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Aisle Do

The Texas Legislature meets once every two years for five months, which means elected officials have a lot of work to do in a short time. The 85th Regular Session concludes today – and the past 140 days were filled with barbs, accusations and criticism volleyed back and forth between the Senate and the House – without much being accomplished.

That’s becoming more typical every biennial session… and a similar thing occurs in college football, which kicks off the 2017 season in less than 100 days. Alabama doesn’t like Auburn. Michigan can’t stand Ohio State. Army despises Navy.

In Texas, generations of Aggies and Longhorns – who often grow up and work side by side – are taught from the cradle about the greatness of each school. Although the teams haven’t met on the gridiron since 2011 when Texas A&M left the Big XII for the SEC, maroon traditions and burnt orange blood forever run deep. Aggies still proclaim ‘Goodbye to Texas University’ and Longhorns continue to say ‘It’s goodbye to A&M’.

Yesterday, our family attended the wedding of the son of longtime friends. Like his parents, the young man is a proud former student of Texas A&M – and there were dozens of their kindred spirit at the reception. Toward the end, the DJ played the Aggie War Hymn and the dance floor quickly filled with chanting of ‘Hullabaloo Caneck! Caneck!’

At which point, my friend’s brother – knowing our deep University of Texas roots – yelled at me, “Come join us, David.” So I did. Locking arms and swaying with them as everyone leaned left and right. I smiled while they sang ‘Saw Varsity’s Horns Off.’

It was a gesture in support of the groom and his family – and with best intentions for wishing the young couple prosperity and joy as they begin married life.

Perhaps our public servants – in Texas and Washington, too – would achieve better results by showing some humility for and understanding of peers on the other side… regardless of their ingrained beliefs, values and traditions.

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Remember When

Since I was a teenager less than 10 people have given me a haircut – and 98.24% of those clippings have been by four people: two in Ft. Worth and two since we moved to the Houston area. During the past dozen years only one person has taken her razor (at a 2.5 setting) and clippers to my hair.

I followed Jaki to two salons, an entrepreneurial venture on her own, and back to the second place she worked. During various stretches she’s given haircuts to all three of our kids… and still squeezes me into her schedule on short notice.

Recently, the salon’s owner sold to a couple that emigrated from Venenzuela three years ago to escape the economic turmoil there, and the wife is running the business. The first time I walked in the door under the new ownership, as Jaki led me to her station, I commented: “Seems quiet in here today.” She said: “Three of our employees quit this week.”

When I asked why, her response caught me off guard: “What they told me is they don’t like the fact she doesn’t speak English well.” I probed for a deeper reason, and Jaki said that appeared to be the only one.

When she finished the haircut and I paid, the new owner was sitting at the reception desk. I introduced myself and asked if I could speak to her outside. She raised her eyebrows, and it occurred to me that she probably thought I was going to complain. Instead, I told her how impressed I am that she bought the salon and that I would continue to be a loyal customer.

I also offered to provide some free coaching to help her in these initial months of business ownership. She hasn’t taken me up on that; however, I hope she does. From my seat in the barber’s chair, the best way to offset insensitivity is to reach out and embrace those who don’t look, speak and think like me. After all, 160 years ago next month when my great-great grandparents arrived in America from Austria-Hungary they didn’t understand a bit of English.

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Right Time

At the peak of the dot-com bubble, circa 1999, investment dollars were flying in to unproven companies faster than you could say Pets.com – poster child for everything that didn’t work. Talk about an unsustainable business plan: losing money on every transaction; selling items for one-third cost. As typically happens when ‘irrational exuberance’ takes over (see: Holland – ‘tulip mania’, 1637), the inevitable crash occurred. Just two years after debuting, the company with the sock monkey Super Bowl ad was gone.

Boo.com, Books-a-Million, e.Toys.com, The Learning Company and InfoSpace are a few of the many whose stock price soared to the stratosphere only to burn up. However, those who went down in flames of bankruptcy did the rest of us some big favors.

Two decades ago Internet speeds staggered along with slow dial-ups. Most people hadn’t purchased anything online. We looked up phone numbers and addresses in the Yellow Pages and kept maps in our glove compartments. Today the world is at your fingertips and finding anything – from airfares to zoo tickets – is a click away.

Grocery stores in our area are now offering curb service. Shop online. Hop in your car. Park in specially marked spaces… and an employee brings your bags right to you. (Webvan tried that starting in 1996… burned through $800 million and was gone five years later.)

Perhaps this is truly a what-goes-around-comes-around situation – and all those early pioneers were ahead of their time… like Charles Babbage’s ‘difference engine’ that preceded the personal computer by, oh, about 150 years, or the man who invented an electric car… in 1891.

William Morrison didn’t capitalize on his idea; however, Elon Musk seems to be doing quite well with the 21st century version. Tesla is worth more than Ford or GM. Anyone out there starting to pick up a faint scent of tulips wafting through the morning breeze?

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The Station

by Robert J. Hastings

Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent. We are traveling by train. Out the windows we bring in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of city skylines and village halls.

But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. On a certain day at a certain hour we will pull into the station. Bands will be playing and flags waving. Once we get there so many wonderful dreams will come true and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a complete jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering—waiting, waiting, waiting for the station.

When we reach the station, that will be it, we cry. When I’m 18. When I buy a new 450SL Mercedes Benz. When I put the last kid through college. When I have paid off the mortgage. When I get a promotion. When I reach the age of retirement, I shall live happily ever after.

Sooner or later we must realize there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us.

Relish the moment is a good motto, especially when coupled with Psalm 118:24: This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it. It isn’t the burdens of today that drive men mad. It is the regrets over yesterday and the fear of tomorrow. Regret and fear are twin thieves who rob us of today.

So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot more often, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more and cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come soon enough.

 

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Nail Biter

There is a short video that shows the different approaches opposite genders take to resolve issues. A woman tries to share with her significant other a challenge that protrudes into her life. He sees it clearly… and tells her right away. However, she’s adamant what he says is not what it’s about.

Perhaps one reason this encounter hits the nail on the head for me is because it was 17 years into our marriage before I realized Kathy doesn’t want me to solve everything all the time. Sometimes she just wants me to listen. Of course, being male, this is a continuing struggle – as I am prone to jump in with an answer, often before she completes her thought.

The good news is that in my coaching work, I am much more attune with the needs of clients – and have no problem avoiding ‘the answer trap.’ While it’s tempting to say, “I’ve seen this many times; here’s what you need to do,” that’s an instant solution that doesn’t do anything to help the client grow. While a quick fix solves something right now, what skills has the person learned to make better decisions?

Coaching is about giving clients space to open up, reflect and grow. We do this by asking open-ended questions (“What? How? When?”) that allow the person being coached to choose her own path. That’s much more powerful than my opinion. After all, there’s a strong likelihood she’s already asked a few others for their thoughts. Why would she need me to add another one and, perhaps, create more uncertainty?

So the next time someone shares a situation with you, the best thing you can do is pause and ask: “Do you want me to listen or tell you what I think?” She’ll let you know.

*** Here’s a link to the 1:41 video.