RESISTANCE IS FUTILE…

I was sitting at my desk in my office at the shop a couple of hours ago starring at the little red knobs on the file cabinet drawers. That was just about all I was capable of at that particular moment.

Trying to figure out where the time had gone seemed pointless: it was gone. And, that is saying a lot since I started working on today more than an hour earlier than usual, and usual is lot earlier than most folks start their days.

I went to bed early enough, and slept well for the few hours I slept… But, I found myself stretching to get a decent view of the clock on my wife’s night table just so I could figure out how much rest I could still get in if – and, that turned out to be a mighty big ‘if’ – I could just fall back to sleep. The problem was I couldn’t.

In reality, the problem really wasn’t falling back to sleep: the problem was the million and one things – the million and one, really bizarre and odd things, that play across the screen stretched across the inside of your eyelids when your eyes are closed and you are trying to fool yourself into believing you really can fall back to sleep!

I don’t know about you, but I think about the strangest stuff imaginable! And, there is no rhyme or reason to it; is there?

I go from thinking about what I want to do with the outside of the building at work, to designing a new customer satisfaction survey mirror hanger; from the skill sets I will need to look for in our next new-hire, to getting ready for the speaking engagement I have in Pittsburgh at the end of next week; from what to do about the ‘bump steer’ I’m suddenly experiencing in my car, to the book I just finished…

There is this raging river of thoughts and ideas running through my head leading to an Angel’s Falls drop: but, instead of forming some kind of an idea ‘pool’ at the bottom and then gently flowing off, these thoughts and ideas start bouncing around like a thousand SuperBalls dropped from the roof of the Empire State Building.

They bounce high… They bounce hard… They bounce in just about every conceivable direction! And, some of them are pretty damned scary!

The only thing that saved me this morning was that book I just finished. It helped me understand where, at least, some of this internal dialogue was coming from and the sinister nature of its intent.

The book was Linchpin, by Seth Godin. And, if you haven’t read it, you need to!

No, I don’t care what your interests are – this is a critically important book, regardless.

It’s about human nature and the nature of being human, as much as anything else. And, aside from the fact that it is beautifully written, it helped me understand and confront a demon I’ve been battling for most of my life – that little voice inside your head narrating the images moving across that screen inside your head I was just talking about.

Its formal name is Amygdala, but Godin refers to it simply as the “Lizard Brain.” The amygdale is our ‘first’ brain: our prehistoric, pre-evolutionary brain. Its concerns are more basic than basic: food, sex, fight and flight. It’s the self-talk that isn’t just satisfied to scream out for you to be careful – it is the voice inside your head that will not allow you to take any risk at all!

Before reading Linchpin I didn’t know what the voice was, nor did I understand what mischief it is always up to. After, Linchpin: I understand enough about what it is and what it’s up to, to challenge it!

I’m sure I’ll be writing about both this book, and another Godin book, Tribes, over the next few weeks. After all, they are all I can think about when I’m not thinking about all this other weird stuff!

In the meantime, I think I’ll lie down, close my eyes and try not to think about anything, for at least for a little while!

A Difficult Day...

Today was a difficult day... Actually, it wasn't today... as in: Sunday the 21st. Today was a difficult day as in: Thursday, February 17th - that's when I started writing this and the fact that it took four days to get it down on paper might suggest just how difficult it was!

Not for any special reason. Just, because...

It started out that way, and once begun, I guess there was just no way to effectively turn things around. Another day of re-acting, rather than acting. 

I'm not a big fan of days that begin this way. They result in far too much philosophical reflection as far as I'm concerned. And, realistically, I would rather be "doing" than "thinking" anyway!

There was no indication I would be sailing with the "Tidy Bowl Man" when I awoke this morning. In fact, I felt pretty good. So good, I decided to dine out for breakfast and a turkey sausage and egg soufflé at Panera sounded absolutely wonderful. Those of you who might be following this blog already know that eating breakfast out was a family ritual for more than thirty-eight years. It was the best way my father could find to keep the family in our family business, and it worked. However, since I'm the only Schneider at Schneider's Automotive these days, dining out has lost a lot of its significance and consequently, its appeal.

Instead of anxiously looking forward to the sense of community breakfast provided first thing each morning, I find myself eating out when being alone and reflecting on the last few days or planning for the next seems somehow necessary or more important than working out or sleeping in.

This morning was one of those "reflective" mornings... At least, it did until I found someone from the original breakfast club sitting down at my booth.

Please don’t misunderstand! I like this person. I really do! I just didn’t want company THIS particular morning and things just naturally seemed to go to hell from there. She can be a bit negative at times: Why am I doing this? I hate it! I want to retire… NOW!

That kind of negativity can be contagious and this morning, I caught it!

After arriving at work there were problems with suppliers, customers, equipment and technicians… just about my whole universe when you think about it. Even one of the dogs was limping when I got in: an open sore on his right front paw which meant an unscheduled trip to the Vet.

There was a time when me at the nexus of all of these things coming together would have been more than enough send me into the bathroom for a serious attempt to drown myself in the toilet, but the way things were going I was pretty sure it would just back up, and…

I think you get the visual.

That being said, I’m not the same person I was a number of years ago when my reaction would have been less than mature, or adult, or even appropriate.

Now, I just try to back up a little and reflect… Reflect on what just happened... Reflect on why it may have happened… Reflect on the role I may have played in causing it to happen… You get the idea.

Instead of internalizing everything, I try to back away at least a little and process it all with an: “Isn’t that fascinating…” Or, two. You would be surprised how much of a difference not taking these kinds of problems personally can really make on your day, especially when they seem to be occurring minute-by-minute and with frightening regularity.

What makes it all worse is being a professional technician by trade. I’ve spent my life ‘fixing’ stuff and problems like these fall into the “This needs fixing NOW!” bucket. The only problem is that not everything in the bucket can be fixed right now… As a matter of fact, not all the broken things you are likely to encounter can be fixed at all; At least, not by you!

You see, if it wasn’t ‘yours’ to break, it isn’t likely you’re going to be able to ‘fix’ it: I mean, really fix it! You may find a work around or two, but “Fixed?” I don’t think so! The people who broke it are going to have to fix it – and, that’s only fair.

And, the minute you begin to realize that a day that started out to be difficult can get a whole lot easier… And, it did!

0:Dark:Thirty

Old habits really do die hard... Like getting up long before the Sun decides to shake off the night's comforting darkness. Or, getting home long after the Sun has gone to bed itself.

That's been my routine for so long I can't remember a different time. It started on Saturday mornings with my Dad. Up at four o'clock in the morning, dressed and out before four-thirty, fishing on the sand at Jones Beach on Long Island, on the road and at work in Bensonhurst before seven. After we moved to California and found ourselves - me included, this time - back in the automotive service business in a 24-hour service station in Santa Monica, the cycle of short - very short - nights and long days returned. Only, there really aren't any 'set' hours in a 24-hour service station. At least, there weren't when we first opened in 1966.

We would go to work early and leave whenever we were done, regardless of the hour. Add the occasional "missed shift," where someone fails to show up and you find yourself working twenty hours and not just the 'normal' ten, and the boundaries between work and life began to evaporate, and not so slowly.

Years ago, my father determined that the day went more smoothly if we started it with breakfast: sort of like easing into the pool slowly, rather than just throwing yourself headlong into the icy water. Subsequently, breakfast became a ritual - even when no one was talking to each other!

There was a simple and inherent wisdom in that when you think about it. Even when we were at war with each other and not speaking - which didn't happen often, but did happen - someone would ultimately have to say, "Please pass the salt..." And, the fire that fuels most family feuds would ultimately die out.

This 'tradition' of early morning breakfasts continued for the better part of forty years, through countless restaurants and greasy-spoon breakfast emporiums. It transcended family battles, good times and bad, here in Simi and before that, in Santa Monica, and it served our family well.

Now, that I'm the only Schneider still standing at Schneider's Automotive, it is a tradition or habit or whatever it is, still.

I'm up before six, regardless... Regardless, of whether it is Monday morning with a 'solid' day on the books or Saturday when I could actually 'sleep in.' But, there are differences... With the exception of one or two of the regular places we ate for years where a basic breakfast club formed - and, even that's not the same when you find yourself sitting by yourself in a booth that once accommodated four or five - eating alone is different: not the same.

I still get up early... too early, probably. And, I still eat breakfast... albeit, a protein shake or a bowl of oatmeal. But, I find myself dining alone for the most part.

I still leave the house in the dark and most nights won't return until long after the Sun has gone down. But, now, I head straight to work after fixing breakfast and try to get as much paperwork and planning done before the phones start ringing and the people start coming in.

You would be surprised at just how much you can get accomplished - how much more you can get accomplished - without interruption: without distraction!

And, that's what I've been doing for the past hour or so: that is, of course, with the exception of chatting with you.

I've done the deposit. Finished signing the payroll checks. Planned for the rest of the week, more or less. Worked on our marketing plan for the coming year. Thought about the conference call I have scheduled for later on this morning to identify training for the Industry, big "I," conference scheduled for this coming October. Finished up my notes for the presentation I will deliver in Santa Barbara later on this evening. And, still managed to reflect on breakfast with my Mom, Dad and whoever else dropped by.

Not a bad morning when you think about it. Especially, when you consider that it began at 0:Dark:Thirty in the morning...

A RELUCTANT TOURIST…

We just returned home from a day out…

We left the house at about ten this morning and pulled into the driveway just after eight: a ten hour day spent wandering up and down the Coast of California.

My wife’s aunt flew in from New Jersey last Tuesday – a good week to get out of the snow and cold – and today, Saturday, was the first full day I got to participate in the sightseeing.

Of course, that was after awakening at 0:Dark:Thirty for breakfast, coffee – Java Johnny’s for some ‘real’ coffee: an espresso double-shot to get the day crank-started simply referred to by all as the “Special – to the shop for some paperwork, and then home again to begin the rest of the day!

The rest of the day started with a trip to the wine country just above Santa Barbara: the area around Los Olivos and Santa Ynez (remember the movie Sideways?). It’s what the cowboys would call a “’fer piece” from here, especially when there was a difference of opinion swirling around how to get there. I kind of remembered driving there years ago – more years ago than I can remember – through Buellton (Anderson Pea Soup?) and Solvang (Danish anything…): up the 101 Freeway to the 246 and then over. My wife insisted that we had already passed the 246 by the time we got to California 154 (we hadn’t, but I couldn’t convince her) – the route that takes you through the Los Padres National Forest and past Lake Cachuma: what I would call “the back way.”

I tried to suggest – I’m not sure convince would be the right word to use in this particular instance – that my way would be shorter and faster, but she was sure the “my way” option was literally behind us. Consequently, we got to see both the forest and the lake, which wasn’t really such a bad thing considering this was one of those magnificent February California afternoons that sets folks on the East Coast still reeling from the record snow falls to thinking about why they are living there instead of here. Or, at least, it should!

After the heavy rains we’ve had just recently everything was Technicolor perfect. The ride, even going the long way: maybe, especially because we went the long way, was breathtaking.

We stumbled upon a great little restaurant in Los Olivos: Patrick’s Side Street Café, had a great Pinot Noir, then took in the Santa Ynez Valley, made it to Solvang, Buellton and then Santa Barbara. We left Santa Barbara and worked our way through the hills of Montecito back to the freeway, through Ventura, Oxnard, Camarillo and then ‘Home again, Home again: Jiggety, Jig.’

It would probably be safe to say that my wife’s aunt was blown away by the raw beauty of this part of California. If she wasn’t, she sure should have been because I was and I’ve lived here for the better part of forty-eight years!

The only thing I could think of was that this truly is the Golden State… and, the poppies aren’t even in bloom yet!

Well, that’s not altogether true. That wasn’t the only thing I was thinking of. I was thinking of the fact that I really didn’t want to go – “other things to do” and all the other stuff we use to rationalize wrong decisions like that. But, I went anyway and became a reluctant tourist of sorts: and, in the process realized that having people come from someplace else, forcing you to show them the host of wonders we take for granted because we live here and it’s easy – the ‘we’ being just about every one of us regardless of where we live and what those wonders are – is a wonderful thing!

It’s a wonderful thing because there is great beauty everywhere that seems somehow even more delicious when confronted with it, even reluctantly: especially, when you recognize and appreciate the wonder in watching hawks circle over head waiting for their lunch to begin, the stillness of a mountain lake or the sun setting on the Pacific.

Today was one of those days I was really glad my father came home after being trapped in Brooklyn for five days during the Winter of 1962, and very quietly mentioned that we would be in California by mid-August… Certainly, a lot happier than I remember being then!

I'm Sick and Sick Sucks!

I'm sick!

Not the kind of sick that sends you sprinting into the arms of a psychiatrist, although I know a number of people who would argue that's exactly where I belong.

And, who knows: in the end they could be right! Aside from that, who am I to argue! Especially, when the numbers suggest that one out of every four people is nuts. Think about that for a moment: one out of four! If that really is the case, you need to think about your three best friends. Do they seem normal? Are they OK? If they do, and if they are: chances are you're "the One!"


But, even that's OK. Because, I for one, think 'normal' is more than a little over rated!

I'm talking about 'sick' as in infirmed. You know, head stuffed up, runny nose, chest congestion, head ache, and on and on and on! the kind of sick that makes you look terrible and feel worse, the kind of sick you won't do anything about because you think it's 'just a cold' and going to go away any minute. That's the kind of sick I'm talking about...

When it became apparent the symptoms were getting worse and not better, I began to think it might not be a cold after all: I decided it had to be the flu! But, which one...

Was it the 'normal,' run of the mill kind of influenza that's currently making its rounds? Or, could it be something more exotic? After all, I did fly to Philadelphia and back. I was in an airplane: an aluminum alloy germ factory, for more than ten hours! The temperature change was violent: seventy degrees here, twenty-five there. In fact, I just missed the almost three feet of snow they just experienced!

And, what about that weird guy in seat just behind me... the one hacking up a lung all the way to Los Angeles! He didn't look like he was from either Philadelphia or L.A. In fact, he didn't look or sound like he was from anywhere on this side of the world.

He looked like a carrier, if I ever saw one: the kind of guy who wouldn't miss an opportunity to kiss a pig!
Or, that woman... the one just across from me, the one with the little kid who kept sneezing. Or, the flight attendant with the runny nose.

That was just a week ago, and now I'm the one sneezing: the one coughing, the one with the runny nose.
I let this run its course for last couple of days hoping against hope I would turn the corner and start to feel better. I took my vitamins, downed my supplements, drank my orange juice: all to no avail. So, this afternoon I went to the doctor only to find out that what thought was a cold in the beginning, and the flu in the end: was really bronchitis coupled with a sinus infection complicated by a very, very sore throat!
The doctor told me to go home and get into bed... I told her that she's been reading too much fiction! I can't. I don't have that luxury. And, I'm not sure I would go home and get into bed even if I could. I know there are plenty of things you can do in bed when you're feeling OK. But, what is there to do in bed besides sleep WHEN YOU ARE FEELING LOUSY!


And, that's not the worst of it! Being sick is annoying and downright inconvenient! I want to go to the "Y" and swim. I can't - partially, because I know I'll sink to the bottom of the pool and drown the way I feel right now. And, partially, because I don't want to be the guy responsible for getting half the people in the pool sick: the one responsible for the next pandemic!

I want to get back to my martial arts training. But, I can't, pretty much for the same reasons. I have all kinds of other things to do. But, I can't. For the most part, because I've got nothing left by the time I get home from the shop at night.

So, if you come to the shop tomorrow don't shake my hand. If you do, ask for the Purell. It's waiting for both of us just behind where I sit. I'll understand. In the meantime, I'm going to take the bag full of medication the doc prescribed for me and get into bed because I'm sick and sick sucks, and the only thing I feel like doing is sleep...

Teach A Man (Or, A Woman...) To Fish....

I wrote this for my other blog and finished it just a few minutes ago. After reading it through a second time I kind of think it belongs here to...  So, here it is.

I love to teach...

Well, that's not actually one hundred percent accurate. What I really love is to help people. And, the way I do that, and have done it in the past, is by sharing what I know and what I have learned over the years.

I do it at the service counter with our clients every day. Or, at least I try to.

I do it through the columns I contribute to the magazines I write for and through the books I've written... Or, at least I try to.

I do it in seminar work I've done and the keynotes I've delivered... And, yes, you guessed it: Or, at least I try to.

And, I've done it with just about everyone that's ever worked here. In fact, I don't think there is anyone who has ever worked here for either my father or myself who hasn't learned something: something about themselves, or something about their profession while in our care and custody.

Sharing what you've learned and what you know is powerful. The exchange that takes places changes both the teacher and the student for ever in profound and powerful ways neither is likely to understand. At least, not while it's happening. But, the foundation for those changes is poured when the first gift of knowledge is offered.

It's fascinating, really. One moment your content with everything you know. And, the next you are confronted with something new: something that can and will change you forever.

Why? How?

Because, no matter how hard you try or how much you resist, you really can't isolate yourself from experience or ideas if or when they are properly, or effectively, or dramatically, or passionately, presented. You can disagree. You can try to ignore what you have been exposed to. You can fight to remain static: unmoved. But, even the act of any of those actions (or,non-actions) is a direct result of the new knowledge you have gained.

The more 'new things' you've tried, the more experiences you've had, and the more mistakes you've made: the more you have to offer those around you. When you've been as successful as I have at any or all of the above, you have a lot to offer! And, offer it you must...

That's what we're doing right now at the shop. We're sharing what we - all of us - have learned over the years with two young entry-level people and it's more fun and more rewarding than ought to be legal. What makes it even better is the raw energy and enthusiasm they bring to the workplace - the curiosity and the questions - the constant attention they require - and the thought and consideration that has to go into every response.

Teaching makes the teacher(s) sharper: better, in almost every way, just for that reason... If you care.
When a new-hire asks you what you're doing or why you're doing it a certain way, you are forced to you to look at everything you do with a critical eye.

Why do we do this? Because, that's the way we've always done it?

Why do we do it this way and not that? Do we recognize the choices available to us, or are we lost in the subtle sameness and comfort of the familiar?

When asked about hiring practices an old friend would simply say: "Hire for attitude. Train for ability. You can train someone to deliver great customer service - But, you can't train them to want to!"

That kind of says it all, doesn't it.

Well, the two people we're working with are filled with attitude. Not the kind of edgy, in-your-face attitude that you see on the street or in the movies: the kind that makes you want to show up early so you don't miss anything! And, that kind of enthusiasm and attitude is contagious. It filled the shop today and had just about everyone smiling. I can't say that it will last. Or, how long everyone will be riding this 'high.' But, I can promise we'll do everything we can to keep it going because it just plain feels like the right thing to do!

It feels great to share that knowledge - and, in our shop that knowledge totals well over a hundred years! And, it feels better to watch the changes that are taking place: the changes I spoke about earlier, transform these kids.

It's the ultimate: "Give a man a fish and you feed him for one day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime!"

We're teaching a couple of young kids just starting out how to fish: we're teaching them how to fish smart, how to fish efficiently and how to fish intelligently. And, in the process, we are becoming better fishermen ourselves.

Guilt By Association...

I feel guilty... almost, like I was cheating on a friend. I should have checked in Friday night or, certainly, some time on Saturday: Maybe, even this morning. But, I definitely feel like I should have checked in...

What does that feel like? Well, it kind of feels like 'playing hookie.' (Does anyone still call it that? Has that expression been lost somehow, like so many of the other expressions I grew up with: A victim of "generational context?"). Whatever it is: it feels like you really should be somewhere else, doing something else... that you're not!

Now, the entire weekend has gotten away from me and I feel as if I've been untrue somehow. Trying to rationalize it all, I know I shouldn't feel this way. After all, it's not like I spent the weekend in bed or sprawled out on the couch. I didn't! I swear it!

In fact, I didn't even get to watch the whole Super Bowl: just the first Quarter - which I watched while visiting my Mother; and, then the last two Quarters and the end of the game, at home. I was driving home while the Second Quarter - Perhaps, the best Quarter, if you are a Saints fan - was being played.

To some degree, at least: that's the heart of the problem! I'm always running somewhere to do something: something, it seems, I absolutely must do - and, generally, for someone else and not me!

Do I have to tell you how frustrating that can be? I didn't think so! Especially, when you start off exhausted most Friday nights. That exhaustion is almost always the result of a fifty-five or sixty hour work week: and, that's just the hours spent at work Monday through Friday. It doesn't count all the 'stuff' you have to... Or, at least, I have to do on the weekends in order to stay current. I think that's what makes it so hard. You come home completely "torched" Friday after work and then you find yourself desperately trying to cram five quarts of everything into a one gallon container for the rest of the weekend.

The cold hard truth is; it won't fit... At least, not without making a mess!

So, it was off to the shop Saturday morning for at least a couple of 'quiet' hours: productive hours. Home for some errands... Swimming at the "Y" for me!

Did I mention that I started swimming. I wanted to say: Did I mention that I started swimming again, but the fact of the matter is... what I was doing before wasn't really swimming. It was more like not drowning than it was like swimming! Now, I'm actually trying to teach myself how to move through the water as effectively (and, gracefully) as I can while expending as little energy as possible. That means learning how to breathe as well as the other, more technical elements of swimming like proper kicking, arm movements, body position, et al. And, Saturday was the best time in the water I've had so far!

I didn't get as tired as fast as I have in the past. I was able to keep my heart from exploding. I did more laps with more different strokes - I wonder if that's where the expression came from? And, I wasn't as sore this morning. Consequently, I'll be there again tomorrow morning before the sun gets up!

After the pool, it was off to volunteer at an event where my wife works. And, then, out with some of the other volunteers afterward.

I know there was other stuff... But, to tell you the truth, there was so much of it I can't remember what it was!

Today was more of the same. Only we managed to visit my mother some fifteen or twenty miles away, ran some more errands, got some more work done, watched a little football, and did some more work.

Now, I'm finally checking in again.

Outside of going to the "Y," I can honestly say that nothing I did was for me. At least, not in the sense that it was only for me. In fact, just about everything I did was done for some other person or organization.

I'd like to make the argument that it shouldn't be that way, but I can't. Although, I'm not sure how much rest I really allowed myself, everything I did felt 'right' somehow. Everything I did, albeit, for someone or something else - needed to be done. So, I guess it's a good kind of exhaustion: the kind that helps heal the world... And, that really does make it OK. At least, it does for me.

And, if I am guilty of trying to do too much, it's a kind of guilt by association, I suppose. Guilty of doing too much of the right kind of things, things that really do need to get done... And, guilty of associating with the right kind of people, the kind of people who do the right kinds of things because they are the right things to do.

Now, it's off to bed... and, finally, some rest!

ARRRRGGGGGHHHH!

I hate to keep whining about traveling, but it’s been a while since I’ve found myself a prisoner of the airlines; my time and my life in the hands of a TSA agent who decided I appear to be more of a menace than the scowling, beady-eyed Mullah with no visible body hair going through the line just ahead of me. Maybe, I’ve lost it… Maybe, the blessed interval in between flying fifty to a hundred thousand miles a year and the more than a year and a half I took off was enough to dull the pain and allow the horrid memories to evaporate. But, it just seemed harder somehow this last trip.

Maybe, it was the early morning flight: one leaving, and this morning’s absurdly early flight home (Yes, I was the one who made the reservations so I really don't have anyone else to blame.). Or, it could have been the different nature of the engagements altogether. Who knows…

Normally, I fly on Fridays to present a six or seven hour seminar on Saturday (during the day), have dinner and then head home early Sunday morning. I know – I spend more time on the road, at the airport and in the air than wherever it is I’m working and for the most part, I was OK with that. It was the compromise I decided I could live with between helping other shop owners avoid the same mistakes I’ve made over all these many years and “sticking close to the knitting” with regard to my own automotive service business. And, for a very long time it proved to be a good model.

This time I flew out early Monday morning to be in the Greater Philadelphia area for an hour-long presentation Tuesday evening; repeated again the following night, a couple of hours down (Or, was it ‘up?’) the Interstate, in another community; followed by a long drive to the airport; and, a ‘first flight’ out this morning.

Normally, I wouldn’t complain. Especially, since both presentations were received very well by capacity crowds of shop owners who were dialed in and right there with me both nights! I was happy… REALLY happy! My host was happy… The shop owners seemed happy… Everyone was happy...

But, right now, I’m sitting here at forty thousand feet, traveling at over five hundred miles an hour, wondering why I did it and whether or not I should even consider doing it again.

It could have been all the “stuff” I left on my desk in the rush to get out Monday morning, like the laptop's charger and the USB tether for my Blackberry that I found myself searching for frantically Tuesday morning. All of which I had to replace almost instantly (Let's hear it for the Best Buy just down the road from the hotel!)!

That was the bad news. The good news is that after purchasing a universal assortment of each accessory I can now charge any… And, I mean any… laptop computer made by any manufacturer in the known universe and connect to and transfer data to or from any phone or PDA made today – If we’re traveling together the next time you’re out and you need either, just let me know!

It could have been finding the only Starbucks I have ever patronized that DIDN’T have WiFi available and then struggling to find a location that did.

It could have been the long drive back to the airport hotel, followed by a mid-night treasure hunt for someplace to purchase fuel Wednesday night instead of frantically searching for a gas station at 0:Dark:Thirty in the morning (translate 0:Dark:Thirty as in before 5:00 A.M.) which somehow led me to the Sports Complex five times no matter where I went or where I tried to go!

After this experience I can tell you one thing for certain: there isn’t a hell of a lot going on at the Sports Complex at mid-night!

It could have been getting pulled out of the security line… again!

Whatever it was, it has gotten harder. It is more difficult. And, it isn’t as ‘pleasant:’ if pleasant is a term you could ever use to describe business travel, as it once was.

Nevertheless, despite all my bitching and moaning, I probably will do it again – maybe, not as much. And, maybe, not as often – but, I will find myself headed to the airport too early or coming home too late, or going back to work at the shop too tired, from a trip very much like this one because I love the teaching/sharing/interacting part of what I do. I love the shop owners I do it for as well. They are a very special group: another ‘endangered species’ on the verge of extinction that has no idea how much trouble they are in or the dangers they are facing.

What I really love and appreciate are the companies that host presentations like these regardless of who the presenters might be or what they might be presenting. They take profit dollars out of their own pocket to ensure their customers get the education and training they need even when those very same customers don’t necessarily understand how important it is or much they need it.   

I’ll probably do it again because I’m addicted to the sparkling moment of awareness that occurs every so often: the light that goes on in the eyes of someone sitting three rows in front of you on the right. Or, the guy on the left in the back that is struggling to get every word down on paper because he knows that there is something in there that has the potential to change his life. Or, the shop owner and his thirteen-year-old daughter who is desperately trying to figure out how to get the help he needs before he burns out, implodes or self-destructs.

How can you not go out when you feel you have something to offer?

Despite all the pain and inconvenience, I wouldn’t believe me if I said this was the last time. I know my wife won't. 

So, I guess the real question is why should anyone else believe me?

On Being Alone Together

How many of you like… I mean, really LIKE traveling on business?

That’s what I thought! It's like asking how many of you like to sleep alone… Or, eat alone… Or, sit in a room filled with strangers… alone.

I know I don’t like it: like, as in relish or look forward to.

The airlines have taken the joy and excitement – Well, maybe not the excitement! – out of flying anywhere. After all, half the time you won’t know whether or not you’re actually going to get where you are going until you arrive at the airport and find out whether or not your flight has been  cancelled or how long it's been delayed. Even when everything goes smoothly you can be reasonably certain you’ll be press-fit between two individuals, who like everything else in our society, have been super-sized. Or, you are wedged up against the window. Or, you wind up sitting on the aisle getting your foot, knee, shoulder or elbow bruised and bloodied every time the food cart  moves up or down because the aisles are too narrow because the seats are too damned close together. GRRRRRRRRRR!

Add to that the screaming infants, 4^th grade field trip classes or being forced to sit next to the ‘goat herder’ and his family, and you have an experience everyone could live very nicely without!                  

How many of you have ever wondered about the safety announcements. I mean, really: how many people are there in the world who have never fastened a seat belt before… But, after the last few trips, I’m willing to bet there are lots of people who have never flown before. In fact, I’ll bet there are lots of people flying who have never been in the company of civilized human beings before. If they have, they sure act like they haven't!

Now, I am just sitting here in a hotel room just outside Philadelphia waiting for an 11:00 A.M. conference call to come through. After that, it’s lunch with a shop owner who will be attending the meeting I’ll keynote later on this evening, and then back to the hotel. Following that, it’s “Lather, Rinse, Repeat!”

The same thing tomorrow evening: An instant replay in a different community.

I know… I know… Quite whining! If you don’t like it: Don’t do it!

Great advice! But, there is a problem. While I can’t stand traveling for all the reasons identified above, I do love helping other shop owners. And, one of the most effective ways to help them is to be where they are: to be up close and personal. So, every so often I find myself sitting alone in a hotel room waiting: waiting to eat, waiting to be picked up, waiting to present, or just waiting to come home.

The only thing that makes any of it worthwhile is knowing there will be someone there this evening who really needs to hear what I have to say: who really wants to hear what anyone speaking directly to them has to say. 

They need to know they are not alone and that’s why I do it, even if it means sitting here alone to get it done...

That Was Then... This Is Now...

I think I'm finally starting to find a way into 2010.

I don't want to seem impatient. After all, it's only January 7th. But, I think I'm starting to find a rhythm: my rhythm. The problem is, I'm not altogether comfortable with exactly how that rhythm feels yet. It's a work/life balance 'thing' I'm just going to have work my way through. The problem is, working my way through it is complicated given the nature of everything I do.

Because of everything I do, I made a concerted effort to shed responsibilities: to simplify my life, both at home and at work. I was successful, although that success did not come without at least

Last year was difficult for me and just about everyone I know. Nevertheless, we all managed to get through it somehow. That actually sounds easier than it was. We have an automotive service business and despite what the pundits suggest: life can't be good for me and the people who work with me if it isn't good for the people we serve

In many ways, it feels like it's going to be an extension of 2009 - And, that's OK. We made it through 2009 and that wasn't