Author: Ricardo

Gantt charts make project managers so very happy.  Oh, there are many ways to skin the proverbial project management cat, but the Gantt chart…yeah, that an old favorite.  What’s a Gantt chart?  It’s a chart that helps visualize the timeline of a project.  This is a Gantt chart:

Why do project managers love them so much?  Easy: they are hard to misinterpret.  Sure, you can argue about the logic about the timeframes selected for each task, about the duration of each task, about the sequencing of tasks, about the dependencies between tasks…stuff like that…but you can’t really argue with a picture that has colors and words that clearly shows you when you’re starting and when the stuff is going to hit the fan.  You need a heavy does of denial to ignore a Gantt chart.

So try using one. I think we can agree that managing the stuff in life like a project is a good idea; and making lists of the stuff you have to do answering some basic, validated questions is a good idea; and using Gantt charts to help visually illustrate how all the pieces are going to fit together from start to finish is a good idea.  If all those things (or at least some of those things) hold true, then what on EARTH is keeping you from taking life by the horns, stripping away all the excuses, and getting meaningful stuff done?  

Yes, I know: progress is messy, tiring work.  Very tiring.  So is being afraid.  But do you know what?  You’re worth it.

Go ahead, make a plan, a list, and a chart.  Like someone recently said to me, if you don’t do the thing you are meant to do then all of the people who were meant to get something out of it WON’T have that opportunity.  

Apparently, there’s a Gantt chart for destiny.

When I was a wee-lad beginning my professional career, fresh out of college, people were still talking about something called “TQM” or “Totally Quality Management.”  Where I worked, managers were extolling the virtues of a 9-step approach to process improvement.  I got my hands on a copy of a document that contained the list, and I quickly typed up a copy to keep on my PC.

Fast forward a decade and change to last week when I was sifting through all the e-clutter contained in my vast and labyrithine data folder structure at work.  What did I find in the bowels of my system?  The 9-step list, sans original context.  Amazingly, and this is as much a testament to Demming’s original ideas as anything else, this process still holds water.  Seriously, it’s a good list!  Of course, today this sort of process seems intuitive because the basic approach has seen many iterations in the time since TQM hit the height of its popularity.  Still, if you don’t already have a process that you use, maybe, just maybe, this dusty old list might come in handy!

The Nine Step Approach to Work

1.    Identify the Purpose

2.    Identify the Customer (s)

3.    Identify the Requirements

4.    Plan an Approach

5.    Select Measurements

6.    Set Goals

7.    Take Action

8.    Evaluate Results

9.    Repeat For Continuous Improvements

I probably should have been more productive today, but I really didn’t feel like it.  That’s a shame, really, because the alternative is to not continue to try and crush lots of hours of to-do into fewer hours of actual-do.  Basic project management problem: too many tasks, too few resources.

The key is in how you measure your resources, though.  That, and how you define “too many.”

In this case, “too many” really means “a bit too many so I don’t really know where to start” which translates into “hey, I haven’t watched ‘Friends’ in a REALLY long time!”  Or, in simpler terms, procrastination.

Ah, yes.  Procrastination!  He is the very good friend of Exhausted.  Together, the two of them make a formidable pair.  Unfortunately, they are pairing and being formidable all over my to-do list.

So, getting back to PM 101, if you have a great big body of work to get done, then figure out what all the pieces are and starting managing to them.  Simple enough.  The hard part is the doing.  I’ll need a little help there, but I know just where to find that help.  Works out well for me.

So, in summary: if you have a great big thing to tackle, approach it like a project.  Break the big thing into smaller things, manage the little things to completion, and find someone to help you.  “Help” can take any form: from cheerleader to mentor to hired gun.  Regardless of who or how many, another body/mind to put to the tasks at hand will help.

It’s not rocket science.  But, like every good rocket, you’ll need some fuel…

Some chapters seem to go on forever.  It isn’t until you are at the end of the chapter that you realize how long it really was.  There is irony in the fact that you don’t know you are taking the long view until you stop to take the long view.

Viva Yogi Bera.

So, I find a lesson in that realization.  Every view is a long view.  Every chapter has the potential to go on indefinitely.  As in writing, in life all chapters end with punctuation of some kind.  Period.  Exclamation.  Question mark.  It doesn’t matter.  There is always something to mark the end.  And the end of a chapter is the end of a chapter simply because that’s where the author chose to end it.  

Get it?  

YOU are the author.  Each chapter ends when you CHOOSE to let it end.  Nothing goes on indefinitely so long as you determine where the ending should go.  If you wait for someone else to end it, you’ll wind up coming to the end of the book, if you catch my meaning.  We author with the assistance of the Editor, but, in the end, the book belongs to us.

So, this chapter ends because I choose for it to end.  The next chapter has already begun.

I can’t think of very many things that I have enjoyed more in the past week than coming home today, exhausted from work and frazzled from the commute, only to be greeted with hugs and kisses by my wife, kids, and parents. That about sums up what it means to be a fortunate human being. I am grateful beyond measure.Not much else that I need to say.

During a teleconference today, a presenter talked about his personal Board of Directors.  He gathers them together once a year, buys them dinner, and talks about himself.  He talks about what we wants out of life.  He talks about his goals for the year.  He talks about his schemes and plans and crazy ideas.  He listens, too.  He listens to their advice.  He listens to their stories.  He listens to their feedback and gentle criticisms.  When it’s all said and done, his personal Board of Directors help him decide the form, focus, and attention of his time, talent, and energy for the coming year.  

I loved the idea.  After I thought about it, though, I realized that I have my own personal Board of Directors already.  I just deal with them individually.  I don’t take them out to dinner.  I don’t let them get to know me within the context of my most intimate sphere of confidants.  I don’t benefit from the combined wisdom of the people I love and trust the most.  No, I deal with them individually and perhaps lose something by not making connections between them.  

That’s a Big Idea for me.  It could be potentially life-shaking.  I need to think about how, if at all, I would do such a thing given the geographical distribution of the people in question.  But none of that matters.  What matters is that this is a gem of an idea.  It is one worth promoting and worth discussing with others.  The possibilities…holy smokes.  The possibilities are incredible.  

So, if you are fortunate enough to have them close by, think about gathering your Board of Directors together for a night of focus on YOU.  I think there is something to be gained my the idea.  You never know; you just might wind up serving on the Board of Directors of a few other people before all it’s over.  We should all be so lucky and so honored.

I was driving down the street the other day when I saw a coqui.  That’s an odd thing to see just outside of Joliet, Illinois.  The coqui is a Puerto Rican tree frog that survives only in tropical environments.  If you’ve been to Illinois, you know it’s FAR from the tropics.  Now, when I was a kid, they used to tell us that the coqui cannot live anywhere but the island of Puerto Rico.  Puerto Ricans love their little frog, and it’s distinctive sing-song call fills the night air.  

Unfortunately, the coqui immigrated to Hawaii.  They multiplied like rabbits on the Australian outback.  They hate them there.  Me…I’d love to sit out on my porch on a warm August evening and listen to the song of the coqui.  Must be a Caribbean thing.

Anyway, so I saw this coqui, and it was on a sign that said, “Coqui To Go.”  Under that there was a banner that said, “Grand Opening.”  Now, I’ve waited for YEARS to have a Puerto Rican restaurant close to me, and this one fits the description.  It’s FIVE MINUTES close.  OK, maybe eight minutes.  So, naturally, when I saw the place, I called my parents, let them know about it, and then did the only reasonable thing: I stepped inside.

Let me tell you, the smell of alcapurrias and pasteles and tostones and lechón is like olfactory crack to any Puerto Rican.  Once you get that whiff, you are absolutely done for.  Just roll the wheel barrow over because I’m gonna need some help getting out of here.

Oh…snap.  I’m a vegetarian.

The end to this very sad tale is that I walked out of there with one order of what turned out to be exquisite and delicious tostones.  I skipped the white rice.  Figured I could make my own at home.  Everything else that was not explicitly fish, shrimp, or steak had some form of pig in it.  Bacon.  Pork chops.  Pig fat.  Seriously.  She told me, “The arroz con gandules has pig fat.”  That’s what she said.  I believe her.  It probably tastes awesome.  It was the first time I felt temptation of that kind enter my bones.

Tonight, as I sat here remembering that moment and writing about it, I thought about another recent moment I shared with a hummingbird, a colibri.  When I was in Tahoe, I sat all by myself out on the deck of the cabin at which we stayed.  On one occasion, I noticed a hummingbird feeder, and within five minutes, there was a hummingbird at the feeder.  In my family, the hummingbird, or colibri, is a special animal.  It has meaning to us.  Sitting there in the presence of that little bird was special to me.  It was a sign that I was communing, as I had hoped, with nature, with the Universe, in a way that transcended my normal daily experience.  Other things happened to solidify that feeling, but the hummingbird was one of those experiences early on that served to draw me into the natural wonders around me.

I can remember how much I enjoyed my Puerto Rican food back in the day, and I can remember how much being a vegetarian makes me feel close to nature.  It’s completely subjective.  It’s probably pretty illogical for some.  But for me, it makes sense; it fits.  The way I see it, a coqui, a colibri, and a Vegi Rican can coexist quite peaceful, neither having anything to fear from the other.  I like the way that works out.

It’s funny how you’re feeling trapped and just a little frustrated one day, set your mind to changing your circumstances, then find yourself in the midst of a maelstrom of swirling changes.  You get what you ask for, I suppose.  Of course, the key is asking in the first place.

In my experience, far too many people ask for far too little.  I think we like having things given to us.  I think we like out-of-the-blue, unexpected surprises.  I think we like to feel like we’re so darn good at the things we do that all kinds of good fortune will come our way.  The problem might arise when all that liking is really passive wishing.  In order to get noticed, you have to do something worth noticing.  A wise and good friend of mine once told me that maybe I should just concentrate on being so darn awesome that it becomes impossible “for them” to ignore my awesomeness.  I liked that idea.  It’s something productive to which we can aspire.

Look, all I’m saying is that you will be pleasantly surprised an awful lot in your life just by virtue of existing.  When you choose to live, to actively pursue, then I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised even more.  Sure, the actions won’t always yield the results we want, but just by virtue of doing more, you’re likely to receive more.  And asking is a form of doing.  

Ask for what you deserve.  Asking sets the proverbial wheels in motion.

Isn’t watching “reality TV” the equivalent of forgoing doing something fantastic and exciting by watching someone else do something fantastic and exciting? It isn’t vicarious living when you don’t even interact with the other person, is it?I love me some “Survivor” but I wonder what else I could do with those 60 minutes…

Following is a true story.  I am deliberately vague so as to protect the innocent.

There once was this guy who was asked to do a presentation for some very important people at a big company.  They had a problem that they believed he could solve, so they asked him what they should do to resolve their problem.  You see, try as they might, they couldn’t fix some problems at their company, so they asked this guy to help them out.

The day of the presentation came.  When he stood before them, the very important people asked, “What should we do?”

The guy said, “You should fire everyone at your company who performs this function and hire a company that specializes in that function to come and take it over for you.”

The very important people sat in stunned silence.  They just blinked at him.

He looked back at them.

“Uh…,” one of them said, “what else can we do?”

He moved on to plans B, C, and D.  Nobody talked about his first plan again.

What’s the moral of the story?  Read into it what you will.  For me, it’s the difference between “should” and “can.”  Sometimes, we just can’t make the hard decision and do what we should do.  Instead, we do something else that we can do, something that feels much safer.  

Language is precise.  I think it’s important to realize what you ask for so that the response doesn’t shock you.  That way, you avoid looking foolish as you backtrack.  Good advice for you, even better advice for me.