"Honey, Please Don't" Part Two

As I mentioned in Tuesday’s blog, I am missing the “Handy gene,” that mythical gene many men have that give them the ability to assemble, fix, and repair stuff.  It is nowhere to be found in my body.  I am explaining this, because this inability to have any talent whatsoever in these areas transitioned from my childhood into my later life as well. No matter how many DIY or HGTV shows I watch showing how easy something is to do, I am clueless.  I can’t read directions as they don’t make sense; I use dyslexia as my excuse and I am sticking to it.  For me, the only way to put something together is by trial and error.  For me it ends up being mostly errors and takes me five times as long to do something as it describes in the directions.  While it looks easy to assemble to most every other competent person, to me, not so much.

To aid in this deficiency, I believe I own most every tool imaginable.  Why? Because each time I think “this time will be different.”  I will easily complete the task at hand.  I am a college graduate, there are people that didn’t graduate from high school that can do it, so for me it should be easy.  The difference between the guys that didn’t finish high school and myself is they have ability. It turns out an education has nothing to do with it.  It’s that gene I spoke about earlier in Part 1 on Tuesday.

Forgetting I am lacking the gene, I will go ahead and attempt this idiot proof task.  First, as Bob Vila always says, “You always have to have the right tool.” Off to the big box store so I can buy the required tool. Now I am sure I can do whatever is needed to be done, as I have the tool.   I excel in always proving myself wrong. At least now when I can get a friend or hire someone to fix what I can’t, they will have the required tool to complete the job.  Sound familiar?

Once while attempting to hang a shelf in our laundry room for my wife, I put 8 holes in the wall looking for a stud to hang the shelf.  After I filled all the holes with spackle, spackle has become  my best friend.  My wife then hung a chalk board to cover the mess and the shelf never made it to the wall. 

In another “Tool belt opportunity,” my wife asked me to fix the stopper on the drain plug in her sink in our bathroom.  After putting the broken piece in my car to remind me to get a replacement, I finally decided it was time to actually fix it.  Those of you that read my previous blogs know what I am about to say, it fell in the “Black Hole” twice so I forgot about it for awhile.  But she didn’t as was constantly reminding me it needed to be fixed for two months, obviously her sense of urgency was apparently much different than mine. Finally, because I couldn’t listen to it anymore, I went to the big box store and purchased the required $2.00 replacement.  

The small box consisted of 5 different pieces and an even smaller piece of paper that includes the directions that were obviously written by someone that their native language is not English.  Admittedly, I have a difficult time with directions which do not include a clearly labeled picture, with letters for each piece, picture of how it is to be assembled showing exactly what to do.  What is confusing is they don’t put those same letters on each little piece. I also love when they use the names of the pieces, like I know what each one is called in the first place. I had no idea how many different combinations of 5 different pieces could be assembled incorrectly. I soon found out.

My wife, trying not to laugh and challenge my masculinity, went into the kitchen and quietly called a handy neighbor to “come over unexpectedly” as I was destroying her sink.  Glad to see him, I told him what I was doing. It took him less than 3 minutes to assemble it and put it on correctly.  I thanked him profusely and as he left the house, I caught him winking to my wife.  It was then I realized I was set up, again.  I always wondered how he knew when to come over at the right time.  Now I know.

So to those of you that can identify with me and the lack of any ability to fix, assemble, repair anything that requires the use of a tool.  Stop. Don’t do it.  You may think you can, but then remember all the other attempts you failed.  It’s ok, we are better at other things in life.  I will bet those other guys with the gene are probably not very good with Microsoft’s Excel or PowerPoint.  And you know they aren’t writing a blog.  I am sure they aren’t better lovers. 

Big deal, if we don’t know how to fix our car, or assemble the new bookcase your wife brought home.  We’re better at watching the ball game and drinking a beer while someone else has the confusion of trying to figure out how to put Part D into Part G while holding Part C.  Who cares, right?  If we had the gene, none of this would be an issue. 

If you married a woman that has the gene, you are a lucky man.  For those of you single guys  without the gene, if you find a woman with the gene....marry her!   

Now you know why I get “Honey, Please don’t.”  I am OK with it, if you are honest with yourself and you know who you are too, just call someone with the gene.  Some of you won’t call.  You are delaying the inevitable.  Those who haven’t figured this out yet, deal with it,  join us who know it as a fact of life. 

Unless you want to continue to listen to her bitch and moan that you still haven’t fixed whatever she wants repaired or assembled.  Give in, it won't be the first time, and  have someone come over and repair it.  Yes, she will find something else to harp on, but at least it will be something different to procrastinate about. 

To those of you that will continue to embarrass yourself, stop trying to kid yourself as you can't change it, it's not your fault you were passed by when they passed out the "Handy Gene."  Save yourself some time and nagging, please give the task to a professional.  Crack open your cob-webbed wallet and pay for it to be done correctly. It will help the economy as you will give someone with the gene and talent a job.

Please return next Tuesday for Notes by Blue for another escapade of laughing at life for what it really is or isn’t.  Maybe by then the idiots we elected to the House and Senate will have finally agreed upon a budget so we can go on with our lives. 

Please add me to your twitter: @slblue or “Follow me with Google Friend Connect” on the tab on the right of this blog.  Add a comment in the section below or send me an email at steveblue22@gmail.com  I would love to hear from you.

"Honey, Please Don't" Part One

I have absolutely no mechanical or electrical ability at all.  There, I admitted it.  When there are things around the house require repair, we need to call a competent friend, hire someone to fix it, or just buy a new one.  Instead of getting a list of “Honey Do’s” I get a list of “Honey, …….Please Don’t.” I have broken too many things throughout the years not to come to this conclusion.  Taking this approach we will save time, aggravation, and money. 

 

There is a male myth: we can fix anything.  Many males in families have the “Handy” gene that will give them the ability to repair or assemble stuff.  Many women possess this gene, but I can only speak about my gender as this is all I know firsthand. My grandfather had this gene but unfortunately, he did not pass this gene onto my Dad or me.  My father also, couldn’t fix anything. As a child I wasn’t taught how things work because he didn’t know as well.  We thought everything was magic.

When I was a toddler my grandfather built a rocking horse from scratch.  It was so well built   my younger brother and sister played on it as it lasted over 20 years before it went to the great pasture in the sky. It may have been missing a wooden tail by the time my siblings had a chance to play on it because someone attempted to fix it with a hammer when he was small boy and knocked the tail off, but I was just a child when I did that fix-up job.

My grandfather had the ability to look at something and figure out what needed to be done.  He always had the correct tool, although most lacked electricity, and could use any tool effectively to adjust, repair or just tinker with anything he touched.  Rumor has it, his tinkering was used to get away from my grandmother for awhile, but that’s another story for another time.  

As a child I proved I had no electrical ability.  One day I wondered what would happen if you took two wires, without a plug, and stick them into an electrical outlet.  Found out this also wasn’t a good idea.  It turns out, by doing this, it will short out the circuits in the house and all the lights and appliances flickered and it made a very loud noise. It scared me to death. 

Then my dad, who was home at the time – lucky me, came into my bedroom and asked me what I had done. After trying to look like I didn’t do anything, I explained. He laughed and I am sure he knew at that moment I was just like him.  Fortunately, I didn’t short out the entire house and burn it down.  Without the “Handy” gene, I was such an idiot.

When I was 13 I vowed I would never own a lawn mower.  Growing up in the Midwest, I understood lawns grew in dark black dirt. When we moved South, I was surprised anything could grow in the bright red clay now in my front yard.  It was a new house so the landscapers spread seed and covered it with straw.  I was amazed that in about 3 weeks I not only had a lawn, but it had grown to the height of my knees.

It was then I realized I had to give in and purchase a lawn mower. Reluctantly I drove to Sears and bought a demo floor unit with a hard plastic grass catcher.  When I got it home, I started it up and began to cut the first row of grass.  As I completed one pass I realized that the grass catcher was already full.  I turned it off, as the directions instructed, and then I attempted to remove the stupid grass catcher and empty it.  For ten minutes I tried everything, and couldn’t get it off.  After calling it many creative names, and considering kicking it, I found the names I used didn’t help either.  It was on there to stay.  As I stood there wondering what to do my new neighbor walked over to me clapping his hands to see what I was doing, because I was finally mowing my lawn as my lawn was an eye sore to the neighborhood..  I love a smart ass when I am pissed at a machine.

As he approached I stood dumbfounded and he asked me what was wrong.  I told him, “It’s is going to be expensive to mow my lawn.”  He asked, “Why?”  I replied, “The way I see it, I mow one row and I have to buy a another new lawn mower because I can’t get the damn catcher off.”   After laughing, we played with it for another 15 minutes and finally figured it out. I think he had the “Handy” gene so I thanked him for saving me money so I didn’t need to buy the additional lawn mowers.

About 3 months later I was mowing again and all of a sudden, the mower made a crunching noise and stopped.  I tried restarting the machine, but it was having no part of it.  It was dead.  I started unscrewing things, because that’s you were supposed to do in a situation like this and I wanted to appear I knew what I was doing. 

After all, we figured out how to get the grass catcher off.  When I opened the oil compartment I found it was empty.  So I poured some in and still nothing.  I just figured out that gas engines need gasoline and oil.  Not knowing what to do at that point, I brought it back to Sears and they checked to see if it had oil and it did.  They kindly replaced it with a new mower. I remembered why at 13 I vowed never to own a lawnmower.  I was right, I have no mechanical ability at all, now I confirmed it to myself and others.

I know I can’t be the only guy lacking this gene.  Please write me and tell me how you confirmed you lacked the “Handy” gene at steveblue22@gmail.com. 

These are just a couple examples of my obvious lack of talent in these areas. On Thursday I will explain further.  See you on Thursday for the conclusion of “Honey, …….Please don’t”

Please add me to your twitter: @slblue and “Follow me with Google Friend Connect” on the tab on the right of this blog. Have a comment? Click "comments" in the section below or send me an email. Steveblue22@gmail.com I would love to hear from you.

Things to do in an Elevator, Part Two

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Elevators have always been an opportunity to have fun with strangers. Sometimes you can meet very interesting people that develop into a friendship. There are formal opportunities, as many salespeople use this time in an elevator as a chance to pitch their company, product or service.  They develop what is known as an “Elevator Speech,” which is a short synopsis of what they are selling and can be explained during the course of an elevator ride.

What I like to do is usually more spontaneous and many times unrehearsed.  As we all have experienced, most people become mute on an elevator. Others, on the other hand, feel as long as they have a captive audience, let’s have a good time.

Riding elevators is an interesting way to meet people with a little creativity and craziness thrown in. Here are a few more ways to pull off elevator pranks.  Thank you for all those that shared what they had done.  I have included those which I had not already known or used.  Thank you again from whose shared their experiences but were already included in the blog.

While in high school, I saw this once on the old Candid Camera show.  It was a big hit and still fun to try. When you are in the first group to get into the elevator, this works best with a friend, go to back corners and face to the back of the elevator.  You will be surprised how many people will enter the elevator and will face the back and not face the front along with you.  This is especially works especially well on elevators with a front and back door.  Everyone will think it opens in the back and it then they won’t.  The hard part is not laughing and giving it away.

Another variation of this is to step into a packed elevator and stay facing the crowd without saying anything.  Don’t look up at the numbers, just quietly look around at the people and continue facing them until the door opens again.  Watch their uncomfortable reactions of you staring at all of them.  Thank you to my nephew Josh from Hong Kong.

It’s always fun to act like an old time elevator operator and as each door opens, describe what is on the floor.  An example is as the door opens yell out, “Women’s lingerie, children’s clothing and appliances”.  It usually always gets a laugh or smile.

One that would always get a laugh is as the door opens and you step into a fully packed elevator, face the group and say, “I am sure you are wondering why I called you all here today.”  Thank you again to my old grammar school friend, Marsha from Illinois.

An uninhibited woman can usually pull this next one off, more than a guy.  You don’t have to be a “10” to do this, actually any number will do.  You just have to somewhat of an exhibitionist to enjoy watching people watch you, get embarrassed or joy, while staring at you.

 

Walk into the elevator wearing a skimpy thonged workout outfit under your business clothes, while carrying a professional looking briefcase.  Be sure to wear eyeglasses, even if they are fake, to look more serious.  If you have long hair, pin it up and try to look as “business like” as you can. This should only be done while there are a few men and women in the elevator.

When you get on the elevator and the door closes, always stand at the front of the elevator, without saying a word and ignoring anyone that may speak to you.  Slowly begin taking off your clothes while putting them into your empty briefcase. Take your glasses off and then let your hair down so you can shake it. Get off at the next floor after you have changed clothing.  This will give them something to talk about the rest of the way down or up.

Finally, when you are the last person in a packed elevator, get in and face the crowd.  As the elevator begins to rise, announce that “you are very sorry but you are claustrophobic and if you pass out the only way to save you is to have someone give you mouth to mouth recessitation.”  Then find your favorite woman/man in the crowd and ask if they wouldn’t mind being the “chosen one if it necessitates.  At the end of the ride, thank everyone for their help with your claustrophobia. Most times the one you chose will come up and talk to you.  You now have met someone new and you can let them in on the hoax to see if they have a sense of humor.

I hope you have enjoyed the last two blogs.  We live in a world in which most people don’t speak to each other.  Many don’t know their own neighbors where they live.  We have been programmed not to talk to strangers.  Why? You never know who you might meet.  I am sure you never meet, if you don’t try.  If nothing else, leave an impression as to who you are.  It will also give them something to talk about for the rest of the day.

As you read in part one of this blog on Tuesday, you will remember the gag with my old girlfriend.  I am sure that the people that were in the elevator that fateful day are still talking about what we did.  If any of you were in the elevator with us that funny day, you now  know it was all set up.  Hope you had a good discussion the rest of the ride.

Are you another person in our impersonal world? Or are you adventurous? It’s what usually differentiates us here in the South compared to elsewhere in our country. We say “Hi or Hey” to just about everyone we pass on the street or hallway. We aren’t necessarily going to rob or rape you, we are just being friendly. Nothing more, nothing less. Eventually, if you greet people enough times, you will start a conversation and get to know that stranger.  They then stop being a stranger.

I personally prefer to be the person that made you laugh or gets you to talk to others after exiting the elevator.  Make an attempt to make a stranger laugh today, you may be surprised who you will meet.

See you next Tuesday.  Keep laughing and thinking, it will keep you young and happy.

Please add me to your twitter: @slblue and “Follow me with Google Friend Connect” on the tab on the right of this blog. Have a comment? Click "comments" in the section below or send me an email, stevblue22@gmail.com  I would love to hear from you.

Things to do in an Elevator, Part One

Things to do in an elevator. I don’t know about you, but I find riding in an elevator boring, so I found ways to have a more interesting experience. By now you know I am not shy. Speaking to people I don’t know is easy, as who cares, I will probably never see them again anyway. Why not have a little fun? Riding in an elevator watching each light illuminate as we pass each floor actually makes the ride seem longer. It’s similar to watching water boil. To distract myself from this boring ritual I have found ways to make it more interesting. Most are stunts I have actually done, some I thought would be funny to do.

First, let’s set the stage and come to a few realizations about elevators. People will usually stop talking once they enter the “Elevator Zone.” Even if they know someone else in the elevator, the required “Hi” is about all that is said. The obvious reason is others can hear your conversation. Not that anyone really cares what you are saying, it’s just common practice.

Many times people feel uncomfortable when others get in their space. In a packed elevator, they have no choice. For me, I have a captive audience. So why not have a little fun and make it more interesting for everyone?

Guys will always sneak a peek at a beautiful woman while she is staring as the floors going past, it’s a given. After all, it’s either stare at the numbers or sneak a peek while pretending to look at the same stagnant numbers. Why not, she’s not going anywhere, right?

Women, on the other hand, will nearly always check out other women by avoiding eye contact by glancing at the flashing floor numbers and then appear to stare down at the floor. What they really are doing is checking out shoes and handbags. To some, shoes are an indicator of coolness and good taste. Many women need to know how cool everyone is in the elevator or maybe it’s just a genetic thing. I am not sure which.

Let’s not forget the “Elevator Rule.” That is no matter when you get on an elevator and press your floor number, the next person in will always press the floor just before yours so you don't go directly to your floor. This usually occurs when you are in a hurry.

 

Now that we have the basics down, here are some interesting things to do in an elevator. I don’t endorse them, I am only reporting on the various pranks I have pulled over the years, or thought about how funny it would be to pull off. They always made for a more interesting ride. Some you can do alone, some you will need a co-conspirator to pull off.

I have found I can usually get people to laugh in an elevator. Especially in an awkward situation while riding with a bunch of total strangers in a 12 x 12 enclosed box with boring music playing. If you would like to steal my material, you are more than welcome to try them. I can’t guarantee them to always get a laugh, but minimally you should get a smile.

I have honed these techniques over years and years of practice. I haven’t been arrested, yet, for my mischief. If nothing else, you will give your co-riders something to talk about the rest of the day. Remember, you will most likely never see them again. Who cares?

Years ago when I was single, one of my favorite stunts, was getting into a fairly full elevator with my much younger very beautiful girlfriend. I must admit, this took some time to talk her into as she too always felt uncomfortable in an elevator. Eventually, she gave in and even she had a great time. I converted her into an elevator prankster like myself.

Here’s how it went. We didn’t speak to each other, even as we waited with others for the elevator to come to our floor. She would walk to the back of the elevator as she entered. I would stand at the front and punch the bottom floor. As the elevator was dropping she would move her way to the front, excusing herself as moved past people and tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around and she immediately passionately kissed me as we are riding down until the elevator stopped again. Sometimes it was a short wet one on a short ride, sometimes it was for the entire ride down to the bottom. When the elevator finally stopped, we exited and I said to her, “Nice meeting you” and then we both exited and went in opposite directions. It was fun to imagine what they all must be thinking, or saying to each other, after the door closed. Like “Did you see that? What a lucky guy! Or how come that never happened to me?”

Another prank was to get into an elevator and speak in a made-up foreign language. Once a buddy of mine and I got on one and I decided we were Russian cosmonauts. Without any preparation, I spontaneously spoke to him in what sounded like Russian. He also has a quick sense of humor and picked up on it immediately and joined me in the gag. As we spoke “Russian” we would add a few broken-English words that would let the other passengers think they knew what we were talking about. We got a lot of interesting looks, and we could barely hold it together until we got off the elevator.

These are just a couple of my escapades in elevators. Be sure to read the finish to this story of “Things to do in an Elevator” in Part Two.  Send me something funny you pulled off, or that was done to you, in an elevator. See you then…..

Please follow me on twitter: @slblue and “Follow me with Google Friend Connect” on the tab on the right of this blog. Have a comment? Click "comments" in the section below or send me an email. I would love to hear from you. steveblue22@gmail.com

Things that Confuse Me, Part Two

As I mentioned to you earlier this week, life many times confuses me. Here are a few more concerns I have been wondering about as they make no sense to me.

The Black Hole. Have you ever noticed that no matter what you have in the front seat of your car, it will slide into the small gap between the edge of your seat and the console? It’s like a magnet. Things like your cell phone, credit cards, keys, sun glasses, pills, food, pens, lighters, coupons, money – especially change, wallets, ID’s, and other various paraphernalia. Don't you love when your cell phone has found it's way to the Black Hole and it starts to ring.  You know you have it with you, but you just don't know where it is.  It’s amazing! I have found as I get into my car and throw a pen or anything else over to the passenger’s seat, it will disappear as I am about to sit down. The small 1 inch gap, that houses an unknown invisible creature, will suck it into the Black Hole. On the other hand, if I was actually trying to put it into the gap, I could never do it.

How do I get it out? Then, of course, I always believe I can stick my chubby little hand down into the black hole to retrieve whatever it has stolen. Nope, then it gets wedged next to the electric seat mechanism under the seat and gets stuck, as I scrape the back of my hand on the seat. It has been known to bite and make me bleed at times. The hole teases me, as I can barely touch it, it may even coerce me into pushing it further down into the hole. But I am never able to grab it with my fingers to pull easily retrieve it. No, that would be much too easy. Then I actually start calling the hole various names, which I wish not to repeat here as it still doesn’t help, except to allow me to vent my own stupidity at the Black Hole. If I knew the magic words, I would tell you to save you from this frustrating experience. There are none.

OK, now I ultimately have two alternatives to choose from. First, I can get out of the car and go to the passenger’s side, slide the passenger seat back and try to retrieve my stuff. The hole is rarely kind, but sometimes this works. More times than not, by using this method it will actually push it even further away from me and put it in a place I can only hopefully retrieve from the back seat. If this has this ever happened to you, give me an Amen. Be honest, as if you aren’t being truthful, the Black Hole will keep it from you next time something is missing. 

Next, I close the passenger door and open the back door. Then the procedure is to lay down in the back floor of the car, with feet of course hanging out of the car, to see if it can be found. Note: If you see feet hanging out of someone’s back door in a parking lot, odds are they dropped their keys down into the black hole and are going through the same process I have been describing. Try not to laugh out loud, as they already know they are an idiot and may share some of their frustration with you by verbalizing the same various names I referenced earlier. This could be how parking lot rage began.

Or secondly, I can wait until I go to the car wash, and the attendants mysteriously find all the crap I have not been able to retrieve since the last time I had the car washed. Many times my stuff mystically disappeared and I didn’t even realize it. They find that stuff to as they are well trained professionals who seem to have the ability to find another entrance to the black hole and retrieve my stuff. It’s an embarrassing situation, as they always put all the “lost and found” on the passenger’s seat on display. When you get into the car, you see all your stuff you thought was missing, beautifully displayed to demonstrate that they have this special power and you don’t. I usually tip generously, so they hopefully won’t tell anyone what an idiot I am. The confusion is, how does my stuff always end up there? It totally baffles me.

Cell Phones.  Why must we get new cell phones every two years or so?  At this point, don’t they all basically do the same thing?  Is faster really better? Will a few milliseconds save you that much time you are willing to invest in a new phone? Do you really need a 4^th generation versus a 3^rd generation phone?  Is 1/3 lighter of a few ounces than its predecessor weighs, mean it’s really light?  Can you honestly tell the difference? Maybe the additional weight the earlier version has will help you tone up your arm. Who cares? Ah yes, the marketing departments of cell phone manufacturers and the cell phone communication providers, they are truly are the only ones.

Twenty five years ago I paid $1800 for a Motorola 3000, a revolutionary phone that was permanently hard wired to my car.  It doesn’t do much more than a current phone I can now get for free.  It still drops calls, it still is a waste of money, and if I break it I will need to buy a new one.  Remember when it was nice to be left alone without some annoying ringtone or vibration?  Have you ever had lunch with other business associates, when like gun slingers in the 1800’s everyone puts their hardware on the table?  Don’t you love while having a meal, someone gets a call while in the middle of an interesting discussion?  Is it that important to return a text under the table to your BFF?  Couldn’t it wait until after the meal? 

We have all been programmed by these organizations to think we need the latest, greatest, fastest, lightest, most powerful device available.  Why do you and I fall for it? Ooops, there goes my new I phone, I have to answer it.  It just confuses me.Was Barney Fife really wrong? OK, I am going to date myself, but those of you that never watched “The Andy Griffith Show, or later named “Andy of Mayberry.” Barney was Andy’s deputy and because he could hurt himself or others, Andy gave Barney one bullet to keep in his shirt pocket to be used only for emergencies.

Wouldn’t it be nice if all the militaries in the world were allowed to have one bullet and keep it in their top pocket for when they really needed it? We have figured out how to blow each other up with bigger and better bombs, guns, ships and airplanes. Now we even have ways of blowing each other up without anyone actually flying in the plane with remote control drones.

How has it helped us as a planet? Are we that paranoid that we need to figure out how to get them before they get us? Doesn’t it seem strange that we need a license to carry a gun, but we can buy as many bullets as we want? Guns don’t kill, people with bullets kill. What if they had just one bullet? It has always seemed strange that we kill each other in the name of peace. Have you noticed that most wars are about religion or oil? Does any of this make sense to you?

As I am putting notches on my Confusion Card.I am totally confused right now, do you have any interesting confusions you could share with me? Keep laughing and thinking, it will help make the world a better place to get confused.

See you next Tuesday with the next edition, "Things to do in an Elevator" of Notes by Blue.

Please add me to your twitter: @slblue and “Follow me with Google Friend Connect” on the tab on the right of this blog. Have a comment? Click "comments" in the section below.

Things That Confuse Me, Part One

I spend most of my life confused. Not a big surprise.  Maybe if I explain my concerns in this blog, between us we can all better understand my confusion.  If you are as confused about the same issues or concerns I will welcome you to my Confusion Club, in that I am a card carrying member. Maybe you would like to join in my confusion.  Below are a couple things that make no sense to me.  More on Thursday.

Locks.  Sometimes I think we as a country over-do the need for locks. We lock everything.  We lock our car, computer, home, bicycles, among other things.  I need a password to remember all my passwords.   But there are some things I wonder why we lockup or need a password at all.  While visiting a business recently I asked where the restroom was located.  The receptionist promptly advised me that I needed “The Key” to get into the bathroom and that “The Key” was on the counter.  I walked over to the counter and there it was, a three foot wooden two-by-four attached to a two inch key with the words, MENS RESTROOM brightly printed on it. 

I stood there and laughed as I was confused.  I thought to myself, “Have you ever seen anyone steal a bathroom? Heist a urinal? How about skip out with a toilet seat?” The receptionist asked why I laughed. I replied, “It seems strange to me that the bathroom needed to be locked, but I walked into your office without a key.  Is the stuff in the restroom more valuable than what you have here in your office? One other question, why such a large key fob?  It seemed funny to me.”  She then replied, “People keep losing the key to the restroom.” I thought to myself again, “Don’t lock the bathroom and you won’t have to worry about losing the key.”  When was the last time you were walking down the street and saw a guy running down the street with a toilet under his coat?  It just doesn’t make sense, does it to you?

The Deficit.  Whether you are a Democrat, Republican, Libertarian, or an Independent, this one truly confuses me.  If I got myself in trouble financially, I would have to figure a way out of it on my own by both stop spending and start saving.  If I broke a window, I would be expected to pay to have it repaired.  In business, if you borrowed money to expand your business, you were expected to pay it back or you lost your job, your business or both.  Not so in our government.   In Corporate America, you don’t reward employees for being inefficient; you reward them for doing an exceptionally good job. Here comes the confusing part.  If the Congress overspent our tax money, why don’t they pay it back or immediately lose their job? They created this mess we are into today, they should be responsible for paying it back or be replaced with someone that can do the job correctly immediately.  In baseball if a team is playing poorly, they fire the manager no matter how much time is left on his contract and get someone who can turn the team around as quickly as possible.

Why can’t we just fire the politicians on the spot?  Give them a couple of weeks of severance pay and let them stand in line in unemployment like an estimated 17% of our population (if you include those that have exhausted their benefits and stopped looking)? Or maybe we should create a tax on stupidity to get us out of the current financial crisis. Because Congress continues to make politically self-concerned power-driven mistakes, they would be required to pay an additional surtax on their stupidity. 

Instead, we reward them with a lifelong pension and virtually free health insurance for the rest of their entire life.  No "prexisting ailments" to increase their monthly cost.  While they are doing us a favor by requiring us use their mandated health reform program which does not include them.  This is not to say that a national health program could not help some, it could.  The difference is our Congress get to keep their special health program and don’t have to participate in their constituents federally required program. Here comes the really confusing part.  Have you seen any proposals to save money that would reduce their pension or eliminate either their special healthcare perks we have created for them?  Does it seem confusing to you?

Anyone want to join the Club yet? Tune in and read more confusion in Thursday's Blog.

Please add me to your twitter: @slblue and “Follow me with Google Friend Connect” on the tab on the right of this blog. Have a comment?  Click "comments" in the section below.

Determined Not To Stutter Part Two

I was the first to graduate in my family from college, in Business Administration, much to the surprise of most everyone in my family, including myself.  I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, not unlike most of my friends as we couldn’t make a career out of partying.  What was the most difficult thing I could do? As I love challenges, so I chose a career in sales.  I felt if I was going to learn how to sell, I thought it best to learn from one of the best companies in the country in the early 1970’s. 

My mother-in-law at that time, worked for Xerox Corporation at their region office in Des Plaines, Illinois.  This is a suburb just northwest of Chicago.  She wanted her then son-in-law employed so I could support her daughter and she set up the initial appointment.  After going through a battery of tests, I would then begin the interviewing process.  After 41/2 years of marriage, my wife and I split up 2 days before I had my first interview.  I was devastated.  Over the following course of about 2 months, I was interviewed by 13 different sales managers, none of which had any idea what to do with a stutterer.  I thought to myself, if I can do this while going through a divorce, I can do anything!   I had something to prove.  

Finally, someone took a chance on me at Xerox and sent me to sales training in Fort Lauderdale, in January.  Living in Chicago, I couldn’t wait to get there!  One of the tasks we had to perform was to recite a sales script, word for word, on video.  When the red light flashed, I knew I couldn’t do it.  Finally, after a couple of tries, I said to the instructor, “What if I make the same points, but use my own words?”  Fortunately, they let me do it as I am sure they felt sorry for me.

 Later in my career I was at a Xerox party, I ran into one of the 13 sales managers who previously interviewed me.  He  wanted to hire me, but his boss didn’t approve me.  As he had a bit too much to drink, he came over to me and said, “Steve, I want you to know you tested in the top 10% of all Xerox sales people.”  I smiled and replied, “Go to your broker tomorrow and sell all your Xerox stock.  If I am in the top 10%, we are in big trouble.  This company is going down the tubes as soon as I get a territory.”  We both laughed and the rest, as they say, is history. 

I became one of the top 100 sales people in the USA for Xerox and won countless awards with other Fortune 1000 organizations for my “I Love Me” wall.  While with Xerox, I remember having a commission mistake and was told to go to the regional office as only they could correct it.  I drove up in my brand new corvette, denim suit,  big walrus moustache with shoulder-length hair.  I was so cool.  Little did I know, the person that I had to go to fix my commission error was my former mother-in-law.  We were cordial when we met.  As she looked up in the big computer printout to see what the problem was about, she made the comment to me, “You didn’t make this kind of money when you were married to my daughter!”  I politely answered, “I guess your daughter screwed up.”  She agreed and we had a good laugh.  I actually owe my sales career to her and have been very grateful ever since.

As I moved up in my career, I have had the opportunity to address groups of over 300 without a problem. But I always felt most comfortable with one-on-one sales training.  I would love to be told by a rookie sales rep that they “couldn’t do it as it was too hard.”  I would look them in the eyes and ask one simple question, “Can you speak?  If I can do that, you can do it.  When I started selling I could barely speak.”

The moral of this story is no matter what your goals are in your life, you must want to succeed bad enough that you will work much harder than the rest. But if you don’t want to work hard, I guarantee in the long run, you won’t come close to reaching your goals.  I found it takes complete commitment for success.

As I mentioned earlier, my son has dyslexia and ADD as I passed it on genetically.  It’s heredity.  Not a thing I could do about it. What I also passed on to my son is set aggressive goals, my work ethic and the drive to succeed.  Brendon, always loved helicopters and wanted to fly from the time he was a child.  At 32 he finally decided if he didn’t do it now he never would. Now at 34, he not only is a commercial helicopter pilot, he is about to become an instructor.  I am very proud of him as he did something very difficult through hard work and dedication.  Because he did, he is about to reach his goals.  It’s great to be a Dad and it’s even greater to see your son succeed against all odds.  My Dad said the same to me in his later years.  I guess it’s a family thing.

Starting in the fall, I am taking an Improv Comedy Class here in Atlanta.  It’s my next challenge.  I will be the oldest and the only one that does not want to be on SNL.  Next, is Stand-up comedy.  You should never stop challenging yourself.  Sometimes you will amaze yourself what you are capable of achieving.  The only way to stop achieving, is to stop trying. 

If you know of anyone that stutters, please pass the last two blogs onto them.  Let them know they are not alone and they can do anything they want.  See you next Tuesday for the next installment of Notes by Blue. Please add me to your twitter: @slblue and “Follow me with Google Friend Connect” on the tab in the upper right corner of this blog.

Determined Not To Stutter, Part One

The winner of the Best Picture in this year’s Academy Awards show was “The King’s Speech."  Another award winning movie was “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.”  Both included a stutterer.  I could easily identify with both, as I am a stutterer and have been my entire life.  Some who have known me a long time already know this, some of you may be surprised.  When I was 4 ½ years old my parents enrolled me in a class at the University of Chicago to try to better understand why and what could be done about my stuttering.  I was in a speech class of some sort, usually after school so my friends didn’t know, for most of my grammar and high school experience.  They were honestly concerned as I was their first born and no one wants their child to live with a malady.  But, as all parents know, it’s out of our control.

Fortunately, I was a pretty good athlete, my favorite sport was baseball.  I was successful in something, as I was hardly a model student.  Baseball and sports helped me gain self confidence in other aspects of my life.  I was usually quiet in class, and listened a lot, but not overly shy and introverted. Ironically, I would get in trouble for talking too much in class.  Through it all, I would love to make people laugh.  That is, with me, just not at me.

Early in college, after getting an A in cost accounting, I thought this would be the best path for me to follow.   I wouldn’t need to speak much and I was pretty good with numbers.  My Dad got me a summer job in the accounting department in the company he worked.  After a few weeks, I was falling asleep at my desk as I was never so bored in my life.  I knew what I didn’t want to do, A’s or not, accounting was not for me.

After many years of speech therapy, I was told consistently, I would out grow it.  I finally got to the point, “How old did I have to be?”  Finally, at age 23, I felt if I didn’t outgrow it by now I never would.   I better try a different approach.   I decided to try Northwestern University’s Speech department in Evanston, Illinois.  This is where my life changed.  I honestly thought I was a very rare bird in that other than myself and a close friend in high school, who also stuttered, I never knew anyone else that was dealt the same hand. My stuttering high school friend was very similar to me as he was as determined to succeed and he went on to became a radio disk jockey.  We are still very close friends after all these years.

For two years at Northwestern, I was a member of a group that on Tuesday evenings I would meet with a grad student one-on-one for about two hours.  We worked on using many of the then current approaches to deal stuttering, many of which were used in the Kings Speech.  I wouldn’t stutter when I whispered, sang, was very mad, or used cuss words.  I became very proficient at using cuss words and still am a pro at it. 

On Thursdays, a group of about a dozen people met together for about an hour and a half.  The first night of the group session, I thought to myself as I looked around the room, “I look like that?” Never! But actually, it was true.  I vowed to myself at that moment, I must find a way to overcome this as I wasn’t going to look like that for the rest of my life.  Northwestern put me in a promotional film about the department showing me before and after working with them. 

Later on in life, I was reading an article sent to me by a teacher friend of mine had sent me regarding my son’s dyslexia and ADD.  It was then I realized that stuttering was a form of the same problems my son had.  She thought I knew all about it, actually I had no idea.  I remember growing up getting notes on my report card, almost every time, “Very bright child, but does not apply himself.”  While I was growing up they had no idea of dyslexia.  Finally at 36 I understood why I had so much trouble in school and why I stuttered.

A couple of the tricks I found worked for me, if I had enough sleep I wouldn’t stutter much.  I also learned to choose my words carefully.  I became a human thesaurus.  I remember always having “Roget’s College Thesaurus” with me for reference.  I still use these today and these tips still help me as I still stutter.  You may not catch it, as I hide it well, but I know every time.

Useful Tip: Should you meet someone that stutters you can help them by doing a couple of things.  First, don’t ever look away, stare them directly in their eyes as you would anyone else.  You may feel uncomfortable, but it will help them.  Also, don’t help them with a word they are stuck on. Let them say it on their own.  Whatever you do, never tell them to “slow down, think of what you are going to say and then say it.”  If they weren’t self-conscious before, they will be if you say that.

More about stuttering in Thursday’s edition of Notes by Blue.  Please return, as I have saved the best for last. Please add me to your twitter: @slblue and “Follow me with Google Friend Connect” on the tab in the upper right corner of this blog.