Mileposts

Each of us comes from a particular time with a certain set of basic information included because of that time. Whether you are a member of the Silent Generation or Baby Boomer or Generation Y - Millennial or Generation Alpha, this is always true. I am solidly a Boomer, born almost right in the middle of that group. It carries baggage, just like being a Generation Alpha will carry, although much of theirs is yet to be seen as we are only six years into that group's life.

One of the things I remember about being a child and young adult in the group to which I was born was how big everything was. Computers took whole rooms in a building and required their own cooling system; televisions were all console models and had to sit away from the wall because of the length of the main tube in the device. Heck, I remember a hay baler my Uncle Norm owned which you could climb up into and included its own motor. And then there were the cars. The first car I owned - a 1973 Grand Sedan - would easily haul eight, sometimes more, and had a trunk big enough to house a small family. I have kidded over the years that I never parked it, I actually docked it.

Anyway, in those days when someone reached 100,000 miles on a vehicle, it was a really big deal. Okay, first of all, the odometers wouldn't register more than a hundred thousand miles, so when you went past that number, it would turn over to zero. This was such a big deal, it was not uncommon to get the family and have them all in the car when this happened. It definitely would have been worth a post on Facebook - if Facebook would have been around.

A couple of weeks ago, I reached a hundred thousand miles on my truck. It was such a big deal I actually didn't even notice it until after the event had occurred. The biggest thing it did for me was to make me consider how long I wanted to own this truck. I decided to keep it for 220,000 miles before looking for something different. One big difference about this milepost from when I was younger is that number no longer indicates the end of a vehicle's life. People routinely put more miles on their vehicles. Many people I know purchase used vehicles with more than a hundred thousand miles and don't think a thing about it. My workplace owns vehicles with well over 600,000 miles that effectively do their job every single day.

There are certainly other types of mileposts in our lives, often regarding age. I hit fifty in 2006 and by all accounts, I was a horrible human about it. I didn't want to be there and I wasn't afraid to tell everyone about it. I actually have a couple of friends that have never reached out to me on my birthday since because of the person I was that day. Last year, I hit the sixty number. I actually tried to be more gracious and think I succeeded to some level. Probably still have work to do.

Earlier this week one of our neighbors turned 100. Now, that is a milepost. He has had a life filled with opportunities to learn and see things that others in his group never did. He has a tremendous perspective on all of it. He lives by himself in his own home and still drives his own car. Many of us (myself included) believe everyone ends up in a nursing home, but it is not true. I listened to a great TED talk yesterday showing that the percentage of older Americans living in nursing homes is only four percent and this percentage is actually dropping. Here is the link if you want to check it out.

What I would like to leave you with today is there are tons of mileposts out there. We see and go by them every day. They are only reminders of what we have done and where we have been. They need not shape us in negative ways. Our reaction is completely up to each of us. Yes, I will admit that more of my parts hurt today than when I was twenty-one, but the things I know and have learned in those intervening years are worth the miles.

If you ever watched the movie Dead Poet's Society with Robin Williams, remember the phrase Carpe diem and go out and seize today. For those of you in central Iowa, the State Fair is going on. That could be a great place to do exactly this. For those of you from other parts of the world, why are you not here at the Iowa State Fair?

Rhetoric

Having just celebrated the birth of the nation and thinking about the considerable rhetoric permeating our country each day, I stopped today to think about the way we converse with each other. While this is a much-discussed topic, and conversations take up a great percentage of our days, a couple of things in the last few weeks it made me think about it again.

Two weeks ago, one of my drivers had a wreck. Fortunately, no one was injured. But here is what I find interesting. When I was told about it, the first thing people wanted to talk about was the damage to the vehicle. Honestly, at that point, I could not have cared less. The first thing I wanted to know was that my driver was okay.

In the middle of that conversation I was taken back to the day when one of my kids had a small fender bender. Again, the first thing that they wanted to tell me was about the vehicle. Same situation, I could have cared less.

One of the things we need to concentrate on is where in our conversations we talk about the important things. Given the examples I just wrote about, both times the first thing I wanted to know was that everyone was okay. All the rest was relatively unimportant details to deal with later.

So where this brings me is to ask how many times our personal conversations dance around important topics rather than discussing them first?

My answer, regarding my life and the way I deal with others says that all too often I never get to the important topic. We know each other on a superficial level, having conversations about the news and other minutia around the day.

There are some relationships that I need to think about, work on, and change so that they can be better and stronger moving forward. As my children began driving, one of the things I told them was around exactly this. I told them, and I’ve told everyone that ever worked for me: tell me the important things first. If you’re in a wreck, tell me that you’re okay; if you fail a test, tell me what the plan is to overcome; if you’re changing your life plans, tell me all the details.

When I worked for Payless Cashways, as managers, many of us subscribed to the saying “ask for forgiveness rather than permission.” This worked relatively well for me, right up until the day that my senior vice president asked if that’s what I had done in a situation. It had been. I'd made a decision that I knew if I had asked permission, I would not have been allowed to do it. So I went right ahead and did what I wanted to do and waited for the questions and the consequences. I hadn't expected to be asked if that it been my methodology. When faced with that question, all I could do was answer honestly and truly feel embarrassed at my thought process.

Today, I think about the importance of honest and upfront communication. With all of these random thoughts, the place I land is that it is more necessary now than ever before to be truthful with those people who are important to us.

If you have a boss, tell them what’s really on your mind - you may be surprised at the outcome.

If you have friends and family that you care about deeply, tell them, don’t just think that they will know. Start with the important conversation first.

Think about conversations through the filter that is the way you would like to hear things. This will not fail you, however it may present some different opportunities and directions than you’ve seen in the past.

And for the sanity of everyone involved, if you’re in a wreck, and you need to call somebody, first tell them that you’re okay.

Okay, those are the thoughts of this simple woodworker from central Iowa. I get to go to the shop again today and work on the teardrop trailer for my sister. This is a labor of love, and I am thankful for every moment of it. Have a good week.

Opportunities

The last few days have been hot.  I would tell you middle-of-August hot, but I had a friend point out to me the other day it is somewhat typical to have days like this in June.  In the Midwest, in the summer, when you have weather like this, one of the things which we all think of is the possibility of a tornado.  Typically, this is something which comes in the evening as the day cools and the different temperatures swirl together. 

On June 13, 1968, forty-nine years ago, my mother, sister and I were on the floor of a cabin on West Okoboji in northwestern Iowa when several tornadoes hit at once.  The devastation was incredible.  The miracle was there were no lives lost.  The following days were miraculous for an eleven year old boy who loved mechanical stuff.  Mrs. Jones, the lady that ran the resort we were staying on offered me a bow saw and told me to cut up anything that had fallen.  And I did ... what fun.

But I'm not really thinking of any of this today.  I'm thinking about lost opportunities and the times I have said “No” when I should have said “Yes."  This time at the lake was a really good example.  After the initial cleanup was done, a lot of people flocked to the lake to help out.  One group of people that came were scuba divers.  In this group was a man from my hometown.  His name was Bob Smith and his son Larry was in my class through high school.

Apparently, one of the tornadoes at the lake had actually become a waterspout, pulling water into the sky and effectively lowering the level of the lake.  Immediately after the storm, we went outside and could see things that had been blown into the lake sticking out of the water.  Later, when Bob went in to recover these items, he found them under multiple feet of water.  This still isn't the important part of this story, but we are on the way there.

One day Bob asked if I wanted to try out scuba.  He wasn't talking about a class or anything like that; he was just going to get me “geared” up and take me into the lake.  This is something I had always wanted to do, but when presented with the opportunity, right then and there, I said “No thank you.” 

What? Why would I do such a thing?  Looking back on it now, I have no idea, but I remember being scared - not of being hurt or worse, but being scared I wouldn't be able to do it perfectly the first time.  Wow.  The funniest thing about it now is that seven years later, Bob was the person who took me through the training and got me scuba certified.

I am listening to a book on tape by Jon Acuff, and he speaks about this exact situation.  He talked about being invisible and making mistakes.  In that lake, in NW Iowa, if I had made a mistake, it would have been in front of one or two people.  I wasn't working on a television special with Jacques Cousteau diving off the Galapagos Islands to be viewed by millions.  It was a learning opportunity and a mistake would have been in front of a small group who knew I was just learning this skill.

But with all of this laid out there, this was not the time to learn this lesson.  There were multiple more times in which I behaved exactly the same way.  Whether it was skating, skateboarding, downhill skiing, waterskiing, it was always the same. I didn't want to make a fool of myself, and I always thought there would be another chance.

Well, sometimes there aren't second chances and the opportunity in front of you will be the only time it presents itself.  So, what am I going do with this info?  I am going to work  to  turn to the Jim Carrey movie and become the “Yes Person.”  I'm going to work to say yes at least more than I say no.  I'm going to work to recognize what things really are don't-miss opportunities.  And I am going to do a better job of recognizing when I am invisible.  When can I make a mistake or a misstep without the whole world watching?

You have been a big part of this over the last couple of years for me.  You've been part of an audience that reads the words I put out there, and when I make mistakes, you just understand them and we move on.  When I run into many of you face to face, you are supportive and encouraging of the things that I talk about.  I appreciate you and thank you for following me on this journey.

Now, go out there and find a way to do something that you want to and that you have said “No” to in the past.  Have a great day.

Lemonade

As the summer heats up, I find myself thinking of earlier times. People call them better times, and often they may be, but I just think of different times.

I was a small Iowa townie. My community was 2500 people, almost all of whom knew me. Not only my direct family, but my extended family lived there. Often times, I had trouble telling the difference between the two.

As days grew longer in the summer, we spent much more time at my grandparents' home. Both of my grandparents worked for the county - Grandpa drove a rock truck and Grandma worked in the county engineer's office. Neither one of them ever knew how to take time off, so summer at Grandpa and Grandma's was always about work. Mostly, it was about horses and the training of horses. Some summers we had as many as twenty horses belonging to other people we worked with and trained.

One night last week, as it was just reaching dusk, my memory took me back to those days. It was the time of the day you reached for all day long. This was when the last horse of the day was worked, cleaned, and put back in the barn. This was the time of day when friends and people that came over would say their goodbyes and head home. This was the time of day for a long exhale, finally finished with all that needed to be accomplished.

This was also the time my grandmother would break out the lemonade. This was never any kind of just-add-water product. This was lemonade made the way my grandmother had always made it - real lemon juice, real sugar, ice and water. This was lemonade served in the burgundy pitcher she always used for lemonade. It was good lemonade in and of itself but what came with it was better.

This was the time of the day when everyone there would stop, sit and relax, discussing the things that were on their mind. These were the times I got to see the world through others' eyes. Whether the discussion was about gasoline prices or the amount of rain we'd had, I always learned something. Even more important, at this particular gathering I was treated more like an adult and less like a child.

I wonder what the equivalent is today.

As we raised our own children it was hard to break them away from all the diversions in their life. The gameboys and computer games, the books, movies and television - all of it. We did not have the equivalent of drinking lemonade at my grandmother's picnic table. I think that was a miss. The interesting thing for me is now that the kids are older, when they're home, we work to make this exact kind of time. Although all our days are crazy busy, we try to stop at least once during the day and just talk. And just like those times of my grandma's house these moments are some of my favorites. This is when I find out what my children think and what's important to them. This is when I find out about new trends, new musical artists, and information I didn't even know existed.

In this mile-a-minute world in which we live, I encourage you to try and find time to have a glass of lemonade. Find time with family, friends, acquaintances, and even people you don't know very well but would like to know better.If we can find a way to do this we will all grow from the experience.

Like Minded

I have been fortunate in my life to have worked and played with a very diverse group of people. All the way back to my days at Drake, I remember conversations about things that make us different - family traditions and experiences from our past. All these things make us different and and if we choose to learn from each other - make us better.

I carry a great deal of this experience with me daily, and it shapes the way I look at the things I have to handle. It makes the way I interact with people different than it would have been without these experiences. I've been listening to a book by Jon Acuff and he talks about the fact that sometimes, until you know the things a person has experienced, you can’t really understand the way they interact with you. This is so true, and maintaining a “lens” through which we look at others, based upon their history and not ours, is tough work.

And then ... we get a chance to spend time with people that are a little more like us. I got to experience this environment a couple of weeks ago at the annual “Weekend with Wood.” These people, all 250 of them, are my people. They love the things I love. They reflect back the way that I view a lot of the world, or at least the part of it about woodworking. Now, based on the group, and me telling you they were a reflection of me, evidently I'm a 75 year old male with some hearing loss.

That weekend was spent talking to people who not only love the same avocation as me, but in many cases they are much more accomplished at it. I spend time at these events learning from the other participants. Pile on top of all of that the wonderful speakers brought in for the event, and it was just about a perfect teaching/training/networking event.

What did I learn?  First and foremost I learned again, if something is not working, look to your process. So many times the process is the flaw. My case in point is around my rail and stile doors. I've gotten pretty good at these, which is a good thing, as I am about to tie in to Sara’s new kitchen, but there has been one ongoing issue I have not been able to fix. In the middle of one of the session, the crystal bullet fired into my brain. I realized the process I use has a couple of steps reversed. In fixing the order of process, my issue will be resolved. Worth every cent I spent.

I also convinced myself it might be possible for me to start working with items which are not straight. I've always said my woodworking is about straight lines and right angles. Well, what do you know! I may actually be able to add some curves and sculpture to my work. This opens up a whole new set of things I can produce. And now ... after all the times I've said NO, it might even be time to think about building chairs with shaped seats. Crazy, right?  I know.

Finally, I learned once again there are always more “toys” out there to add to the woodworking arsenal. I took my first class in CNC (computer numerically controlled) woodworking. This has been in the big commercial shops for years and was always something that amazed me. Now it is coming to the home shop for only about $6000.00 or (of course) more. To use the words of one of my children, “I Need That.” On top of this new home shop technology, I spent time around the folks from Epilog. They make a laser engraving system that is just awesome. If you are considering sending me something for Father’s Day, Thanksgiving, or Kwanza, please check out their website. This will make the things that you build much cooler by adding a little “bling.” https://www.epiloglaser.com/index.htm

I should have bought one of these years ago, but I needed a way to get to work and it was either a truck or a laser, and you just can’t drive a laser.

So, in this diverse world I love so much, I spent three glorious days with people that like to do the same kind of hobby work I do. I found it uplifting, encouraging and just downright motivating. My friend, Russell, is the first benefactors. He needed a project completed and I knocked it out more quickly than I usually do. I've included a picture - a desktop for the new standing desk he is putting in his office.

And finally, if you are a woodworker, wear your hearing protecting, darn it. Hearing loss is slow and irreversible. It would be nice if when I go back to Weekend with Wood in a couple of years we can all still talk to each other. Have a great day.

Interconnected

I had a conversation the other day about how the world has become more insular. We have the ability to shop from home, have all of our goods delivered to us by Amazon (not by drones...YET) and watch all of the entertainment and news we want without ever having to talk to a single solitary soul.  Heck, the time is soon coming when we will get in our autonomous cars and never interact with the world as we go from one place to another.  I may even be able to get in a car in Iowa, tell it to take me to see my sister in Maine, and sleep most of the way there.  Now, that would be awesome.

But then, I was struck this week by the weird way that things can be interconnected, even if only one person really sees it.  Attached to this blog is a picture of a kind of strange box - something I just built in the shop. It is for a gentleman - a friend - that I work with. He sells firewood on the side.  He does all of the work to get and bundle the wood and then sells it along the road.  Several months ago, I asked if he would like some of the small bits and pieces that I generate in the shop to include with the offering as kindling.  He thought that would work and we tried it.  Now, every week or so I bring him a box of kindling. Apparently his customers like it.  Jason places the box I bring him beside his firewood and often it is just picked up by the first customer, rather than portioned out as we had thought it might be done.  As an aside, he mentioned that if he could secure a more stable box to the ground and simply pour the pieces of kindling into it, the process would be better.  Off to the shop I went.

Now, here come all of the connections.  The plywood this box is a piece of 3/4" treated plywood we used for a ramp that we needed when my daughter was in a wheelchair.  And that piece of plywood came from a family friend, Jim B, from the Twin Cities.  He hauled it to Des Moines to help me build the ramp.  Several lifelong friends work at the lumberyard he brought it from. Interestingly enough, Jim has decided it is time to do something new with his life.  I'm certain that every one of us who knows Jim, hopes this is one of the best decisions that he has ever made.

For the top of the box, I used finished oak pieces which came from a neighboring Toybox unit owner.  Over the last year or so, my shop has become the place where wooden things go when nobody knows exactly what to do with them.  Sort of like the home for misfit toys in the Pixar movie.  In this case, the pieces came from an oak bunk bed that was no longer needed.  I've used parts of that bed in several different projects, now with some of the last of it going to the kindling box.

Next on the list is something that you may barely be able to see - a brand mark declaring that the item was made in 'Jim's Toybox.'  The brand was a Christmas/Birthday gift from my kids, Lyndsey and Andrew, in Lees Summit, Missouri.  It was such a thoughtful gift.  I use it on everything that I make and each time that I use it, I wonder how many years into the future that brand will still be visible. While the kindling box won't be around that long, the rocking horse I'm building for the Iowa State Fair Corndog Kickoff will be a treasured childhood toy for many years to come.

As I think about all the people, places, and processes involved in creating a simple kindling box, I am amazed. This item started my thought process today, as I considered the ways the world is interconnected without people even realizing it. Over the next days, weeks, and months, people will stop by Jason's house to buy firewood and pick up kindling. Through that action they will become part of a much bigger interconnected story, though they have no idea these connections even exist.

Okay, that seems deep enough for today. My challenge is to think about the interconnectivity in your life and the lives of those you know. Often times, thinking about and recognizing them can bring a smile.

Exciting things are happening at the Toybox. Still working on my sister's camper -  I need to share more pictures. Additionally, I started building a desktop for a friend, and another person has reached out to me about building custom bookcases. Things are busy at the shop.

I hope my words give you a moment to think, hopefully about people and connections that you haven't thought of for long time. Take a moment today and reach out to one of those people. You may be amazed at what it brings back to you.

Long View

The other day I was having a conversation with a friend when he asked me a very interesting question: What do you suppose old people think about?

Okay, so I had to dig in deeper. There had to be more to the question. As we talked through it, I realized his question actually related back to a conversation I had with my Grandmother when she turned seventy. I may have already told you about this. On her seventieth birthday, Grandma decided she had reached the age where she was no longer gong to tell people what they wanted to hear. Instead, she was going to tell them what was really on her mind. That completely related to the conversation last week. My friend's question was really about getting older - seeing and dealing with more things and having less patience with people not listening to you when you KNOW what you are telling them is right.

In the middle of this thought process I was transported back to being an In-Store Supervisor with Payless Cashways. I was actually an In-store for a long time compared to many people I came into the mangement training program with. A lot of this had to do with the fact I really didn't want to move. What's hilarious about that is that once I got over that issue, we moved seven times in ten years. Talk about pros. We were.

Anyway, I was at the Hickman Road store in Clive, Iowa for several years as an In-store. The way the job worked, the inside of the store was divided into three roughly equal parts. The three in-store supervisors each had one section and reported to the Assistant Manager. The positions rotated to a new person any time someone was promoted, or otherwise left (if you catch my drift). Because of the number of years I was there, I had all of the areas several times.

My store manager was a gentleman named Denny. I learned a ton from him. I am the leader/manager I am today - partially because of him. I certainly do appreciate the teacher/trainer he was. We are getting away from the story. On this particular day, Denny called me into his office. I could tell I was in some kind of trouble. As we talked, he explained to me that I was no longer going to be able to manage the cashers. Although this was just fine with me, I decided I should ask why. Denny went on to explain that I was making too many cashiers cry. In digging through the series of information, what we both realized was that I had reached a point where I was unwilling to listen to any of their excuses/reasons for not doing the job correctly. I had just heard all of the crap too often before. It was like Klinger coming in to tell Colonel Potter the reasons he should be sent home. Potter had heard it all before.

This was the question I was being asked last week. Is there a time when you have heard and seen so much that you no longer  care to deal with a lot of the crap people throw at you?  I believe the answer is yes, with a couple of caveats.  First, I think each of us has the ability to deal with repetitive or trivial questions, but the amount we can deal with is in direct proportion to the amount of other things going on in our lives. When we are extremely busy or challenged, our ability to deal with these types of questions and behaviors is far less than when we are relaxed and not as busy. The second caveat is that the ability to deal with trivial matters is directly affected by the amount we like the person doing this to us. If it is someone we like a lot, they can ask trivial/repetitive questions forever and we will keep answering. If it is someone that has driven us a little crazy from the beginning, this will always be an issue.

So the question that came at me kind of answers itself. When someone has lived a long time, and seen a lot of things, my experience has been they are always willing to help with something or answer a question - but only once. My grandfather was the first to teach me this. He would give me all the time I needed the first time. After that, he believed I should know what to do.

I really think this is the way a lot of our seniors view this. They will always help us, but we should see them as the resource they are. They are a cherished resource - not to simply be used on mundane matters which could be figured out other ways. This is actually much like some other cultures who see their elderly as a resource rather than a liability. Maybe we should think more about that and recognize our more senior members of the job, the family, the community - for the long view they have and are willing to share,

Call your parents and grandparents today if you can and tell them how much you appreciate the help and knowledge they offer you, all of the time.