you." Even the bad things in life have a way of working out. Darius Rucker's song "This" says "maybe it didn't turn out like I planned, maybe that's why I'm such, such a lucky man" says the same thing. Without the bad things in my life, I wouldn't be where I am today. The things that don't kill you make you stronger. All of those kinds of ideas.

So of all the bad things that have happened in the past, all of the mistakes I've made and all of the really, really stupid things I've done, all of those were good? Is that the rational conclusion of all of this? Or maybe, just maybe I SHOULD have some regrets?

Just thinking right now, more to come....

A Quarter of a Century

Quarter of a Century. Saying it that way makes it sound like a long time, doesn't it? Twenty-five years ago, my wife & I were expecting our second child. She awoke early and couldn't sleep, so she went in the other room. Around 5am, she came and told me we needed to think about the fact that she might be in labor. Being the loving, supportive husband I was, I told her she probably wasn't and rolled over.

When I heard the slamming of the door accompanied with a muttered "FINE!", I made a wise decision. I got up. After sitting with her a few minutes, we decided it was time to go to the hospital. We finished packing and called a neighbor who had agreed to take care of our 2-year old daughter. As we finished packing her things, he called back and told us to remember a car-seat and something and something and something. I told him that he was more nervous than I was.

On the way to the hospital on the planned route (this was still pre-rush hour traffic) I saw a road-sign that looked familiar. I was pretty sure I knew where the other end of this road was and it would be a quicker route, so I decided to try a road never travelled before (at least by me). The funny thing about roads in Charlotte, they all have similar names. There's Sharon Rd, Sharon Lane, Sharon Amity and I ain't Sharin' Sharon. No wait, that last one is a song by Jim Stafford.

Anyway, when I got the end of Sharon something it wasn't quite where I thought it would be, but it was close. My wife was not amused or impressed. We still got to the hospital before rush hour and in plenty of time.

Ultrasounds were not as common 25 years ago, so we had no idea if we were expecting a girl or a boy (even in that day, those were still the only two choices). We entertained a lot of ideas about determining the sex, tried a boiled egg resting on the belly and a few other tricks, but these were mainly for fun. Our nurse that day told us that the baby's heartbeat would tell you, but many times it was wrong. But she had great confidence when she told us THIS one was a boy.

We took the nurse's prediction seriously, as we had chosen girl names but no boy names. Between contractions for two hours we discussed names as we had discussed for the last nine months, still with no resolution. Fortunately for us, no decision was needed as our little girl was born early that afternoon. I'm not sure if the nurse ever knew about her mistake.

Happy Birthday Katie. You've gone from being my little "bean green" to a wonderful lady with 2.2 children of your own. We love you. Hope today is as happy for you as my day was 25 years ago.

Elizabeth Edwards dies at age 61

Unless you missed the news, Elizabeth Edwards passed away today. She was 61.

I wrote about Mrs. Edwards' cancer back in 2007 (here). Let me echo something I said back then. There will be those who say this is God's punishment for something or another. Shame on them.

My heart goes out to the family. She left three children, including a 12 year old and a 10 year old. These children will have to go on without a mother.

One interesting tidbit that I found was that Edwards' son Wade (who was killed in an auto accident at age 16) was honored by then First Lady Clinton for an essay he wrote. After his death, the essay and his obituary were entered into the Congressional Record by Senator Jesse Helms (for those unfamiliar with Helms, he would have seldom agree with the Edwardses politically).

Moderation is for monks....

A few weeks ago, I received some comments on my blog for very old blog posts. I don't mind, but these were obviously spam. So I turned on moderation for old posts.

However, I didn't realize that I had to actively look for comments held in moderation. This morning I found I had 15 comments held, all but one were spam.

I look at this as a good news/bad news situation, I had 14 spam comments held and you, my loyal reader, won't have to bother with those. Unfortunately, one valid comment was held by my ignorance. My sincere apologies.

As it is, anyone (including anonymous readers) can comment on recent blog posts. If the post is over 14 days old, I will moderate. I will ONLY reject comments that seem to be spam - ads for medical sales or other sales. If you feel I have rejected your comment unfairly, either email me (my email address is in my profile) or comment on a more recent post.

I will not reject posts that simply disagree with me (that would get rid of most of my comments).

Thanks to all who comment.

P.S. Anyone know the rest of the quote in the subject line?

Jupiter Struck by Object, NASA Images Confirm

This article confirms that the planet Jupiter has been struck by a comet or an asteroid. You may think "so what, I'm not moving to Jupiter anytime soon and I don't know anyone who lives there."

But what if the comet or asteroid had hit the earth? Well, it would have been a very bad thing. All you have to do is watch the movies, like Deep Impact, Asteroid, or any Saturday afternoon B movie to understand.

Thankfully, our solar system has a couple of big planets out there that act as magnets to attract comets and asteroids. I mean, think of it this way, if you were aiming at planets, would you rather aim at a big target like Jupiter, or a small target like Earth?

So, we all can be thankful that Jupiter is out there. You know, when you think about it, it's almost like someone designed it that way :)

Girl Scout cookies with Grandpa

The little girls in our neighborhood know that I'm a sucker for Girl Scout cookies. Actually, for anything that they're selling. Christmas stuff, fruit for their band, whatever. But Girl Scout cookies are my favorite.

This year, with the kids being out of the house (see here) and my ever-round midsection, I decided to cut back to two boxes. Those coconut carmel things with chocolate drizzled over them and the peanut butter sandwiches. These are my favorite for two reasons: 1) I like the flavor and 2) they're the least favorite of other people (so I get more). The two boxes came a couple of weeks ago. My wife went to the door and the little girl stuck them out and said "Here, that will be seven dollars." I wish I had been able to see that.

Last Saturday, I came in after doing my VITA/TCE thing. My almost three year old grandson came up to me and said "Grandpa, we cain't eat all your Girl Scout cookies." The way he said it was so sad, it sounded like he had tried his best, but just couldn't do it. I think I gave him an extra cookie right then (sorry mom).

Yesterday, he came over for a while. I poured us a small glass of milk, one of the glasses with a large mouth. Then I got us each two of the peanut butter sandwiches (the coconut cookies are already gone) and sat down beside him. I showed him how to carefully and artfully dunk the cookie into the milk.

At first he was a little skeptical, then he started sucking the milk off the cookie and re-dunking it. I decided not to dunk my second cookie into the glass after that. But at least I've taught him about one of the good things in life. Girl Scout cookies with Grandpa.

The Secret Life of Bees - Movie Review

The tag line for this movie says "Bring Your Girlfriends, Sisters, Mothers and Daughters" - so why did I go? Simple, because my wife wanted a night out. Here's my opinion on the movie (no spoilers included)

This wasn't your typical "chick-flick". I felt like it spoke to a different topic than I expected. Dakota Fanning plays a 14 year old girl raised in rural SC in 1964. Lily (Fanning's character) has some shadowy memories of her mother who died when she was only 4. Her relationship with her father is "troubled" and she clings desperately to what little information she has on her mother.

Seeking more about her mother, she escapes to a honey-farm, run by three black women where she learns about bee keeping (hence the title).

Life in rural SC in 1964 was complicated (and the movie even admits that). Queen Latifah plays a loving, motherly type, who is quick to help, slow to speak. Alicia Keys plays her quick to act, chip-on-my shoulder sister who is mad at the world. The Civil Rights Act has just been signed and not everyone in SC is happy about it.

You should know before you see the movie that it deals a lot with race relations in 1964 (did I mention in rural SC?). There is a lot of hatred, but there's also some love shown. Not racy, hot sex-filled love. There's some true love shown between the races. There's also love shown for another sister, named May (I won't spoil this part with details).

You can watch the movie and be outraged at the way people are treated. You can be happy at a little girl finding out about bees. I watched the little girl's father. I think it would be interesting to remake the movie from his point of view. What did he feel for his young wife? How did he meet her? What about their daughter? When his wife died, how did he raise the little girl? What drove him to be the way he was?

One comment in the movie (almost a spoiler) was near the end when Fanning's character saw her father. She admitted that she had seen her mother's death for the impact it had on her life, for the hole it left in her. She never thought about the hole it left in him. To me, that made the movie worthwhile.

Another part of the movie showed support. Support for people. Without giving away details, there are at least two people described or seen in the movie who just aren't able to handle life or the current hand that they've been dealt. Instead of being critical, the character played by Queen Latifah just supports them, helps them through.

If you see the movie, and I think you should, I'd ask you to look at it from that angle. Then think about the same thing in your life. What event (or sequence of events) have happened in your life that have caused you to focus on the impact, but ignore the impact on someone else's life?

Painting the lines

When I graduated from high school, I took a summer job working in a manufacturing environment. If you've ever seen a textile mill with cloth running from one machine to another, you've seen some of the large rollers. The company I worked for would take these rollers (after they had worn considerably) and strip all the rubber off of them, then apply new rubber. The new rubber was then sanded smooth, to the exact specifications the customer demanded. Typically, this was within a few thousandths of an inch.

The machine I worked on had the ability to put a "crown" onto a roll. That is, the diameter of the roll was more in the center than on the ends. So, it may have a "crown" of 0.025 inches. The ends had to match each other, the crown had to be in the center and the crown had to be the exact specified amount.

Business was very good in the summer, because textiles took time off. During their lulls, they would send us the work. I start out working 55 hours a week (10 hours/day, 5 hours on Sunday) and kept that up for most of the summer. Top that off with an above-minimum wage pay and I was living! (and spending it all too).



Occasionally, work would get slack. No new orders coming in, so overtime was cut quickly. When the workload dropped even more, we painted lines. The lines were required by OSHA for safety. it showed where forklifts could go, where other equipment could go, etc. When times were very slow, we painted our machines.

So why am I posting this, thirty years later? The company I worked for no longer exists and other than a few scars on my two small fingers of my left hand and some memories, there's nothing left.

Well, here's my point. There are times in your life when things are slow. When this happens, you need to paint lines. If life is slow, your job is boring and things aren't going your way, paint the lines. Study a new topic. Stay in school (or go back). Complete a few projects that you didn't complete when life was hectic. Focus on the essentials. Maybe even (gasp) read a book.

Or if live gets very boring, post a blog entry.

I hate MySpace

I found a good blog, someone who lives in my area and shares some common interest (except college choices). But I can't comment because I don't have a myspace account. I guess I have to go create one, but do you KNOW how many userids/passwords I have? 51! (I just counted)

I have them recorded somewhere (it's a secret where). That's not good for security, but making them all the same isn't either. There has to be a better way!

Savannah

This past weekend, my wife & I took a short trip to Savannah, a first for both of us. This was in celebration of our sixth anniversary.

Let me first say that I am married to the most wonderful woman in the world. How she puts up with me continues to be a mystery and the fact that she deigns to my level is still beyond my comprehension. But she doesn't consider it that at all and that's even more mysterious.

Savannah is a nice town to visit. At 60 feet above sea level (lower in places), I'm not sure I'd want to live there. There's lots of history, back to the revolutionary war, the Spanish-American war and the Civil War. We walked through a Colonial cemetery and read some of the tombstones. The first I saw was a woman who died after the birth of her 15th child. I think it was self-defense.

We strolled along the river, saw street performers and just enjoyed the first evening. On Saturday we went to a light house. It was nice, but looked like all the other light houses I've seen. I'm sure I'll see more in the years to come.

After the lighthouse and the lighthouse museum, we went downtown for another stroll. (I find that I stroll more now that I'm older). Saturday night we took in a riverboat cruise. It was nice and relaxing, but we couldn't see a lot. Sunday morning we took a carriage ride. Lots of historical information.

Savannah is smaller than I imagined. It would be hard to make a full week out of it, but it's a nice weekend get-away.

I lied and committed ID theft

I confess. Tonight I committed ID theft and I lied.

A little over 2 months ago, I helped my wife apply for her free credit report. For some reason, it couldn't be sent online, so we asked for it to be mailed. Tonight I decided to find out what happened to it (it never arrived). So, rather than try to explain it to my wife and have her call, I called them myself and told them I was her. I also gave them her social.

The first person I spoke to passed me onto a second, so I went through the same scenario. This person at least questioned when I gave them my wife's name, but she went ahead and helped me anyway.

They're mailing the reports again. I lied. I confess.

(I told my wife all about it when she came in)

Should Chelsea's picture come down?

Chelsea Clinton had her picture taken with the owner of a restaurant and he put it in his window. He has photos of other famous people including Regis Philbin and even politician Rudy Giuliani. Apparently though, the Clintons aren't happy with the photo.

Bill Clinton's lawyer sent a letter to the restaurant owner, demanding the photo be taken down. The letter included threats of "any and all options" if the picture stayed.

The legality comes down to weather or not Chelsea is a private citizen (she is) and whether the owner has the right to publish the picture (he doesn't).

But wouldn't it have been a little nicer if Bill has sent a letter asking him to take it down? Maybe Hillary could have gone and had her picture taken to replace the Chelsea photo.

You can view the story here. Note that the restaurant seems like a nice place, the man claims that he looks at Chelsea as his daughter and he's a well dressed, nice looking man. In short, it's a good picture.

I agree the picture should come down, the request should have been more civil. I'm not sure this is as much an attack against our former president, as it is an attack on society in general. When we have to threaten through lawyers instead of just making a request, I think we've gone too far.

Margins

Ever wonder what margins on the paper are made for? Probably not, but I'm just weird, I think about things like that.

Wikipedia is no help, it has three different definitions, one for finance, one for economics and one for typography. None explain why we have margins.

When I was in school (back before Al Gore invented the internet), I was taught that the margin on the paper was in case you had to make corrections. Word processing involved a pencil and eraser and you could insert new sentences in tiny "font" in the margins.

We had this discussion at dinner the other night. My wife thought I was talking about the margins in her life. Actually, I was directing it at my son, but it could apply to other people as well. Please take the time to read this and see if it applies to you.

My son talked about a "margin of error" in math. That makes sense, you know the answer is X within a margin of error. In both the math case and the written paper, the margin allows you some wiggle room in case you've made a mistake.

My point to my son was that we need margins in our life. We need extra time. When I drive to Columbia, I know I can make it in an hour and a half, I allow two hours. I may have to stop for gas, or to get a bisquit. Or I may run into traffic. The margin allows me to still make it to my destination at the appointed time.

For school work (or job work), I allow margins. If something is due Tuesday, I'll work on it to be finished Monday. This way if the phone rings and I get busy, I have a margin to absorb the extra work.

In financial terms, Dave Ramsey calls this an "emergency fund". If the refridgerator breaks (ours did a month ago), you dip into the emergency fund to replace it, then build the fund back up. The emergency fund becomes your margin. A bigger margin is needed for job security, most analysts tell you to keep 3-6 months expenses in savings for such as this. Again, it's a margin.

When we start eating into our margins on a regular basis, problems come up. If we use all of our emergency fund and don't replenish it, next time an emergency happens, we're in trouble. If we have no margin on our homework, we can't handle things outside the norm (late dinner, extra chores, etc). If we have no extra time in our trip to Columbia, and we run into traffic, we will be late.

Margins are necessary in all aspects of our life. Financial, time, or just to give us some reduced stress.

Margins

Is there always a purpose?

Yesterday was a good day at church, it set my mind to thinking in several areas. More on that later. But I had an interesting question.

The story was Daniel and the lion's den. Daniel was thrown in, the lions mulled around, Daniel got out, Daniels enemies became lion's lunch.

One of the points of the message was that there is always a purpose? While I believe that is true, and I believe the purpose was a good one, was the sole purpose of that event to be able to tell us the story some 2000+ years later?

If you had met Daniel a week after the event, what would he have said? "Yep, it was a good thing. I had to get rid of the pants I was wearing that day after that lion nuzzled up next to me, but I see what the plan was." If you talked to Daniel a year later, would he have said "I'm glad that it all happened. It worked out so much better than any other way. I can reach so many more people as a result of that experience and I would do it again if I could."

I suspect that Daniel never really understood the purpose. And I suspect that, given a choice, he would have tried to reach the purpose another way.

Nothing in life was ever settle on a conference call

A large part of my job involves working with people to solve some of their problems. Frequently, this work is done on the phone. Sometimes, I'm solving the problems, other times, I'm getting someone else involved who can solve it.

The last two days, I've been on conference calls with 10-20 people and someone on the call tried to solve the problem. This meant that 2 of the 10-20 people had a deep technical problem, when the other 8-18 of us sat there, bored. To make matters worse, the person solving the problem (or trying to) argued with the other person. And of course the other person argued back, dragging the call down to a shouting match.

I'm firmly convinced that nothing in life was ever settle on a conference call.

(Can you tell I'm frustrated?)

Life is a function

OK, this will be strange, but stick with me. I was a math major for 2 years in college, but this only involves high school math. A function is something like y = ax + bw + cz + d. It involves coefficients (a, b & c in my example), variables (x, w & z) and constants (d). The thing I liked best about functions was that when you plugged in the right coefficients, variables and constants, you always get the right answer.

It occurred to me yesterday that life is a function. You encounter decisions (variables) and some of these decisions are bigger than others (different coefficients) and you have some constants. The results you get are a function of the variables, coefficients and constants.

It would be nice if you could see this function ahead of time, then you'd be able to solve the function based on the variables and know how life would turn out. Unfortunately, you can't know all the variables and especially the coefficients (the importance of the decisions) at the time you're facing things.

But life is a function. The decisions we make lead directly to the life we live.

(Now why didn't Socrates or Plato or some other philosopher come up with that idea?)