Blog

I’m sorry, so sorry

If you read both my blog and my ‘facebook’ you are about to get a repeat.

My new favorite human. The alopecia lyric nearly knocked me to the ground. Reminded me of ….

watch past 51 seconds.. you will get it

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Wisdom at 3am

My son woke up in the middle of the night and crawled down to my office. Somehow he knows now when I am up in the middle of the night working. (I have insomnia – I get up every night at 2:30am or 3am.) He brings a blanket over next to me and sleeps there for the night.

After about an hour he started saying something. Emphatic. Over and over. “xlkasjldf” “XKLASJLDF” “XSKASJLDF!!!!”

I’m thinking perhaps my little 3 year old is telling me the meaning of life. I get close to him and put my ear next to his mouth.

“PILLOW!”

Oh. I got him one. He went back to sleep. I went back to work.

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A spoonful of my own

There is a relationship between risk/innovation/mistakes/failure.

I failed last week at something I wanted to go well. I spent all of Saturday in my head beating myself up…

Waste of time. Doesn’t make me better. Self indulgent.  I’m sitting there at a campsite with 20 or so kids and distracted in my head by something I “tried” that did not work the way I wanted it to.

Innovation only happens on the heels of the things that didn’t go well. Yet, I am seduced by doing things the same so I don’t feel like an ass when it doesn’t work out.

I fear I might become my own little strip mall.  Vanilla and repeatable.

When traveling I purposely avoid strip mall eating and instead try to find something untried and potentially scary.   I risk my evening tummy for an avoidance of the known and average.    25% of the time I am pleased, 15% of the time I get sick and the other percentage no change.

Risk was easier, BB.  (before baby)  Now that I am the sole financial support of this little guy and his Harvard college education I am often afraid of risk.  Of losing a client, messing up his life.   I get hobbled by this.

So do the organizations I work in.  We get hobbled when we have something we could lose.  We go to the known so we can be safe.

Safe may be warm and cozy – it isn’t as interesting.   Or is it?  Am I just a product of my childhood?  My sister and didn’t just  go around on the merry-go-round  – we had to invent knew ways of throwing that ring into the mouth of the clown.   It was much more fun that way and she was a lot better at it. Each rotation we had a new way of hanging off the side of that horse – until they kicked us off after a couple of warnings.

Rambling.    I must get a better relationship with failure.

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Don’t it turn my brown eyes blue

I have a secret to tell you. Don’t tell anyone.
Since I was a wee child I have had a mad crush on Paul Newman.

When his salad dressing came out I purchased it not for the flavor – for the picture. It is embarrassing a little. It is just that moment in Sundance Kid that just never left my heart.

I saw a quote today – like it.

“If you’re playing a poker game and you look around the table and and can’t tell who the sucker is, it’s you.”
-Paul Newman

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2 things today

On a car during rush hour with 6 little kid stickers on the rear driver window. You know the ones. The Mom stick figure, the dad stick figure, the dog, maybe the cat and then the number of kids. 6 kids. (lucky)

Sign said:
“I love you as you are. I just love you too much to let you stay that way. -God”

Nice.

Then, an e-mail from a friend who remembered my dad loved Edgar Allen Poe. Sent my pop this one for his birthday.

The Happiest Day, the Happiest Hour
by Edgar Allan Poe

The happiest day – the happiest hour
My sear’d and blighted heart hath known,
The highest hope of pride and power,
I feel hath flown.

Of power! said I? yes! such I ween;
But they have vanish’d long, alas!
The visions of my youth have been –
But let them pass.

And, pride, what have I now with thee?
Another brow may even inherit
The venom thou hast pour’d on me
Be still, my spirit!

The happiest day – the happiest hour
Mine eyes shall see – have ever seen,
The brightest glance of pride and power,
I feel – have been:

But were that hope of pride and power
Now offer’d with the pain
Even then I felt – that brightest hour
I would not live again:

For on its wing was dark alloy,
And, as it flutter’d – fell
An essence – powerful to destroy
A soul that knew it well.

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