Never Say Never...

...one of 11 principles that evolved in the career of Robert McNamara, as I learned from "The Fog of War", an Oscar-winning documentary. Not sure what prompted me to select this at our local library, but it was an enlightening two hours, especially in view of two names in today's headlines---Afghanistan and North Korea.
McNamara described the October, 1962 Cuban missile crisis, when he was involved as Secretary of Defense under JFK, and the world teetered on the brink of a nuclear confrontation. The principle emerging from that episode was "Have empathy with your enemy", referring to both Fidel Castro and Nikita Khruschev.
There was brief footage of the celebrations immediately after World War I, and a jubilant Pres. Woodrow Wilson expressing hope that it would be "the war to end all wars."
At Ford, McNamara became the first non-Ford family member to become company president, a role he held just briefly before moving to the Kennedy cabinet.
Much of the film focused on his recollecctions of Vietnam, under JFK and then Lyndon Johnson. Asked whether the principle that emerged from the Cuban crisis--"Empathy with your enemy"--helped in Vietnam, he said, with deep regret, "In the Cuban crisis, we put ourselves in the skin of the Soviets. We didn't know enough to do that in Vietnam."
Among other principles that should have application today: "Be prepared to re-examine your reasoning". "In order to do good, you may have to engage in evil" and "You can't change human nature."
It's worth watching. Tell me your reaction.

Threads

Sometimes it's best to tell stories on yourself. ..even if embarrassing.

I hang bird feeders daily on my deck. Two feeders hang on hooks attached to the house; a third is suspended from a plastic cord anchored by turnbuckles to the house at one end and a pole on the other.

This morning I hooked one feeder to the middle of the cord, and watched everything plummet to the deck as one turnbuckle tore away from its anchor on the house.

No big deal, I thought. I'll screw it back into the turnbuckle and re-attach it. I fitted the screw into the turnbuckle and turned it. It wouldn't engage. I tried again...and again. I took the screw off the other end to see if that would work.

No success. I figured the threads were stripped.

So I stopped at Ace Hardware, explained the problem and asked the manager to help.

'No problem" he said, fitting the screw into the turnbuckle immediately.

"Turnbuckles are threaded counter-clockwise." he said with a smile.

Which I would have known if I were a sailor.

Thanks, Guests

A recent breakfast helped me rediscover why being an innkeeper can be such a joy.

The weekend brought together four couples who'd never met before...and represented a wide-range of occupations, blue and white collar. I had met all eight when they checked in, but I hadn't seen any of them converse, except for a brief "hello" when I introduced them.

The next morning, I was in the kitchen starting to prepare breakfast when they emerged from their rooms, one or two at a time. They picked up coffee, immediately introduced themselves and soon the great room was buzzing with animated conversation. This isn't always the pattern, because often couples get coffee, sit by themselves and may not meet other guests until everyone is seated for breakfast.

And the table conversation was active and varied: from mining to unions to education to linguistics to politics. I believe we all left the table a bit wiser in areas in which we weren't so well-versed before breakfast.

It was my pleasure to tell them that it was occasions like this that make it so rewarding to be an innkeeper.

Formulas

A formula is what infants eat.

It's also a category of race cars.

And, thanks to a Father's Day gift from my sons--Marc in
St. Louis and Joel in Minneapolis--the three of us had a chance
to sample the latter, July 26 at Road America in Elkhart Lake, WI.

Elkhart Lake came to prominence in the early 1950s when
enterprising local leaders created the idea of road racing
through the town--then a population of about 500. The races
attracted large crowds and some of the world's leading
drivers. A few years later, a 4+ mile course was built nearby, and
it's hosted major events ever since.

Our instruction took place on a 2.1 mile course laid out inside the
larger Road America course. There was some classroom
conversation, then...out to the track in protective
driving suits (and they're warm) carrying our helmets.

The car is open-wheel, 1,100-pounds, capable of 130 mph--in effect,
a big, sleek go-kart on steroids. We were shown the brake-clutch-accelerator
relationship and sequential gearshift system...old stuff for motorcycle
riders like my sons, but not for me. We donned our helmets, sardined
ourselves into the car, fastened safety harnesses and were ready to go.

In small groups, we were told to follow an instructor in a lead car
show us the "line" through the series of turns (some, 90 degrees)
and straightaways.

While I didn't come close to challenging the car's potential speed
capability, I found that even 70 or 80 in a car with such immediate
response tends to focus your attention...quickly.

We had 90 minutes on the course, with a couple breaks.
I may have circled the course about 15 times, and could feel myself
gaining confidence with each lap. And I definitely was aware of
learning to anticipate what was ahead and positioning the car
accordingly.

The MasterCard ad says it well: The chance to share
an experience with the sons who gave me the gift...

Priceless.

Fruit Flies and Chiquita

When I was growing up--back in the last century--the moguls in the
banana industry created a spokesperson: Chiquita Banana.

They wrote a jingle...the last line of which was: "And you should
never put bananas...( long pause)... in the refrigerator."

Ever since I heard that in the 50's, I observed Chiquita's advice.
The thought of giving a banana a cool home never crossed my mind.

Until recently.

Bananas hanging on a hook to ripen are a prime target for fruit flies.
So on a recent trip to the supermarket, I asked the produce guy if he
had any bananas that didn't attract fruit flies. Somewhat startled, he said,
"Hey, just put 'em in the refrigerator."

I reminded him of Chiquita's advice. He said, not to worry. The skin may
change color a bit after a few days, but the banana isn't affected--except for being
cold and a little firmer.

I bought a bunch of bananas July 16 and parked them in the fridge. My guests
have eaten--and enjoyed--two, and the others still look good.

Sorry, Chiquita. I heeded your advice for 60+ years. You misled me.

A Lesson

In our daily lives, most of us encounter problems, troubles, inconveniences...call them what you will...big and small. In today's PC lingo, they're sometimes referred to as "challenges." As an innkeeper, I see a few...usually medical conditions that limit a guest's mobility or require special equipment in their room.

I had the privilege recently of observing a guest whose situation helped me to reflect on things that occur in my life--usually minor--that I tend to regard as "problems."

He is confined to a wheelchair and is not mobile. His vehicle, which he drives, has a ramp. With a little help from his wife, he accessed my deck and his room and his van. They adjusted to the physical arrangements immediately.

I asked about the circumstances of his disability. It was a car-truck accident when he was 19--he's now 52--resulting in spinal cord injuries. He was a college athlete--track and swimming.

And as I observed them, I reflected on how easily I become annoyed by simple things that could/should be brushed off.

The imprint he left: a big smile, easy laugh, sense of humor, positive attitude, great flexibility and a wonderful partner. When they checked out, I thanked them for providing me a reminder to be more grateful for the life I've been given, and to look at so-called "challenges" as what they often are: undiscovered opportunities.

Thanks, M and T

Israel

Not the small, beleaguered country in the mideast.

It's the late Hawaiian singer with the impossible-to-pronounce last name:
Israel Kamakawiwo'ole.

He recorded a remarkable version of "Over the Rainbow".
I often tune to AM740 in Toronto, where they play
hits from the 40's thru the 80's in the wee hours--
midnight to maybe 5 a.m.

Again last night: I was dozing, hearing an occasional song,
but not really listening. About 3:14 a.m. I caught the
tinkle of a ukelele and then Israel's voice, moving into his unique
rendition of the song named "#1 Song of the Century" that
Judy Garland first recorded in 1938.

The phrasing, the notes he improvises, the simple backup of a uke create
memorable listening.

Google it....Over the Rainbow, Israel. See if you agree.

Finally Got One!

It seems a lot of time lately has been devoted to our feathered friends. Keeping the feeders filled, building a fly-through to (try to ) attract Cardinals and welcoming the Hummers.

OK...strangely enough, 5 minutes after I finished this blog, I wandered downstairs and--lo and behold--there was a Cardinal in the feeder. Not even the fly-through, but the feeder that's attracted Chickadees, Goldfinches and Red-Winged Blackbirds.

So I took a few photos, and...I was lucky and able to manipulate the computer. So here's the lucky Cardinal that located my feeder.

Create, Don't Fix

I built a bird feeder. A simple fly-through to attract cardinals. I'd seen one hanging around my other feeders and wanted to make it easier for him to eat. As you can see, it's already attracted a lot of business. So far the cardinal is interested, but not a customer.

For me, the project was an accomplishment. I'm not handy with tools or figuring out mechanical things. And while the feeder was roughly equivalent to building a two-foot by two-foot sandbox, at least I designed it and figured out how to suspend it, discovering turnbuckles in the process.

Fresh from that success, I decided to push my luck and repair my leaky kitchen faucet. A plumber told me that Moen provides a lifetime guarantee on their equipment. I called, they sent the necessary parts--three small rubber seals, with instructions--and I went to work. Removing the faucet itself was easy, giving me a false sense of confidence. The two old seals (14 years, original equipment) were more challenging, but I got them off.

I installed the new seals, reassembled it and turned on the water. It wasn't a leak...it was a stream. It threatened to fill one side of my triple sink. . . quickly. I toyed with it for a moment, shut off the water and moved to plan B: Call the plumber. He arrived and bailed me out.

Hence, the title: Create, Don't Fix.

Go Ahead...Toss It

Obviously that was the message on the minds of car occupants travelling near my home over the winter.

Each spring, when the snow melts, I walk a 3/10-mile stretch and pick up four months of accumulated litter. This year, it was 65 separate pieces in that short stretch: pop and beer cans, beer and whiskey bottles, empty cigarette packs, fast food sacks, six-pack cartons, paper napkins, paper towels, just plain junk etc. etc.

And that's one brief stretch, in one small township, in a tiny corner of northern Wisconsin and ignores a similar stretch on nearby--very busy--State Highway 13.

So, as we mark the 40th anniversary of Earth Day, let's bear in mind that its creator, Gaylord Nelson, characterized the task of restoring and preserving our earth as "...the toughest challenge man has ever faced..."

And how about taking a small first step by keeping a litter bag as permanent equipment in our car?

Role models and morality plays

His fans say "He's a great golfer--his personal life is his business." But...as a multi-million dollar investment for well-known companies and a role model for kids taking up the game, is that greatness still intact, still genuine? Especially as the saturation coverage of his carefully-scripted return gave way to Phil Mickelson overcoming both the competition and concern about the health of his wife and his mother.

As a kid, my life was about sports. Everything...all the time. My first job was writing sports at a daily paper in Wisconsin. Perhaps, I thought, a first step toward Sports Illustrated, then my guiding light to great sports writing. Sports gave way to the realities of life. And my years-ago passion for sports has evolved to a different level, as even SI finds it can't avoid devoting space to such topics as: loaded guns in locker rooms, ex-White House spokesmen designing apologies for wayward sports figures and various overpaid athletes sending very private photos of themselves to the world.

For me, a childhood world of sports has drifted into an uncomfortable mismash of misplaced priorities--mostly over money--like a 96-team Big Dance. Which is why the Masters was really a morality play...with the perfect ending at the final curtain.

Maybe I Blinked?

It's the battle of man vs. beast. The beast being a red squirrel. I have three bird feeders at my inn--two on the deck, one in back. They're intended for birds, not squirrels. But, of course, the squirrels discover and pursue sunflower seeds. The greys always hang around, but disappear instantly when they hear the click of any door opening. The reds, however, are a challenge. One, in particular, who--in the vernacular of the Cuban Missle Crisis--tends to go almost eyeball to eyeball with me. And we'll see who blinks.

Not satisfied with simply nibbling the seeds, he (she?) made a point of chewing and decapitating the twine that secures a string of Tibetan prayer flags near my rear entrance. OK--I can play that game. I replaced the twine with steel wire. Chew that! Yesterday, I discovered her (him?) for the third time inside the bird feeder on my deck gobbling seeds. Studying the location of the feeder I wondered--how did he get there? It's five feet above the deck and 14" from the house, with no ledge or overhang for gaining access. Apparently, climbed straight up the side of the house and leaped. Athletically impressive--for sure. One of God's lovable creatures--not.

Feedback would be welcome. Thanks...stop by again.