Fail Better

Oliver Napoleon Hill, one of America’s greatest writers about self-improvement, motivation, and success once said “In every adversity lies the seed of an equal or greater opportunity.”  In achieving a difficult goal, Hill conceptualized that the greatest reward was not in reaching the goal, but instead was in the will to continue in the face of growing doubts bred from failures.  Most importantly to note is that Hill did not state “failure.”  Critical to his concept was the kinetic word “failures.”

Everyone can make a long list of failures throughout their life; hopefully.  If all hopes and dreams were easily gained, they would have little satisfaction and soon be forgotten.  But it is the exhausting roads and persistent belief that with each setback, with each refinement of imperfection and expectation that create the most astonishing most memorable life experiences – to perhaps cauterize a realization that life and death work together, not in conflict.  Neither need be feared.  Contrary to antiquated religious teachings, no ‘stand-in’ is required, no depraved condition exists within us unless it is taught, accepted or internalized, and manifested as less-than capable by one’s self-will and surrounded environment chosen.  No, quite the opposite should be taught:  failures are a good option!

Care to revisit some famous failures that came with some spectacular silver linings?

1492 – Geneon explorer Christopher Columbus never did make it to India’s spices and wealth, but instead found much more; so much more that it changed the entire world. *

1804-06 – Cartographers and explorers Lewis and Clark set out to find a water passage from Midwest America to the Pacific Ocean.  No such route exists, however, they documented the land, people, plants and animals which led to the bargain-basement steal of the Louisiana Purchase. *

1896 – Nineteenth century German engineer Otto Lilienthal first pioneered glider-flight that soon inspired the Wright brothers to powered-flight in America.  Days later Lilienthal was killed in a flying accident attempting to perfect his glider. *

1937 – During the latter stages of Women’s Suffrage, aviatrix Amelia Earhart vanished while attempting to fly around the Earth’s equator.  Regarding women’s rights she was quoted earlier saying, “[women’s] failure must be but a challenge to others.” *

1940 – The Tacoma Narrows Bridge had only been completed 4-months prior to its collapse due to high winds.  Wind impact had not yet been fully understood during construction.  Following bridge designs around the world included stabilizing measures and construction. *

1946-56 – Discovery of the 972 texts of the Dead Sea Scrolls at Khirbet Qumran, Israel, convincingly showed a much more comprehensive portrait and subsequently more diverse Second Temple Jerusalem than was traditionally portrayed in the canonical Christian Gospels; further confirming the truer nature of Judaism as opposed to the warring oppressive Greco-Roman version of later early-Christian groups closer to Rome.  For one example of the two 1st century CE severe divergences, read Sign of Jonah in Talpiot Tomb confirmed just this year.

1970 – The Apollo 13 lunar mission failed due to an oxygen tank explosion lethally damaging the flight crew’s breathing system and service module.  However, with ingenious adaptation and resourcefulness NASA brought all astronauts back home safely and with several critical later spacecraft changes. *

1991 – Locking eight scientists in a sealed terrarium called Biosphere 2 did not go as planned:  food shortages, bad air, and “crazy ants” cut it short.  Columbia University then the University of Arizona has since used it for successful eco-bio research. *

1993 – The Apple Newton is recognized as Apple Corporation’s biggest failure.  The personal electronic assistant expired after 6-years of mediocre sales, but led the way for today’s highly popular iPad. *

1998 – NASA launched the Mars Climate Orbiter to examine the Martian climate.  After a 287-day journey and over-budget costs the probe likely incinerated in the Martian atmosphere.  The problem?  NASA used the metric system in its designs, but the engineering team at Lockheed Martin used English units of measure.  Now regular Martian orbiters and land-rovers explore the red planet with feasible developing plans of mining, colonization, and making Mars a leap-frog point into deeper parts of our solar system. *
[ * – National Geographic Magazine, Sept. 2013]
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On a more personal level, an intimate level, these concepts are ever truer for our relationships, especially in marriage and parenting a family.  Some of our best virtues can be born and honed with a marital partner and raising messy failing succeeding children.  And the more the better!

Failure and success coexist.  Though we may have been taught they are dire enemies, they are really identical twins from the same mother:  a life and death well-made and well told.

If you can keep your head when all about you
  Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
  But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
  Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
  And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
  If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
  And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
  Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
  And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
  And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
  And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
  To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
  Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
  Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
  If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
  With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
  And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

If — by Rudyard Kipling

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How many wonderful failures have you made this week?  Was one of them epic?  Profound?

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Stand Up for Sitting!

A meeting of brilliant minds - Lil Rascals

A meeting of brilliant minds – Lil Rascals

Being raised by a former U.S. Marine has its advantages and disadvantages.  My father was an incredibly disciplined man.  It always seemed my daily and weekly chores enslaved my time; time away from friends, the phone, my drum set, or the TV.  I was quite certain he ruthlessly schemed to make my life miserable.  And if it were not enough that I did almost all the yard work outside slaving away in the fire-pit of Texas summers, I had one more chore indoor!  For many years lying in bed at night exhausted, I could not understand why my sister or Mom couldn’t do this horrible indoor chore.  Damn, didn’t I already have enough to do outside!  It wasn’t fair, I’d scream in my head.  But voicing my opinion of Dad’s commands or his demand for unparalleled quality of work would have been like asking Gunnery Sgt. Hartman (R. Lee Ermey) for ice cream in the movie Full Metal Jacket.  No, I’m kidding; but as a the-world-is-against-me adolescent, it sure felt like USMC boot camp!

My #1 chore inside the house was cleaning all three bathrooms to USMC standards.  No one item in those three full-baths demanded any less meticulous attention than any other item or bathroom.  And having two girls in the house, this was never truer than with our toilets.  In the first several years of this duty I think I heard my Dad or Mom yell my name and say “get in here and do it again” about a million times.  I’m sure my sister used a magnifying glass to find any shoddy cleaning just to raise it another million.

Out of all my many house chores, cleaning the toilets I hated the most.

The Oh Moment of Humility

Being the brilliant thinker I was by age thirteen, my bitterness for weekly dirty toilets had reached its pinnacle.  For perhaps 60 long months and over 3,120 toilet cleanings (times 3 toilets = 9,360 minimum!), I was ready to go lavatory-postal!  “Why can’t everybody” I screamed, “use the toilet more cleanly!?”  What was everyone’s malfunction?

Happier times at home

Happier times at home

After my plea for mercy to whatever porcelain gods were listening, they struck me with an odd realization.  Mom and Dad used their own master bathroom.  Theirs was hardly ever as filthy as the one my sister and I shared or the one downstairs next to the game room.  Why was this?  Introspection led to more introspection then another realization:  my Mom and sister ALWAYS sat down.  Hence, all the “messy splattering” was coming from a totally unrealized culprit!  My incredible moment of deduction had landed me in front of the mirror.  There he was…. the only one with the plumbing to do the dirty deeds.  I glared at myself, “You penile-dummy.”  Couldn’t this moment of truth have arrived many years earlier and save me the years of embittered cussing scrubbing!?  Couldn’t have just one of my guy friends have said something?  Why did I make my most hated chore so much harder for so long!?

The Ah-ha Moment of Brilliance

The strangeness of my predicament could not have been measured and help came from the most unlikely place:  my sister.  Noticing my weird expression in the mirror and overhearing my groans and why, Don’t you wish she explained, you had a vagina like me?  I wanted to fire back with my deluded pride in having an above-average you-know-what along with an equally potent stream, but she had a point.  And then I carried her remark a step-further.  No, not that; I was (and still am) happy with my current sex.  Holy Russian race horses, why didn’t I ever think of that!  What is so damn hard about sitting down!?

I began realizing all the benefits of sitting:  A) a hell of a lot less cleaning for me; easy!  B) Sitting down for #2 is already one of the simplest pleasures in a man’s life, duh!  Why not double the pleasure?  C) Sitting down there is no way the lid can fall, slamming-down or clamping down like Jaws, permanently traumatizing a boys vital junk!  And D) I really don’t give a fart what high-T alpha-males think about pee-sitting when I have to clean all the damn toilets!  They can kiss my sitting-down ass!  I am going to be MY OWN Reliever how-EVA I wanna be!  United We Sit!

toilethumor

Disclaimer – if there are wall urinals, I will stand because otherwise that’s too damn awkward.

Come one, come all urinaters; big, small, tall, Moms, or Dads…tell me what you prefer and why.  Am I a “weenie” for being un-masculine or am I just smarter?

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Live Laugh Love

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Unplugging Kids

Interstate 45 Dallas to Houston

Interstate 45 Dallas to Houston

Several times a year during a holiday break our family would drive I-45 toward Galveston or I-35 toward Austin to spend time with family.  It was a trip I would always be excited about because of how much fun and mischief was going to be had with my many cousins.  One such game we would all play was bottle-rocket wars.  We would have these wars at night for as long as our money and rockets lasted.

My Uncle Bill was a construction worker and always had scrap metal and various random work site throw-aways out near his barn.  Three or four teams of two would have one cousin holding a 4-5 foot pipe while the other, with a bag of 30-50 bottle-rockets and two or three lighting pumps was the loader.  The loader placed the rocket in the back-end of the pipe like a bazooka, light the fuse and the shooter aimed as best he/she could.  Since most bottle-rockets were not an exact science as far as precision flight, these wars became hours of crazy laughing fun for us.  This is just one reason out of many that made the 5-hour drive so unbearably long for me and my sister because Dad could never drive fast enough.  For my parents it must have sometimes seemed like 12-hours.

This particular trip I’m sure my sister and I slept little the night before due to our growing anticipation; we were ready to come out of our skin.  About two hours into the drive in our four-door light blue Plymouth Gran Fury sedan, zipping along at 55-miles per hour, sitting in back with my sister, she would inevitably say something or do something to provoke me.  It was always her fault!

Several “stop its” and “you shut-up, no you shut-ups” later my Dad gave us our first warning.  Ten minutes would pass.  Again, my sister of course would whisper something mean to me or make a face at me, hence getting our second more firm warning from Dad.  Mom would try to intervene, sometimes successfully other times not.  She would not this go round.

The We’re-About-to-Blow Speech and Vulcan Death-Clamp

homerchokeMaybe 15-minutes later, my father’s voice raised several decibels and gave us one final ultimatum.  Had he not been driving he would have contorted out of the front seat and launched himself backwards to pop both of us on the legs or butts; and they would not have been love-taps.  His pops STUNG for a good ten minutes.  But the scariest part was knowing what was going to happen at the next stop.  Thinking about it was pure torture.  I’m sure Dad knew this too and worked it to the hilt.  One of his most potent we’re-about-to-blow speeches were when it included the Vulcan death-clamp under the collar-bone.  He’d stare at us like a drill sergeant.  It paralyzed us making our eyes seem to pop-out as our little knees quaked!  In my little mind not even God’s wrath scared me more than my Dad’s.

However, Dad explained he was not going to loose-it this time with us.  He had something different planned.  I doubt my idiot sister’s brain was processing as fast as mine trying to guess what “mystery punishment” was going to be thrown down.  I couldn’t imagine it would be anything that delayed our arrival with the family; Dad was a stickler for schedules and planning and no misbehaving kids of his were going to spoil the appointed arrival time.  After all, he was a mechanical engineer.  Precision was his specialty.  So what on earth could it be?  What was going to be the final fate of my sister and me?

Mile-Marker 241

Then the loose gravel on the shoulder of the highway began hitting the under-belly of the car.  Forty-five, forty, thirty, twenty-five miles per hour, then we came to a slow stop.  “Get out” he said sternly.  Mom looked at him puzzled.  Her expression didn’t ease my fear at all.  When I noticed that neither he nor my mother was getting out, I felt my palms get clammy and my pulse raise.  “Get out on the right side, both of you!” he said more firmly.  My sister looked like she had seen a ghost, but she exited the car with me.  He pointed “See that green sign that says 241?”  Then he explained what was about to happen for the next several miles.  We were going to find number 251.  Weird.  Was this a hunting math game?  Meanwhile, the traffic on the highway was whizzing by every few seconds, drivers and passengers all staring at our family moment as they passed.

Forrest Gump

Forrest Gump

Both of you will now run next to the car.  Do not walk, do not stop. Run!”  He slowly began to pull away.  My sister and I stood there in shock.  “Get over in the grass and run!” he yelled, like those were about to be his last words we would ever hear from him.  In the spirit of sheer fear which would have put Forrest Gump to shame, I ran….I ran like the wind!  My sister screamed and quickly found her legs as well.  Dad pulled a bit ahead of us; we sped up.  The long grass didn’t help our stride.  I tried to glance down to see what not to step in or stumble over, but I couldn’t keep my cue-ball sized eyes off the car for fear of being left!  “Come on…run!” he yelled out the windows.

A half-mile gone we are still running next to or just behind the car, but never ahead of it for some reason.  About every third or fourth vehicle passing us would honk.  I have no clue about why; maybe they were cheering us on, maybe they were expressing their hysteria.  I don’t know.  What I do remember was how embarrassing it all was every honk and quarter-mile as onlookers stared at us; some grinned, some laughing, some astonished but all of it humiliating.

Approaching a mile and a half my sister and I are panting.  Will he show us mercy?  Where the hell was the next damn sign?  “Run!” was the answer.  It was always his answer until our little arms and legs were becoming jello.  I believe that was just over two miles later.  I was trying too hard to suck in as much air as my mouth could capture to notice any mile-marker.

Are you two finished fighting?” as he slowed to a stop.  Since we couldn’t utter a word for lack of oxygen, we both managed desperate nods yes.  Once back into our seats still trying to breathe, I laid my head against the door unable to say or think anything coherent about my sister.  I didn’t care.  I just wanted oxygen!  Mission accomplished.

For the next three hours that drive was perhaps the most pleasant drive the four of us had ever had to date and would be for years.

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Live Laugh Love

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Will the Real America Please Standup

“By the people…”

As I began teaching my middle school and high school students one day about the meaning and power of American citizenship, I realized that several of the basic concepts of our government and how it functions the same from bottom to top seemed alien, even to the high schoolers.  I had been taught these principles by my parents before I reached fifth grade.  As a result, I guided my students back through a quick review and retaught some of these basic concepts and methods, all used successfully in our country (for the most part) for the last 230 plus years.  But something else struck me as peculiar.

Many adults have the same naïvety as my students I stand before in my classroom.  Of course the reasons for this naïvety should not be oversimplified.  However, as is the case with any child on any given day, disabilities or not, they learn how to manipulate situations to meet what their natural, youthful self-centeredness desires.  Recognizing this side of human nature, history shows that if this type of attitude and behavior is not modified at an early age, or at least addressed, then the families of the United States of America grow and nurture adults with firmly learned compounded narrow-mindedness; youthful egotists in adult bodies if you will.  Two integral components of a productive, proactive American adult is neglected:  ownership and collaboration.  How often do you hear these two simple terms in politics?  More to the point, how often do you hear the terms and their real meaning during Presidential election years?

The making of American citizens

I am constantly baffled by American citizens whining incessantly about the current President and or his political party.  In just about any public place or on any public forum or social media, you can always find jabs and derogatory remarks about one man, or one political ideal screwing up this country.  Sadly, I hear this from my middle and high school students just as much!  Where on earth are they hearing or being taught this annoying whining about one man or one ideal?  I promise you this, not in my classroom and I hope not in any publicly funded classroom!  By the way, American people are not ruled, governed, or enslaved by or to one man.  It has thankfully been this way for yes, 235 something years.  If the American public are proactive in their families, communities, states, and federal government — as has been given to them freely according to our Constitution — and proactive in self-ownership of their elected officials, then the reality is this:  YOU are the one to whine about.

Also, if you find yourself in the “minority” of American laws and policies, then once again our system of government freely provides to you the methods of COLLABORATION within your community, state, and federal groups to begin your revolution of change.  That is exactly how our nation’s forefathers constructed our government in the 1700’s and setting it up the same for you today.

Yet, do not be fooled into thinking that “revolutionary change” is in any way done by “THEM“.  On the contrary, it is you who must be actively or proactively involved.  You must sacrifice your own time and efforts to gain the change you seek.  It is you who must learn to be a master of collaboration and diplomacy, not “them“.  If you are truly convicted about your policies and ideology, then YOU become the next Thomas Jefferson, or Abraham Lincoln, or Martin Luther King, Jr.  And I, as your equal, will first educate myself thoroughly on your dream of change, and if it coincides with my ideals, then perhaps together we can collaborate and take ownership of our social system as it was meant to be in the first place, and make those changes happen.

Good government starts in your own family

However, allow me to point out that before you can create a better America, or a better state or community, you must first have your own house and family in good, happy working order.  The cliché “Those who can be trusted with the little things, can be trusted with the greater things” is never more true in this case.  What is taught, nurtured, and matured in the home will either add to or subtract from our country.  More precisely, if you were taught the basic principles of ownership, collaboration (teamwork), understanding, and tolerance for diversity, then your chances of making America better are profoundly excellent.  If not, then you will find yourself always swimming upstream with no one to aid you, no matter how much you whine aloud.

President Obama, or the political party he affiliates himself, have never been the entire problem America faces today.  Americans are sleeping in the very bed they have made for themselves.  Whether it is a lack of principles, education, family values, collaboration, or whatever your slogan, take ownership America for your inactivity in local, state, and federal government, or your shortcomings of collaboration, understanding, and intolerance.  But quit blaming “them”.  Quit blaming one man.  Pointing fingers at opposing political officials only demonstrates a severe lack of collaboration and ownership.  Our governing officials, laws and policies are only a mirror of not only each American citizen’s voice, but equally our societal depth, from our own family right up to our federal officials.

President Obama, proudly take your seat.  It isn’t your lack of leadership that has America in this predicament.  It is each of us citizens, on every level; so…will the REAL America please standup, act collaboratively, and take ownership of your country’s good and bad.  Our current economic and societal woes are “…for the people, BY the people“.  It does not say by one man.

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