Beach Balls, Truth and Innovation
Have you ever tried holding a small beach ball under water? It’s not too difficult at first… but the longer you try to hold it down, the harder it becomes. At some point, the upward force (buoyant force) wins and the beach ball surfaces. Back in 200 BC, Archimedes, the brilliant Greek scientist, discovered the deeper you hold a buoyant object underwater, the higher it shoots above the surface once it’s released. Buoyancy = weight of displaced fluid. Archimedes’ principle seems to apply to truth as well. Try as you may to keep it hidden, eventually it surfaces.
One technique I’ve used to hide a ball in the pool is to sit on it. This seems clever at first, but it’s a bit risky… one wrong move and the ball shoots right out from underneath you and flies out of the water for all to see. This is what happened to Bernie Madoff… he made some bad moves, lost his balance, and the truth surfaced in a flash. Sometimes, if you’re careful and have enough power, you can let the ball up slowly. This is what the tobacco industry did regarding the dangers of smoking. They realized the truth was going to surface sooner than later… so they let it up slowly. Whether it’s a beach ball or the truth, it’s not a matter of if or how it will surface, but when. At some point, even master beach ball hiders need to leave the pool and take a break. Read more
Being Present
A mother and her two children were seated a few tables away from my wife and me last night at dinner. The mom looked to be in her late 30s, her son around 14, and her daughter a few years younger than him. Perhaps it was because we were sitting in the corner or maybe it was just an acoustical phenomenon of sorts, but despite the relatively loud music, we could hear their conversation—perfectly.
The mom’s remarks were short, but she seemed very focused on proper protocol… sit up straight, shut your mouth, sit still, leave your sister alone, use your fork, be quiet, ignore him, don’t speak that way… and so on. Then I glanced over to discover her real focus—a mobile phone. She was texting and didn’t want to be disturbed. Sadly, she continued doing so throughout the entire dinner. Try as they might, neither kid could get her to join them in their world—the real world. Both were vying (unsuccessfully) for her attention.
I tried ignoring them, but it was difficult. She was oblivious… unaware that some day she would look up and they’d be gone. I felt compelled to go over and explain to her that whatever it was she was texting about would almost certainly pale in comparison to spending this special time with her two offspring. But I didn’t. “Maybe it takes grown children to be aware of these things,” Anne suggested. She’s probably right.
Even so, this mom seemed blind to the fact that precious moments only appear once—then they’re gone—forever. That’s how moments work. Each one is uniquely special… and then it’s gone. Life happens with or without us. Our kids grow up, our peers and loved ones move on and eventually we all die… that’s reality. Life exists within each moment… and when we aren’t present, we miss it.
We can’t travel back in time and do it again. In life there are no “do-overs”… this is it. The past and future exist only in our minds… the present is our only reality. Whether it’s business, family or a random encounter with a stranger… don’t waste your precious moments not being present. Reality is right now… this moment. For both the giver and receiver, being present is the greatest present of all… a real gift.
Sacred Cows and Innovation
Without all the pieces, it’s hard to solve a puzzle… and developing innovative solutions is no different. I’ve always considered the creative process a search for truth. That’s what I love about creativity… it has no “sacred cows*”… everything is fair game and anything is possible. When you consider that creativity fuels innovation, the notion of truth (the whole truth and nothing but) can’t be taken lightly—especially if you’re really serious about innovation.Blind to Blindness
Anne and I met Claire the first day we moved into our new apartment. Having lived in the building for nearly 20 years, she was a wealth of knowledge. Claire appeared to be in her mid-60s, so we were surprised when she told us she had just turned 78. She attributed her youthful appearance to her diet and the fact she walks her dogs several times a day—one dog at a time. When she found out we were animal lovers, she let us in on a little secret. “According to the building’s bylaws you’re only supposed to have up to two dogs… but I have three,” she whispered. Then she continued, “I know I’m breaking the rules, but my three guys don’t bother a soul and I take darn good care of them.” Claire was charming… and no doubt, her dogs were well cared for.
The next day I saw Claire walking one of her dogs. I smiled, waved and said good morning. To my surprise, she just stared at me. Her warm smile and friendly demeanor were missing. That evening, I shared my experience with Anne. “Maybe she was deep in thought?” That was possible but it didn’t seem likely. “Plus, she actually looked a bit angry,” I added. When Anne pointed out that I might be over analyzing the situation and that I can sometimes be a bit overly sensitive… I concluded she was probably right.
But her theory was quickly dispelled the following morning when Anne and I both saw Claire on one of her walks. We smiled, waved and said, “Good morning… it looks like it’s going to be beautiful today!” Claire not only didn’t respond… she actually looked irritated and turned away. We couldn’t believe it. “Did you say something yesterday that could have offended her?” Anne asked. I certainly couldn’t think of anything. A few days later a similar encounter took place… and then again a day after that. I was growing tired of going out of my way to be nice, only to be shunned. Read more
Sleep-Deprived Samaritan
In 1977 I was working part time at an auto body shop while attending college. Since I was paying for my education, I jumped at the chance to drive the shop tow truck (wrecker) and make some extra cash. My employer had arrangements with the county police to have an operator available 24/7. So after hours and on weekends, I was on call. Depending on the situation, towing services typically cost between $20 to $40 dollars—and I received half. Considering my circumstances, the money was significant.
That winter was unprecedented. The number of consecutive freezing days and snowfall set an Illinois record and resulted in 62 deaths and more than 2,000 injuries. I was kept very busy.
One morning the shop received so many calls about stranded motorists, abandoned vehicles and accidents, I decided to skip class and keep working. The local radio station and newspaper warned residents to stay inside unless it was an emergency. They said if you absolutely had to travel be certain to carry a first-aid kit, flashlight (extra batteries), blankets, waterproof matches, a sack of sand, a shovel, tool kit, tow rope, booster cables, compass… the list was as extreme as the weather. Since cellular phones weren’t around back then, you had to think before venturing out.
By the end of the day I was beat. I arrived home and started taking off my boots when the phone rang. It was the county police: “This situation has gone from bad to worse… get back out there and start towing in any and every vehicle in sight.” Apparently the number of stranded vehicles was making it impossible to plow—not to mention dangerous.
I grabbed a sandwich and went back to work… and continued working for nearly 40 consecutive hours. Before long I had pulled in enough vehicles to pay for an entire semester of school. Financially, the blizzard seemed like a blessing to me.
At some point, as my boss was writing reports on all the frozen vehicles that had filled the parking lot, it hit him… “How long has McMillan been working?”
“Wrecker Boy, Wrecker Boy, do you copy?”
That was my “handle.” The older shop guys gave it to me. They found it funny. I didn’t mind. Even if I had, it wouldn’t have mattered—the police called me “Wrecker Boy,” too.
“I read you… over,” I responded.
“What’s your twenty?”
The radio was breaking up. I tried adjusting the squelch control but to no avail. “I’m not certain… out in the country… some place west of town,” I replied. I had strategically pulled in the vehicles closest to the shop first, then slowly worked my way further and further into the country… off the beaten path.
“It’s time you bring that damn wrecker in and get some rest.”
He was more right than he knew. I was exhausted and in desperate need of rest. Read more