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.
Category: Uncategorized
The Board of Directors of Me
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.
El Coqui, El Colibri, y El Vegetariano
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.
Ask
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.
Reality TV: A Few Short Words
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…
The Difference Between “Should” and “Can”
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.
The One Thing…I Learned While Driving…
The one thing I learned while driving across half of the United States is that the answers are already within you. I’m going to go out on a limb and add the word “always” to that notion. That’s not to say that you can’t receive encouragment from outside (Jeff) or wisdom (Julie) or unconditional love and support (Lynn). And then there old fashion listening (Luis). All that is there, and all that is real. However, when you go looking for God, the Universe, or some other bolt of lighting from Above…well, just like a lightning strike, half the power and the energy comes from some place on the Earth. That’s what I learned: whatever exists out there is in “here,” as well. I sort of knew I already had my answer. What I needed was the peace and the quiet to listen to my inner voice, my higher self. A little cabin in the woods helped, but it was always mainly about me.
Cabin in the Woods
There is a cabin in the woods. I arrived there in complete and total darkness. I could see little else but the cabin itself and the few trees illuminated by the light from the car. I opened the car door, and the smell of pine rushed in. And to my utter surprise, the sound of running water filled the air. There is a river nearby.
Considering what I wish to achieve while I am here, that is no coincidence.
There is a stream, literal and figurative, for the wading. So, I am here. I am ready. I am listening.
The Art of Rolling Snowballs
There’s one skill that I haven’t mastered: the art of snowball rolling. In theory, one should be able to start with a tightly packed snowball, roll it, and wind up with a behemoth of a snow boulder. This is how snowmen are built. I have seen them with my own eyes in my own neighborhood. I recall once, on The Quad of the University of Illinois, watching some students rolling a ball along the length of The Quad during a really heavy snowfall. They rolled the biggest honkin’ snow boulder I’ve ever seen. It was crazy. I swore I’d roll one of my own some day.
Not every swear yields results, though.
My yard today is pretty heavily inclined in spots. I have enough room and enough of a hill to get a good ball rolling. I’m not talking about a little hand-packed snowball, either. I’m thinking that there’s enough room for a mid-sized snow boulder. The key word is “thinking” because I’m not “making” a mid-sized snow boulder when I’m laboring out there in the bone-chilling cold of an Illinois winter. What I’m really making in those instances is a modest snowball that leaves a trail behind it when I roll it but acquires no additional mass. I’m obviously missing something.
Snowballs are a funny thing to think about in August. Regardless, in nature, the rolling snowball scenario requires no human intervention. It just happens. I’ve not observed it myself, but it happens all the same. Often in life, there are snowballs rolling all around us. Many of them we don’t initiate. We’re not even always aware of them. But then there are the ones that we do start rolling.
In the world of metaphors, I’ve almost mastered the art of snowball rolling. At minimum, I’ve gotten pretty good at it.
The One Thing…I Learned from Tito Puente
I’m wasn’t a music major in college. I don’t have a vast library of music in my home. I barely have any jazz music, and even less could be considered Latin jazz. Or mambo. Or whatever other categorization people use for the music of Tito Puente. So, take everything I say with a grain of salt, OK?
Pardon the language, but I could listen to Tito Puente all day long. Seriously, all the fucking day long. Have your tired it? Oh, you really must. His stuff is genius. He does this rendition of “Take Five,” the classic Jazz piece by Paul Desmond made famous by the Dave Brubeck Quartet. You know it, trust me. EVERYONE with ears has heard it. If you are deaf, then please accept my sincere apology and even more sincere condolences. “Take Five” is like a slice of red velvet cake accompanied by a frothy cappuccino that is spiked with Kahlua. Exquisite. You can watch this groovy video over at YouTube to jog the memory:
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Exquisite. Dave Brubeck plays the piano in this piece. Paul Desmond is the cat playing the alto sax. There’s something unique about the time signature that I don’t understand, but, for Pete’s sake, who the heck has to understand it to enjoy this song. It melts me. It makes me want to cry. It sinks in deep, deep into a warm place at my core, and grooves. Exquisite.
So, the original is the definition of cool. Tito’s version? Well, imagine Latino cool. Better yet, imagine Tito Puente cool. Check it out here:
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What do you think? The original is in a class all it’s own, for sure. Tito’s version, though, is a great homage with Tito’s undeniable fingerprint. That piano riff that starts the song out remains the same. Then the layers start, and that’s where the jazz becomes Latin jazz. Tito just take it someplace different without losing the whole point of the groove. I feel it in that same place. It feels a little different, a little sassier.
The recorded track that I play over and over again is about 6 minutes long. Almost from the start, you know you’re listening to a Tito Puente track, but it isn’t until minute 5 that you can actually HEAR Tito’s signature sound. The master timbalero doesn’t make his presence known until the end of the song. And THAT, my friends, is what makes him great.
Tito Puente didn’t always have to have the spotlight. When he was on stage, he owned the stage and the audience. I went to one of his live performances when I was still in college. It was phenomenal. There was no mistaking why anyone was there. You went to see Tito do his thing. And his thing was magic. However, when you listen to one of his CD’s, you get a different take on the man. The showman, the ham, the rebellious timbalero sort of disappears. He fades in and out of your consciousness. Some times he’s right there, in your face, undeniably Tito. Then on the next track, he’s gone. He’s in the background somewhere, just another layer adding character to the piece. I love that about him.
Not to knock Kenny G, but every Kenny G song is so obviously a Kenny G song meant to spotlight Kenny G. The dude has talent, no doubt. And he’s also the secret in the secret sauce. Not much of a secret, really. With a Tito Puente album, you have to follow his thread. He weaves in and out of the melodies, taking center stage for a spell, then adding richness to the chorus behind a classic piano piece in “Take Five.” Like I said, I don’t know the music lingo. What I do know is that Tito Puente loved the music, adored the music, and, above all else, respected the musicians who gave of themselves to play the music. He honored them by sharing the spotlight with them.
So, the one thing I learned from Tito Puente is to always be generous in your work.
Illuminate Possibilities 