The flight took off on time and before long, we were preparing to land. Suddenly, the plane zigged, the storms zagged, adults screamed, and children cried. Our smooth sailing craft, at the hands of Mother Nature, had been transformed into a trackless roller coaster. People who had forgotten how to pray suddenly remembered.

The turbulence was so extreme the pilot bypassed Houston and landed in Austin where the plane was to be inspected for damage. My fellow travelers and I stood at the gate, mentally and physically disheveled, awaiting our fate. Some sent text messages, others called loved ones, and a few reached out to comfort one another. At times like this, it becomes apparent—we humans have far more in common than not. I called my wife, Anne, to see if she could find another flight into Houston. No luck.

Many passengers remained focused on the “problems” at hand. They provided each other with affirmations, complained to agents, and gathered evidence to support their beliefs. Within an hour, our flight had been rescheduled on another plane for later that evening… and then delayed once again for even later. My gut told me the third rescheduling was not going to be the charm.

“Has anyone checked on ground transportation?” I asked a group of passengers that were commiserating at the bar. “No, it’s too far to drive‚ about four hours. We’re just going to wait it out,” said one woman as she raised her glass to toast the decision. The others followed suit. As I thanked her, she wrinkled her nose in a peculiar way and said, “Find the tall woman in the white sweater; she’s thinking about renting a car.” I couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol talking, or if a suppressed memory had unexpectedly surfaced. In any case, it seemed surreal—like Alice’s encounter with the Cheshire Cat. I skeptically scanned the crowd and to my amazement, found my version of “The White Rabbit” standing less than 20 feet away, talking to some fellow passengers. This trip was becoming “curiouser and curiouser!” Perhaps I was in Wonderland?

“Are you the tall woman in the white sweater that’s considering driving to Houston tonight?” Relieved that she didn’t break out into a chorus of, “I’m late, I’m late for a very important date!” I introduced myself and explained my situation. After a brief moment of contemplation, she answered, “Why not, yes, let’s do it!” Gigi Woodruff, a YMCA executive, rented a car and selflessly agreed to go out of her way to deliver a nurse, a sales manager and me to our respective destinations near her hometown.

Two hours into our journey, Anne called to inform us that our flight to Houston had been canceled until morning… which is when I had to deliver my keynote on “Turning Problems Into Solutions.” Thanks to Gigi, the Good Samaritan in the white sweater, that’s exactly what happened!

I checked into the hotel and called Debbie Norman, the event manager. Even though it was late, Debbie did a convincing job of sounding awake and positive… “Great, Michael, I’m so glad you made it… I’ll meet you in the lobby at 9 AM.” No doubt, she had alternative plans in place if I hadn’t. Professional event managers are masters at turning problems into solutions.

Life is a journey—and when our plans don’t align with reality (as they often don’t), we can either see it as a problem, or an opportunity. The choice is ours. When we remain open-minded and focus on possibilities, we can turn “perceived” problems into “real” solutions. No doubt, my trip to Houston tested this axiom… and I’m pleased to say, it passed with flying colors.

Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence. The following morning, Dr. Carla O’Dell introduced me and then shared the events leading up to my arrival. In doing so, she reinforced that the theme of my speech was more than an extraordinary claim. The audience was wonderful and my message seemed to resonate with them on many levels. Gigi was able to attend the event, too. At the end of my speech I introduced her… and she received a standing ovation.

It’s true: The world we focus on is the world we create. Thank you Anne, Carla, Debbie, and Gigi for “Turning Problems Into Solutions” and making this world a better place in the process.

Since Anne was able to join me, we decided to stay an extra day and explore our nation’s capital. We walked a good ten miles, taking in the many sites DC has to offer. At some point we found ourselves climbing the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. And then, unintentionally, we both stopped short of reaching the massive marble statue and bowed our heads… eighteen steps short to be exact. With heads bowed, we read the inscription engraved in the step, “I HAVE A DREAM. Martin Luther King, Jr., The March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, August 28, 1963.” My mind raced and I became overwhelmed with emotions. Without thinking about it, we found ourselves standing on the very step from which Dr. King delivered his historic speech.

After a moment… I honestly don’t know how long we stood there… we eventually made our way up the remaining steps and listened to the National Park Ranger’s presentation. While his presentation was informative and the monument was inspiring, I couldn’t stop thinking about Dr. King. I returned to the step and stood directly on it. Looking out over the National Mall, I closed my eyes and traveled back to 1963. I was five years old when Dr. King shared his dream, but I remember it vividly… watching it on a black and white TV screen, hearing it repeated on the radio, listening to adults and kids discuss it as I tried to reconcile his words, their words, and my thoughts about the turbulent times. Dr. King was then… and remains… one of my heroes.

I opened my eyes briefly to take in the entire scene before closing them again and trying to remember the words spoken here some 48 years ago. He conveyed so much in such a profoundly eloquent and compelling way. But it was the end of his speech—the part where Dr. King departed from his prepared notes and improvised—when his vision became known to the world. Apparently, Mahalia Jackson, an African-American gospel singer, prompted him by shouting, “Tell them about the dream, Martin!” And tell us he did.

When we returned to our hotel that evening, I looked up the “I Have a Dream” transcript and read the words several times. Then something profound struck me. In this iconic speech, this brilliant man masterfully referenced numerous biblical allusions, Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address, the Emancipation Proclamation, the Declaration of Independence, Shakespeare’s “Richard III,” an old Negro spiritual, and so much more… all in seventeen minutes! What more can be said?

Easter Island is the most isolated habitable piece of land in the world. It lies in the Pacific Ocean more than 2,000 miles west of South America. According to scientists, when its inhabitants first arrived around 400 AD, they must have thought they landed in paradise. The mild climate, fertile soil, rich vegetation and forests would have provided all the resources needed to build homes, canoes (for fishing), fuel for fire, making rope, weapons, thatching, and so on. Over time these islanders developed a complex social structure, centralized government and religious practices… and at some point, they began creating statues.

But by the time Dutch explorer Jacob Roggeveen discovered the island in 1722 on Easter day (hence its name), it was far from a paradise. There wasn’t a tree or bush standing higher than ten feet tall. The native animals had vanished and the islanders were raising chickens to survive. According to Roggeveen and others who followed him, these famished natives certainly weren’t capable of producing and moving such massive statues. So what happened on Easter Island? There are many theories. Not only about why and how these statues were made… but what happened to the islanders who made them… and what happened to their paradise?

According to Jared Diamond (Professor of Geography and Physiology at UCLA), “…they began erecting stone statues on platforms, like the ones their Polynesian forebears had carved. With passing years, the statues and platforms became larger and larger, and the statues began sporting ten-ton red crowns—probably in an escalating spiral of one-upmanship, as rival clans tried to surpass each other with shows of wealth and power.”

“In just a few centuries, the people of Easter Island wiped out their forest, drove their plants and animals to extinction, and saw their complex society spiral into chaos and cannibalism.”

Read Diamond’s Article: http://www.hartford-hwp.com/archives/24/042.html

While some question Diamond’s hypothesis, few dismiss it. Whether he is 100% right isn’t the point. The point is that his hypothesis has merit… it provides insight and serves as a warning. When we destroy ecosystems and deplete natural resources, we endanger our lives and the lives of future generations.

Things rarely happen overnight. There are turning and tipping points along the way. There are always those in society who support the status quo and those who challenge it. No doubt some islanders downplayed the situation and embraced the unsustainable norm. I can imagine them chanting “Cut, Baby, Cut” and mocking those who were concerned over the destruction, while dismissing those brave heroic souls who were searching for alternative solutions.

What if the situation had been acknowledged? What if this society had embraced creativity and innovation? What if rather than doing the same thing over and over… they had tried something new? What if the natural resources had been protected? What if they had conserved resources and worked together toward finding healthy sustainable solutions? What if these people had embraced change? What if they recognized they were part of the ecosystem… not superior to it? Countless questions like these fill my head and I realize they not only apply to Easter Islanders… but to you and me and our world today.

As barrels of oil shoot into the Gulf of Mexico and destroy our environment, some Americans are still chanting, “Drill, Baby, Drill” and mocking those who object to offshore drilling. Many of those supporting this chant fear change and consider innovation and alternative thinking a threat. To me these people are similar to the islanders who were more focused on statues than progress or survival. Instead of using their creative capacity to find sustainable solutions for the greater good, they blindly kowtowed to the power that be. In the case of the islanders, it was the chiefs, bureaucrats and priests. In the case of these Americans, it’s politicians, special interest groups, and big business.

What Erich von Däniken overlooked is man’s ability to create and innovate. This ability should never be dismissed. Creativity is our most powerful asset. Without this capacity we wouldn’t have survived… let alone progressed to where we are today. We don’t need visiting aliens’ “Chariots of the Gods” to teach and guide us… we already have the most powerful force in the universe—creativity. The question is: How will we use it? We can continue destroying our planet by building bigger and bigger statues… or we can work together and create positive change. The choice is ours… where do you stand?

“HOW CAN PEOPLE WALK BY A DYING PERSON AND NOT HELP?” outraged citizens ask in utter disbelief. “WHAT’S THE WORLD COMING TO?” dismayed talking TV heads ask… acting as if this were something new.

According to social psychologists, Mr. Tale-Yax was the victim of a psychological phenomenon called “the bystander effect.” I first learned about this in a college sociology class. Back then it was called the “Genovese syndrome” named after the infamous 1964 rape and murder of Kitty Genovese in Queens. Dozens of people witnessed her attack and heard her screams but did nothing to stop it… let alone report it.

It seems the greater the number of bystanders, the less likely it is that any one of them will help a person in need. Research shows that individual bystanders monitor fellow bystanders to try and determine if it’s necessary to intervene. When no one takes action, they all conclude their help isn’t needed. Some individuals assume that another bystander will intervene… and as a result, no one intervenes. Many individuals assume that another bystander is more qualified, so they don’t bother getting involved. Certain bystanders are concerned about “losing face” in the eyes of the others… while some fear legal consequences should they offer their assistance.

For whatever the reasons, I still find myself asking, “Whatever happened to being a Good Samaritan?” For those unfamiliar, “The Good Samaritan” is a parable Jesus shared with his disciples. In this parable, a Jewish traveler is beaten, robbed, and left for dead on the roadside. First a priest passes by and then a Levite… neither stops to help. Finally, a Samaritan comes to his rescue. What’s significant about this parable is not only that the Samaritan stopped to help, but that Samaritans and Jews despised each other.

While the bystander effect is evident during life-threatening emergencies, it can be seen on a regular daily basis, too. Think about your workplace, the organizations you belong to and your social circles. Do you buy into peer pressure or stand up for what’s right? Many people believe it’s best to not cause waves… to just go along with the crowd. They prefer to follow the status quo regardless of how it affects others—especially those outside the group. Unfortunately, it’s this kind of thinking that leads to tragic, dangerous and destructive results. Just reflect on history for a moment… you don’t need to look far.

So, whatever happened to being a Good Samaritan? Nothing. Good Samaritans are still around today… there’s just not many of them. I doubt there ever was. Why? Because Good Samaritans think independently, act responsibly and stand up for what’s right, regardless of the consequences or how they’re judged by society. They aren’t afraid to ruffle a few feathers or go against the grain—especially when someone’s in need. Mostly, Good Samaritans listen to their hearts, they put themselves in others’ shoes, and then courageously take action. Ask yourself this question: “Am I a ‘Good Samaritan’ or a bystander?” Like Mr. Tale-Yax, your actions will reveal the answer. He was a Good Samaritan… unfortunately he was the only one in the crowd that day.

Please share your thoughts on this subject… or any Good Samaritan examples.

Perhaps the stars were aligned just so that week, but of the three consultancies invited to present, the first two started their presentations the exact same way… by challenging us with a nine-dot puzzle. Solving it required connecting each dot using four straight, continuous lines—without lifting the pen from the paper.

The first consultant seemed taken aback by our questions and passion toward solving it. Apparently he had come in expecting to present the puzzle, answer a few predictable questions, watch us make some failed attempts, and then give us the answer. Until that day, he had only presented to business executives who had little interest in solving visual puzzles—not graphic designers.

By using a very wide marker, all nine dots could be connected with only one line.

When I asked him if we could use one line rather than four, he just smiled. “If you can solve the puzzle using only one line, by all means, be my guest. Just make certain it’s a straight line… and don’t lift your pen.” Before I could respond, he added, “If you solve it with four lines, lunch is on me… solve it with one line and I’ll make certain you get a raise… and bonus, too,” then winked at the president of our firm.

When I explained that my solution required a very wide pen, he began shaking his head and then with a dismissive laugh said, “No… I’m afraid that would be cheating… you have to use a standard size pen.” Then he held his marker up for everyone to see before asking again, “Okay, are you ready for the answer?”

When we shook our heads, he seemed concerned. His concerns grew when a senior designer stood and presented another solution. Having folded his puzzle like an accordion, he carefully angled his marker and hit all nine dots in one pass.

Shaking his head once again the consultant announced, “I’m afraid you can’t fold the paper either… you must use four continuous straight lines without lifting the pen from the paper… and it must stay flat… no folding is allowed.”

Folding the paper didn't exactly solve the problem but it was an interesting direction.

By repositioning the dot, the puzzle could be solved in a number of ways.

As I stopped folding my paper to consider the newly established rules, the designer sitting behind me shared another solution. By carefully cutting out each dot and repositioning them on the paper, she not only solved the puzzle, but also did so without violating the established rules. Her solution also confirmed my suspicions… I really had smelled rubber cement.

Before she could expound on the merits of her solution… or before someone else could share another solution, the frazzled consultant grabbed his marker, drew four quick lines on the easel and announced, “To find the solution, you must… THINK OUTSIDE THE BOX!”

This is "the" answer the consultant expected.

You might imagine how the second presentation went over. What still eludes me is the number of business people back then that accepted this puzzle as some form of empirical evidence. What’s more preposterous: accepting that an executive with poor puzzle solving abilities can’t solve business problems… or that a consultant who solves the very puzzle he just presented, can? Maybe it’s a toss-up.

What I also found interesting was the similarities between the first two consultants. Each presented the puzzle as THE litmus test for business innovation… yet, ironically, both assumed that only one answer existed. Why couldn’t they let us explore more ideas or discuss the answers we proposed? Because they were really outside the box! Besides, if another solution existed, their presentation “theme” wouldn’t have worked. By trying to expose our imaginary boundaries, they were actually exposing their own.

It’s funny… they wanted to be perceived as innovators—cutting-edge problem solvers—but the more they repeated the phrase, “Think Outside the Box,” the clearer it became… they were anything but. I’ve often wondered how long it would have taken us to find this solution… more importantly, what other solutions and potential directions would we have discovered along the way?

Most people have seen The Wizard of Oz—at least once. It’s been playing since 1939. If you haven’t, you should consider doing so. For those who have seen it, reflect back to the scene where Dorothy, her little dog Toto, the Scarecrow, Cowardly Lion and the Tin Man are all standing before the great and powerful Wizard of Oz. As he blows fire and warns them not to incur his wrath, Toto casually walks over and pulls back a curtain to reveal that the intimidating Wizard of Oz is no more than a little man projecting a big image onto a screen, pushing buttons and yelling into a microphone.

Hoping he hadn’t been seen, the wizard quickly pulls the curtain closed and announces into the microphone, “Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.” But it’s too late. The truth had been exposed.

Over the years, I have met other people (experts) professing to have “the” answer, too. These modern day wizards often hide behind titles, organizations and use fancy argot to appear knowledgeable. But like Toto, it’s important to look past illusion (and clichés), pull back the curtain, and deal with reality. This is paramount to finding “real” solutions.

Eighth grade wasn’t the first time I had been kicked out of class… nor would it be my last. While many of my trips to the principal’s office were well deserved, this one (in my opinion) wasn’t. That said, I’m glad it happened. Like many things in life, it was a blessing in disguise.

It started when we were asked to pick a student from the class ahead of us that we admired. Someone we considered to be a positive role model that we could emulate… a mentor of sorts.

I didn’t know at the time, but the word “Mentor” comes from Greek mythology. When Odysseus left for the Trojan War, he put his friend Mentor in charge of his palace and his son, Telemachus. These days “mentor” typically refers to a trusted counselor or teacher… an experienced person who provides guidance.

Back to the assignment… my classmates had little trouble picking a mentor. Most chose the likely suspects… popular kids, cheerleaders, athletes, members of student council, and so on.

Before long, everyone but me had made their decision. Unable to think of a single person I wanted to emulate, I raised my hand. “What happens if you can’t think of a mentor?” My simple question created quite a stir.

“Mr. McMillan, I’m certain if you try… and think… you can come up with one,” my teacher responded.

The following day, as my classmates worked on the project, my teacher approached my desk and asked, “Who’s your mentor?”

“I don’t have one yet.”

“Do you think this is a joke?”

“No.”

“Then pick a mentor right now and get to work.”

“Isn’t everyone a mentor?” I asked.

“Don’t push your luck… if you don’t do the assignment, you’ll receive an F!”

On day three, as my peers outlined how they were going to emulate their mentors, I was still thinking about who mine might be.

“Mr. McMillan… who’s your mentor? And don’t tell me you’re still thinking.”

“Pat Holden,” I announced.

With this answer, the class broke into hysterical laughter and my teacher walked over, pulled me from my desk, and marched me to the principal’s office. On the way there, I tried to explain my choice but couldn’t get a word in edgewise. You see, Pat wasn’t a popular kid. In fact, he was a special needs student and many people made fun of him. I wasn’t one of those people.

After my teacher explained the situation to the principal, he made it clear that I was not welcome back in his classroom. After he left, the principal asked me about my choice.

“I picked Pat because he is always nice to people—everyone—even to those that make fun of him. In spite of his challenges, he always does his best and never gives up.”

Since the principal remained silent, I continued, “And it’s not because I didn’t try or think… I did both and that’s when I realized that everyone is a mentor. I’ve learned as much from people I don’t want to emulate as those I do… I see every person as a mentor. But I also knew I needed to pick one person for the assignment. So rather than picking an obvious person, I picked Pat… and I don’t regret it. If more people were like him in this school… no, this world would be a better place. Pat is a great mentor… he sets examples for everyone to emulate.”

My principal didn’t know what to say. I’m certain he had planned to punish me until he realized my sincerity and heard my side of the story. To his credit, he listened and reflected on my words… and because he did, he had a dilemma. The semester was nearly over and he couldn’t send me back to class. Nor did he want me sitting in his office every day. He left for several minutes and then returned with his solution, “Michael, you’re going to finish the semester in the library… with Miss Martin.”

Miss Martin was an elderly woman who never married. In her younger days, she had taught elementary classes but as she neared retirement, she became our school librarian. As a kid, I thought she looked mean in her cat-eye glasses and slight mustache. In addition, she was very quiet and made little eye contact… put all these things together and it seemed somewhat scary. To the best of my recollection, nobody really knew what to make of her. She wasn’t popular. Nor was she controversial… she was just an elderly librarian waiting to retire. In fact, outside of a library-related question, I don’t recall seeing anyone ever talk to her.

On my first day with Miss Martin, I sat in the back of the library near the window and sketched in a notebook that someone had left behind. Other than saying hello to each other, we didn’t speak a word.

The second day, I slept.

The third day, I was staring out the window when I suddenly realized Miss Martin was standing next to me. As I broke from my spell, she said in a quiet voice, “Excuse me, Michael… how are you today?”

“Fine, thank you.”

She smiled a sincere smile and made direct eye contact. Then she continued in an almost shy manner, “Since you have another hour here and you’re surrounded by all these books, would you like to read something?”

“Um… I guess,” I answered, not knowing what else to say.

“Well, what topics interest you?”

“I’m not really sure… actually I’m interested in a lot of things.”

And so it began. Before long she was showing me around the library, sharing some of her favorite sections, books… and personal stories. The sting of being kicked out of class had disappeared… it had been replaced by something better. Far from a punishment, I actually looked forward to going to the library and spending time with Miss Martin.

She wasn’t mean, ugly or scary at all—in fact, she was beautiful. Mostly she confirmed what I already knew… everyone is a mentor. She and Pat just happened to be great ones. I can’t say for certain, but I believe Odysseus would agree. In the end… right, wrong or indifferent… we are all mentors and mentees.

As we worked together, one thing became clear to me—what the Blue Angels consider “normal” teamwork is probably outside most people’s scope. To say it’s above average seems understated; better put, it’s abnormal… well outside the teamwork bell curve. The challenge: How do you convey this “abnormal” level of teamwork in a book?

My idea… Sigmund Freud believed by studying the abnormal, we could gain a better understanding of the normal. That’s how I approached The Power of Teamwork… perhaps by studying the Blue Angels’ model of teamwork, we could gain a better understanding of “normal” teamwork as it relates to our own lives.

One evening, about a week before the manuscript was to be sent to the publisher, I cleared my head and planned to re-read it from start to finish. In less than 25 pages, my brain started racing and I felt my heart sinking into my stomach… then I stopped reading.

Somehow, quite unintentionally, Scott and I had managed to transform our groundbreaking Blue Angels content into what sounded like the same old teamwork rhetoric. You know… the stuff we’ve all heard before… (think high school sports). How could this have happened? It didn’t make sense. We had been so focused on creating fresh, new, original content.

One thing was for certain… neither of us was interested in creating another recycled book on teamwork. Before I could finish dialing Scott’s number to inform him of my observation, another thought struck me. I hung up the phone and reflected on the day we met. What had impressed me about Scott during our first meeting was his demeanor. His words were direct, straightforward and honest… too often a rarity in today’s world. Suddenly it all started making sense.

Working with Scott affirmed what I’ve always known—the dictionary doesn’t define words—people do. Words are symbols. We each create the meaning they carry. Words mean different things to different people at different times and places. Words vary in degree, too. Some people have great credibility—others have very little. This point is critically important. People can use the exact same words—yet they can mean something totally different… that’s what was happening in our book. Words like trust, respect, integrity and accountability are value words… and we each give them their value. The weight these words carry for the Blue Angels is difficult for most of us to grasp.

Take the word trust, for instance. Trusting someone on your team to deliver a package on time, score a goal, or deliver a sales pitch, all represent a certain level of trust. Trusting someone to fly directly at you, and pass within inches of your aircraft at a combined speed of 1,000 miles per hour, represents yet another degree of trust. Imagine the trust a Blue Angels pilot must have for his fellow teammates… the mechanic who works on his plane… the techs who inspect his gauges… literally, everyone on the team. This degree of “trust” takes the word to a different level… to an abnormal degree.

It’s easy to spell and pronounce a word the same as someone else… but creating its meaning is another thing all together. I learned many things working on this book. I learned the same word can vary greatly in its meanings… and it’s our actions that define them.

I also learned… performance teams and healthy relationships share a common bond… their definitions align. Think about the team(s) you’re on… with your peers at work, in your relationships, and with your spouse and family. Do your definitions align? How do you define trust? In the end, we each define our words… what meaning do your words carry?

Buddha’s words seem more pertinent than ever today. Maybe time is the truest test of wisdom?

Back in high school, a friend of mine from a neighboring town was arrested for smoking pot. The following day I nervously stopped by his house, uncertain of what to expect. His mom, whom I knew well and respected greatly, answered the door. She was clearly (and understandably) shaken up by the event. At some point, my buddy, his mom and I ended up at the kitchen table talking about what happened… and more importantly, what my buddy’s future held.

I will never forget that discussion, mostly because of the way his mom reacted to the problem at hand. She seemed less concerned about him getting caught, or even smoking pot—than the fact it wasn’t his idea to smoke it. Unlike most parents who would have been screaming about the dangers of drugs, how marijuana was an illegal gateway drug, how this would hurt the family’s reputation, and so on… she mentioned none of these things. At first I thought I must be missing her point. But as the conversation continued, she made it perfectly clear—I wasn’t.

To her way of thinking, not being a leader was bad… but not thinking the situation through and caving in to peer pressure… that was unacceptable. In fact, she considered these issues a bigger crime than the one he had been caught committing. She said, “Sheep follow blindly… individuals think and then take appropriate action, regardless of what others say or believe!” She explained that not thinking independently and taking personal responsibility was a serious character flaw. And when people don’t think for themselves, it becomes dangerous—not only for them but for those around them. Her insight and wisdom that day had a great impact on me—and her son, too. She made his problem a learning experience.

Today when I see adults blindly follow rhetoric or chanting group-speak, I see more than sheep—I see danger. As an American, I defend everyone’s freedom of speech and expression—especially those with whom I vehemently disagree. As an individual, I cherish the freedom and power of independent thought. As a truth seeker, I listen to many points of view and then spend time in personal contemplation.

Whether it’s politics, religion, business, healthcare reform, corporate bailouts, drugs… or anything else… when we blindly go along with the crowd, we lose our true independence and freedom. Without taking personal responsibility and seeking the truth, we are no different than my buddy was back in high school. Actually, we’re much worse… we’re old enough to know better.