Entries from March 2008 ↓

Tom Peters did a half-hour interview with 800-CEO. The audio quality isn’t top notch, but the content is worthwhile. One thought that he presented was his desire - his need - to say something. If you’ve ever seen Tom live-and-in-person (or even on DVD or videotape), you know he does indeed possess passion. He argues that public speaking is an awful lot about about enthusiasm. In truth, having something to say is all about a passion of some sort. Nothing terribly new here, but it is a worthwhile question:

Is there something you simply have to say?

There are too many people who burn our ears with messages not worth hearing because they really have nothing to say. They’re simply seem enamored with their own voice.

I’m reminded of the line by Steve Martin’s character to John Candy’s character in “Planes, Trains and Automobiles”. “Have A Point!” If you’ve got something to say - something you are compelled to say - make sure you have a point! Then, learn how to make that point.

This isn’t restricted to public speaking. I think it applies just as well to conversation. Perhaps I’m in a minority in that I don’t often enjoy mindless, shallow conversation. Too much conversation is meaningless.

Peters claims the secret to public speaking is “stories, stories, stories.” Unfortunately, not everybody has a story worth telling. And not everybody has the ability to tell a story successfully. Good or great stories told by good or great storytellers is a recipe for public speaking success. Easier said than done.

What is it that you must say? Is there anything?

The answer speaks to your passions. So it could also be asked, “What are you most passionate about?”

AP Photo and AP Story

BERLIN — Petra the swan has a new home and so does her beloved swan-shaped paddleboat.

In 2006, Petra, a black swan, became so attached to the boat — shaped like an outsized white swan — that she refused to leave its side at a lake near a zoo in the German city of Muenster.

Petra and her paddleboat were taken to the zoo.

Zoo officials finally parted bird and boat last week after Petra settled down with a real white swan and the boat was returned to the lake. But the romance was short-lived. The zoo says that on Saturday her new beau flew off and sought out the company of other black swans.

A zoo statement says that Petra “appears to feel lonely” and is swimming around in an agitated state. The solution? On Friday, she will be taken back to the nearby lake and her faithful paddleboat.

…………………………………………

I’m not an expert in “attachment” issues of critters, much less people. But I do know there is truth to the phrase that “birds of a feather flock together.” Petra seeks companionship. Maybe she even seeks family. Who knows what is going on in her swan brain? But we all need others who are like us. And it’s clear we gravitate toward those who are similar to us.

In this year’s presidential election we seem to be hearing more and more how voters almost always vote along familiar lines. Blacks are drawn to Obama. Whites might be drawn to Hillary or McCain. Females might be more drawn to Hillary. I’m sure it’s more complicated than that, but in the end - perhaps there is something to people voting for a person who seems most like them.

Familiarity. Similarity. Petra wants both. For whatever reason she has found it in the big swan paddle-boat. It makes me consider what I’m looking for when I search for familiarity or similarity. And it forces me to realize that in many ways I’m like Petra, unwilling or unhappy to do something different. I like who I like. I love who I love. I want what I want.

And like Petra I can become frustrated, depressed and agitated when forced to gather with birds of a different feather.

Discreet is defined by Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary as “having or showing discernment or good judgment in conduct and especially in speech.”

Discretion is defined by the same source as “cautious reserve in speech; ability to make responsible decisions.”

People are watching. And listening. More now than ever before. Hiding is almost impossible. But I’m not speaking of hiding. Nor am I addressing people like the former governor of New York who slink around committing acts of immorality (or illegality). I’m referring to everyday people like you and me. People who just live our lives. People who are not public figures. People who think their lives are relatively closed except to closest friends and family. People who sometimes lack the ability to properly discern just now little discretion exists in their lives thanks to the world wide web.

Most of us don’t live our lives with this view - paparazzi staring us in the face everywhere we go. As a result, we think we may be living in quiet anonymity. We’re wrong. Quiet anonymity is hard to accomplish. It’s especially hard when people don’t even try.

Heather Armstrong began one of the web’s most popular blogs, dooce. On her about page she writes this, “I started this website in February 2001. A year later I was fired from my job for this website because I had written stories that included people in my workplace. My advice to you is BE YE NOT SO STUPID. Never write about work on the internet unless your boss knows and sanctions the fact that YOU ARE WRITING ABOUT WORK ON THE INTERNET. If you are the boss, however, you should be aware that when you order Prada online and then talk about it out loud that you are making it very hard for those around you to take you seriously.”

Ms. Armstrong never thought her first writings would come back to haunt her. She was wrong. Now, she writes with an unabashed lack of restraint. She lets fly about every aspect of her life. It works for her. She’s a professional blogger. She’s funny, profane and unreserved. She makes a living blogging. Most web users don’t make their living doing what Heather does.

Facebook. MySpace. Xanga. Spoke. Linkin. Blogger. YouTube. Veoh. eBay. Cell phones. Cell phone cameras. Digital cameras. Digital pocket recorders. The list is long.

Digital footprints.

As early as 2000 I read an article in the New York Times about a college professor who was using digital forensics to help local law enforcement catch criminals. The FBI regarded Dr. John Leeson, an associate professor at the School of Computer Science at the University of Central Florida in Orlando, as one of the pioneers of the trade. I suspect that industry - digital forensics - has seen quantum leap growth. I also suspect the task has grown easier as people roam the digital landscape unaware of the footprints they leave behind.

Young people post their photographs, cell phone numbers, home addresses, email addresses, where they attend school, where they work, where they congregate after school, and most other details without considering that people other than their friends see what they post.

Couples drone on and on about their love and lust for one another. Some readily write of their encounters - some graphically so. I’ve been married a long time. I once wrote love letters to my wife. In a pre-Internet world, I never once photocopied them and posted them at school or elsewhere. They were my private letters to her. Private. Not public. Discreet. Not indiscreet.

Much of the worldwide web is a digital version of a junior high school year book. Full of personal, teeny-bopper commentary. And too much personal information.
The public domain is now a domain for everybody. Resumes are found online. Complete and detailed biographies, too. Discussion of jobs once held. Firings. It’s all there - for some people. They know not the meaning of the two words that began this post.

Perhaps I’m just more private than most. But I rather think that some, especially the younger and less mature, speak their minds on the web about anything and everything without regard to the digital footprint they leave. Maybe they don’t care.

Celebrity would likely kill most of us. The scrutiny. The constant attention. At least celebrities earn millions of dollars. Why put yourself out there for nothing?

Who cares who I love, or how much I love them? Who cares who you love, or how much? Who cares where you live (besides people of poor character who may use such information for evil purposes)? Who cares what your cell phone number is (except advertisers who can spam you with text messages, etc.)?

My advice: learn to limit your digital footprint. They will likely cause you more harm than the carbon footprint you read so much about these days (yes, I’m prepared for all the Al Gore fans to chastise me soundly).

What could I learn about you if I simply Googled your name and determined to find out as much as possible? Do you care? Adopt an attitude of discretion and behave accordingly. Not every detail of your life is worthy for public consumption.

Play systems. I had never heard that phrase before. When I was young we called them swing sets, jungle gyms and forts. Swing sets were what you might have in your own backyard. Jungle gyms were only found in public parks or on the school playgrounds. Forts were what we built ourselves. Ah, but that was back in the Stone Age when the earth was young and fire was new. Today, play systems are what every child must have - in the backyard.

My kids had a swing set. One of those under-$100 cheap things that took too long to construct and far less time to destroy. The kids used it until it gave out. I think it gave out. Maybe they gave out first. I’m not sure. I’m so old I forget.

But my grand-kids - an entirely different story! My grand-kids shall have a PLAY SYSTEM.

A foolish expense you say? Well, let’s take a closer look.

First, a word about assets versus liabilities. An asset has value that exceeds the investment. A liability is something of diminishing value. A play system for my grand-kids will be an asset. The value of having my grand-kids playing in my yard far exceeds the substantial investment required of a play system.

Besides, I plan to spend countless hours in the fort dreaming of being something I’m not. And watching clouds to see what animals I can find floating in the sky. My wife and I will likely spend many breathless moments using that slide, too. The laughter of my grandchildren will only be overshadowed by my own heavy breathing as I climb the rope ladder.

Second, my house needs to be a place where my grand-kids are excited, entertained, educated, thrilled and dazzled. Why not? I remember dreading to go see “old folks” who had nothing to play with, nothing to do, no bikes to rides, no nothing! Not at my house. My house is going to be the larger than life play station - literally.

Third, their parents can deal with all the negatives. That’s not my job. If they are spoiled, like most grandchildren, that’s not my problem. If they are left with an unreal sense of expectation - again, not my problem. If they suffer from the need to be constantly entertained (like their parents) - not my problem.

These little creatures are going to be their parents’ problem, not mine. I’m the clown in the circus. I entertain. I enjoy the laughter and good times. When the circus is over the kids go home. Life shall always be good under my big top! My house and their house is like Vegas. What happens there, stays there.

So there you have it. I’m rolling quarters as we speak. These things aren’t cheap! Not if you get a good one. Shall I invest in a cheap play system? Not on your life. My grandchildren will not be relegated to play on a cheap swing set like their parents did. Look at how they were permanently damaged by having to play on a cheap swing set because it’s all dad could afford.

A Rainbow Play System is in my future. These are quite elaborate. You can add onto them. They can be as large as your entire backyard if you like. You can have climbing walls, rope ladders, forts, slides, swings and more.

Monkey bars and jungle gyms? I scoff at such petty entertainment. These are not SYSTEMS. I shall have a play SYSTEM. Let that sink in and tell me you’re not jealous!

My grandchildren shall love coming to my house to play on the play system, swim in pool, watch the HDTV and play with the dogs. Perhaps there’s also a Wii in my future. Imagine that?

Most people buy their shirts - dress or otherwise - off the shelf. We rifle through stacks in search of our neck and sleeve size. Mine is 16.5″ and 35″. Then, we have to hope - unless we’re buying a brand and model that we’ve purchased before - that the neck isn’t too tight. Loosing the ability to speak while you wear a necktie is solid sign that your collar is too tight. And there’s also the possibility that your collar will be loose fitting making you appear like a turtle sticking his head out of his shell.

Two problems have plagued me forever. One is the neck. The other is the wrist. I have some shirts that will absolutely not allow me to wear a watch. And many other shirts will only allow me to wear the slimmest of watches (thankfully, I own a couple of razor thin watches, but they’re not my favorites). A third, but much less frequent problem, is sleeve length being too short. No doubt due to my big guns.

Some years ago I stumbled onto bestcustomshirt.com, an outfit run by Janine Giorgenti. This is NOT a paid (or compensated in any way) endorsement. I’ve purchased only a handful of shirts from Ms. Giorgenti. But the comfort and fit is superior to many shirts costing more. I’ve purchased and worn many brands of dress shirts. But none are as comfortable and dressy as those purchased at bestcustomshirt.com.

Beside the aforementioned issues I have some other preferences. Collars bug me more than anything. The various styles of collars today drive me crazy. Is there nothing uglier than those wide-spread collars? I see them everywhere and I’ve yet to see a single wide-spread collared shirt that looks good. It’s the crappiest look out there in dress shirts. And invariably it’s worn by a guy with a knot in his tie that’s bigger than his head. This picture is as good as a wide-spread collared shirt will ever look - probably because nobody is wearing it.

Don Cherry - famous hockey broadcaster (he used to coach) for Hockey Night in Canada - loves to wear really high collars with that narrow spread tab collar. I’m not much of a fan of that any more than I am the wide-spread collar, but Cherry pulls it off. It’s just his trademark look. That and wild looking suits like the one below.

Now THAT is a good looking Easter outfit, eh?

In dress shirts - shirts worn with a tie - I prefer traditional straight collars. Avoid button down collars when you’re wearing a tie or you’ll always look like Andy Rooney. I think it’s a horrible look. I also prefer a single button cuff. I do own some shirts with French cuffs, but I always feel pretentious wearing them. I can hear people mumble, “Well, look at you!” And I’m self-conscious about the cuff links, too. I also prefer a single pocket or no pocket. People shouldn’t put anything in the shirt pocket of a dress shirt. Pens can go in the inside coat pocket.

What I love about the Giorgenti shirts is the measurements that are considered in making the shirts specific to your build. Yes, this includes your wrist measurement. And she builds in extra for shrinkage. We’ve all purchased shirts that fit perfectly when we first wore them, but after a trip or two to the cleaners - the neck is too tight and sleeves suddenly need constant tugging. Not so with Giorgenti custom made shirts.

Priced from $45 to $165 these shirts are not economy shirts, but when compared to mid or upper end dress shirts - they’re a solid value. Given how much we spend these days on ties (when was the last time you bought a quality tie for less than $40?) it makes sense to spend money on quality shirts that last and last and last. And fit you well throughout their lifetime.

I’d give attribution to this photo, but I don’t know where it came from. It was sent to me and I thought it was genius. I like simple, creative street art. This is as simple and as creative as it can get. Proof that genius need not be complicated. You just have to see things other people don’t.

I admit it. I didn’t learn how to study in school. At least not until I got to college. I was a good student though. Mostly because I could pay attention and take great notes. Falling behind in reading was a common problem. Procras-
tination was also a curse that skulked me everywhere I went.

Incoming freshmen were offered free courses in study habits. I enrolled and went through it - twice. I failed out the first time. No grades were given and the course was completely voluntary - making my failure all the more lamentable. And embarrassing. It was, ironically enough, the one class that challenged my attention span and note-taking abilities. So I went through it again, blaming the first instructor for my failure. Turns out I was right. It went much better the second go round. The second instructor was clearly superior.

Budget your time. Right! Like I’m going to fill in those little blocks and pre-think everything I do each day. Not going to happen. Good idea, I had to admit, but impractical. Then I began to see kids all over campus refer to these little lists and schedules. Idiots. I kept mine in my head. Until I forgot all about an exam and showed up with not a shred of preparation. Wait a minute! This can’t happen. I pay close attention. I take good notes. I also skip classes every now and then. Turns out I had missed the prior class when the professor informed us a test would be forthcoming. For me, vomit was the only thing forthcoming.

I was an engineering student until I ran into a roadblock named Calculus. I fancied myself able to defeat any opponent. Not Calculus. Calculus was my Kryptonite. It slew me. Twice. But then the clouds parted. The sun began to shine. I left the School of Engineering, after a faculty advisor told me not to make such a foolish choice. “There’s no money in journalism,” he told me. I thanked him and skipped joyfully toward the School of Journalism, which readily accepted people with minimal math skills. Maybe journalism needs mathematically challenged people since there’s no money in it anyway. No matter, my academic career took off. I was back in my familiar place. I was again, a good student earning top grades.

Somewhere along the way I did learn how to study things that were of limited interest. It’s easy to study things you’re into. It’s all that other crap that drives us batty looking for the nearest cliff. “Why do I need to know this?” is the lamentation of all students. I’m old now and I know the real answer. Because the rest of us had to endure it. Now you need to suck it up and endure it like we did.

Really, the lesson is learning how to learn. At least I think that’s the point. It sounds much better than anything else.

As a college freshman I learned that setting priorities, taking care of business and preparation are the keys to successful study habits. Study skills involve scheduling time to handle the various chores of each class in a timely way so you don’t fall behind. And so you’re always prepared. I know it works, even if I failed to work it very much until I had about 45 hours of credit. It’s been useful to me in many other endeavors, too.

Life happened. I began to forget many things I had learned. Algebra, geometry, rules of English, Latin - they’re all a distant memory now. A wasted education perhaps. But those things that comprise good study skills are still vividly in my mind. I suspect having to go through it twice helped.

Today - this week, this month, this year - I find myself needing the skills I was taught in those study skills classes. I need a schedule. I need to stick to that schedule. Time is now my enemy. I’m certain that I have more days in my past than in my future. It’s a haunting thought, but realistic. Making better use of my time has got to be a bigger priority for me than ever before.

That’s the rub when it comes to study skills. Budget your time wisely and use your time wisely. Let nothing distract you from what needs to be done. Prepare yourself.

Today, I don’t need those skills for college courses. I need them for just about every other facet of my life though.

Decisions are made from choices. We select from among a variety of choices and carve out our way. Sometimes we make decisions based on greater wisdom. Sometimes we’re impulsive and foolish. Choices aren’t always clear and easy though.

Some things aren’t matters of choice. Recently in Dallas an 18-wheeler flipped over and fell from an overpass onto an unsuspecting car traveling below. The car was driven by a college student headed to work in downtown Dallas. She was a waitress for a local establishment. It’s highly likely she never knew what happened. Probably a good thing. Was her fate determined by her choice? No, but I might argue that somebody did make a choice that determined her death.

Perhaps the truck was overloaded. It was speculated that the load shifted. Perhaps the driver was traveling too fast. Police seemed to think he took the turn at an unsafe rate of speed given his load. Perhaps the driver was inexperienced and an employer made the choice to put him behind the wheel too soon. Somebody made a choice that was costly to the young coed.

Other times bad things happen that don’t seem to be the result of choice. A young baby is diagnosed with cancer. Nobody did anything. Nobody made a poor choice resulting in that outcome. Bad things sometimes happen. But the man who has smoked for 40 years must not be shocked at his diagnosis of lung cancer. His outcome is the result of continuing poor choices to smoke.

Control what you can by making the wisest choices possible - because the crap is going to hit the fan of your life at some point. And you’ll be faced with yet more choices. Choices in how to respond or react. Do you run away and hide? Do you stand and fight? Do you outflank? Do you summons help? What do you do with the choices you face?

Two thoughts come to mind: short-term or long-term. Does the choice have only an immediate impact or does it have a longer term impact? The choice to drive through a fast food drive through seems to be a short-term choice. I’m hungry. Here’s a McDonald’s. I’m going to stop and get something to eat. Short term choice, right?

Yes and no. Choosing to eat fast food can have long term consequences for your health. It happens one bite at a time. It’s hard to think long term when you’re hungry though.

It’s hard to think long term no matter the circumstances. Now is what we care most about. We’ll worry about tomorrow tomorrow. Or never. Put it off. Avoid thinking about it. Just go with what you want right now. Make the immediate choice based on emotion and desire. Let the rest slide.

For that reason obesity rates continue to rise. Consumer debt, pollution, stress and rage continue on the upswing. Short term thinking drives us all to just handle up on what is right in front of us - never stopping to consider that this choice, the one before us, may have serious consequences for us down the road.

So, we live in the moment and get hacked off that tomorrow is no better than today. We make poor choices and grow increasingly frustrated that the outcome never improves. We pine away the days thinking we’re unlucky. And our favorite phrase becomes, “If only ________.”

Recently I’ve come across a number of examples where people took a specified period of time (I’m using one year) to learn something new. One man had always wanted to learn to play a musical instrument. He made up his mind and set aside some time to finally learn. Another man talked of wanting to learn a new language. So he enrolled in an ongoing education course at a local community college to learn Spanish. Last night, while watching Real Sports on HBO I saw Lenny Dykstra (retired major league baseball player) remark about taking a year to learn investing. Prompted by a loss of $1.6M at the hands of his broker, Lenny vowed it would never happen to him again. So, his quest was to learn all he could about investing. According to the story - he’s been quite successful, too.

There are countless stories of people who have begun a quest to learn something new. I suspect many (maybe even most) quit too soon. Seth Godin claims many people don’t properly navigate the dip, the challenges that have to be endured to reach the other side - where success is found. I suspect he’s right.

I’m a speed-freak. Not amphetamines, time! I believe some things take time, but I also believe many things can be done or improved in a short period of time. People often fail to consider how quickly change or improvement can happen. I find speed invigorating. I find it difficult to get too passionate about goals that seem so far away. “Let’s work hard to increase sales over the next 12 months.” How about we work hard to increase them today? That’s the element of speed that appeals to me. The call to action. The need to do something effective right now - not tomorrow.

At heart, I’m like most - a procrastinator. Odd. Paradoxical even. But not really. In fact, it may explain why I love speed. It forces a procrastinator like me to get on with it. Giving me no chance to regress or hide. It forces passion to the surface. It heightens energy. It’s engaging and forceful.

What could you learn in one year? What would you learn, if you could devote yourself entirely to it, for a single year?

The learning curve is steep whenever we’re attempting to learn something new. Lenny Dykstra talked of subscribing to every single investment newsletter he could. Since he hates to read he got as many as he could in CD or DVD format. He devoted himself to learning about Wall Street, stocks and investing. He viewed it as challenging as the competition he once faced on the ball field. He was serious about it. I don’t know what kind of schedule he kept, but based on the reported success (and Jim Cramer’s endorsement that Lenny does indeed know his stuff), I suspect he spent many hours learning about things previously foreign to him. He evidently didn’t start the process and quit too soon. He finished what he set out to accomplish, and it appears his quest continues. He’s not done yet.

Maybe that’s a key. Maybe it’s erroneous to consider taking a specific period of time to learn something - thinking you’ll be accomplished and then you can stop. I recently bought a guitar because I want to be a rock star. Well, actually I bought it so I could fire up some new areas of my brain by learning to play a musical instrument. Mental health (and fun / frustration) was the real objective. It’s hard. It’s taxing. It’s not fun. I find it hard to keep going, but slowly I’m trying. Daily I struggle with it though. Some days I don’t pick up the guitar. Some days I just leave it in the case and blow it off. No benefit gained. The learning curve seemingly too steep! Then I must remind myself that if an acid-crazed junkie can do it in front an audience, then surely a middle-aged sober man can learn some meaningful chords.

I’m not trying to be Leo Kottke or Mark Knopfler. I just want to be able to play a few John Prine or Jackson Browne songs. I do understand it’s a work in progress, but seeing progress ain’t so easy sometimes. And therein lies another challenge - it’s hard to learn something or make positive change when you find it difficult to see any improvement.

The dieter loses the will after a week because they see no difference in the mirror or the scales. A lifetime of poor eating habits isn’t overcome with one week of reasonable eating. But we’re wired to want it now. We want to see progress. And if progress takes too long more often than not, we’ll say, “Forget it.” The dip sinks us and we never make it to yonder shore where success is found.

Back to our hypothetical - what IF you did take an entire year off work or other responsibilities and you could devote yourself to one pursuit? What would you pursue?

Some, like Lenny, would pursue things that would profit them financially. I suspect there are lots of us who would enjoy that pursuit.

Some might pursue an art - learning music, or a craft. Maybe even trek to Santa Fe and join the artsy folks who crank out jewelry, pottery, sculpture, paintings, drawings or other forms of fine artistry.

Some might pursue writing - poetry, screenwriting, a play, a novel, a biography, or just a series of magazine articles.

Some might pursue the launch of a dream company. They might use the year to fan the flames of their inner entrepreneur.

Others might pursue relationships. Maybe they’d use the year to learn how to better their marriage or their ability to parent.

Still others might pursue spiritual quests by taking the time to learn how to be more devout in their faith.

A year. 365 days. 52 weeks. It’s not really a long, long time. So much can happen in a year. So much can be accomplished in a year. So often a year passes and nothing changes. No improvements are made. No resolutions finished.

No matter. A year never requires a January 1st starting time. Your year could start today, right now. It doesn’t matter if it’s March 11th or any other date. That can be day one of your year quest. And it doesn’t even have to be a year. Maybe it’s an hour, a day or a week. Could you benefit from learning something new in an hour, a day or a week? Sure. We all could.

If I had an hour with a great guitar teacher I’ll bet I could learn more than I could in months on my own. If I had an entire day, or a week - all the better. And all the faster the accelerated learning. Whether it’s playing guitar, learning how to invest or any other pursuit which fails us because of our own ignorance - all that’s required is an investment in time directed with some attention and focus to that pursuit.

But alas, life happens. We’re busy people. We have errands to run, time clocks to punch, bosses to appease, spouses to please, kids to wrangle, phones to answer, emails to answer, websites to surf - who has time to improve? Who has time to learn? We’re busy living. Often times busy wishing our lives were better, but never taking the proper time to invest in making our lives better.

Robert Louis Stevenson wrote, “To be what we are, and to become what we are capable of becoming is the only end of life.”

Beaver Lake is in northern Arkansas near Eureka Springs. The landscape is quite different than north central Texas. That’s the main reason we took a trip there recently. A change of scenery. The Ozark Mountains are a geographical challenge for driving and house building, but they offer spectacular views around Beaver Lake.

A light snow arrived on our first full day at the cabin. Just enough to provide a nice white blanket. And enough to cause the squirrels to raid the bird feeder on the deck. I refilled it so the birds could get their fair share.

By the next day the sun was shining, the snow was melting and the temperatures were above freezing. Squirrels, birds and deer were all out snacking as though they hadn’t eaten in months. No doubt they were fearful their stomachs would be empty should the snow return. So they were filling up while the sun was shining.

We did our fair share of eating, too. Hart’s grocery store in Eureka Springs was our bird feeder supplying us with Diet Dr. Pepper, Coke Zero, frozen pizzas, frozen egg rolls, cheese, eggs, bread and various other snackables. Egg sandwiches and lots of laying around. People avoidance was the object of the trip. When you’re at the dead end of CR120 in northern Arkansas - mission accomplished. Just watch for deer darting across the road.

This is the view as we pulled up to our cabin. You can see why leaving is hard. Bring your food and just stay awhile. No need to go into town. DirecTV, wireless Internet, flat-panel TV, big dog shower, swimming pool sized tub, king sized bed, full-blown kitchen - all the things required for you to just stay put.

Life at Beaver Lake ended and it was time to make the trek back home. I never like to make a trip without experiencing horrific weather. One year we went to Ft. Lauderdale - but I waited until we could experience a hurricane. We spent an entire day at The Pillars (our hotel) watching a horizontal rain. I enjoy the challenge of horrible weather. So, it was fitting that we waited until a blizzard was eminent to get back into the car.

By the time we got to I-40 from Fayetteville visibility was about 1/4 of a mile. It made for a very relaxing drive home. At one stretch we made 57 miles in 3 hours. The snow managed to increase what would have been a 7 hour drive into more than a 9 hour drive. By the time we got home I had a ducking headache and needed another getaway.

I’m thinking of just buying an isolation tank in lieu of our next trip. It would be reusable, quiet, plenty of solitude and more cost effective. And best yet - I could climb in it any time I wanted. I wonder how many hours you can spend in one of those contraptions before you go nuts?