It's all Good. Mostly.

I stopped today at a gas station near my office. I noticed a tattered flag displayed at the center of the parking lot. Inside, I made small talk with the manager while I prepared my morning coffee. I discovered the flag was damaged in one of several tornadoes the Midwest experienced this spring.

"Do you want me to bring you a new one?" I asked, explaining I can get one free through a veteran program located near my office. I figured he had just not gotten around to changing it.

"Nah. I can do that if I want. I know I should. Probably will soon. But I didn't want to right yet."

"Oh?" I said quizzically. "Why not?"

"That one's imperfect. It reminds me of us - the people who live around here. We might be roughed up, but we still here."

He paused a moment. "It's like the flag is saying:  'It's all good. Mostly.'"

Da Vinci's dust

 reblogged from my other blog, artinanything.com

Today I visited the Da Vinci Machines Exhibition, where a selection of Leonardo Da Vinci's most influential inventions have been recreated on a small, interactive scale. I have always, like most people, been impressed by his ingenuity and artistic talent. But today I left feeling a little empty on his behalf. 

Da Vinci never knew the effect he had on mankind. In fact, many of his inventions were deemed failures by the royalty and clergy who commissioned them. He couldn't have known that our modern understanding of hydraulics is based on his theories...or that Mona Lisa's smile would continue to haunt us more than 500 years later. 

I wonder how many of us are affecting humanity in significant ways? Are you one of the millions who do what they love or feel compelled to do, without regard for fame or fortune? We can never know how our passions or skills today will take its place in history. We can only continue to follow our path, knowing it is, like Da Vinci, woven into the history of humankind.

Snuggling with the enemy

The deer and bobcat in this photo came together after a forest fire drove them from their home. It reminds me of the way humans come together during times of crisis and hardship. As a crisis responder, I've seen stranger couplings embraced in a hug, holding hands, crying together. But when life goes back to normal, we are often apathetic at best, critical and oppressive at worst. 

What could we accomplish if we maintained the collective resilience we find during times of crisis? If we provided comfort and warmth to our enemies, how long would they remain such?

Reposted from my other blog, www.artinanything.com. 

I'm a Ginger - Not a Bully

"Bullying's lifelong damage," The Week Magazine, March 11, 2013

A few days ago I was reading The Week Magazine when I came across an article about bullying. It should have caught my attention because such information is important to the anti-violence work I do. Instead my first thought when I saw this photo was, "why did they have to use a redhead as the bully?"

I am a ginger. Or a redhead, carrot top, strawberry, Pippi, Annie or any of the other clever or not-so-clever nicknames used to describe a girl with red hair.

From my experience, having red hair makes you different. I spent most of my childhood being teased for and hating my hair. Like Anne in Anne of Green Gables, I wanted to be anything but a redhead. We just tried to avoid being picked on.

Never mind that between South Park, this guy on YouTube and Tosh.O, gingers are back in the hot seat. We've been getting a bad rap since we were thought to be witches...but when did we become bullies?

Here's a few ginger bullies that come to mind:

• Scut Farcus, of course (from A Christmas Story. For the record, I don't know any of us that have yellow eyes).
• Sideshow Bob from The Simpsons (I'm creeped out by all clowns. Not just the redheaded ones.)
• The entire O'Doyle family from Billy Madison
• Yosemite Sam (sure, he's lovable in his own way, but still a bully: he shoots first and asks later)
• Sergeant Nick Brody on Homeland (the redhead betrays his country for Al-Qaeda)
• ...and the many, many comic book redheaded villians...

You get the idea. But where does this come from? Because we're known for having tempers? Because freckles make us appear more mischievous like Alfred E. Neuman from Mad Magazine? Who knows.

Redheads are a rare breed. So rare, in fact, that due to genetic mutation scientists believe that we may be extinct by the end of the century. So get out your hair dye, befriend a ginger, stop picking on them. If you have red hair, embrace it - we may be mythical in the not-too-distant future.

Be nice to us. Or I'll take your lunch money.

Goats Yelling Like Humans Pays in the Workplace

Less is more. That's my motto on many things, and it seems the Leadership Industry agrees. Recently I've read several articles and discussions about redefining the work day, task load, focus...all in the name of increased productivity.

This morning Fast Company issued an article about slacking at work as a productivity tool. I've been part of discussions about European culture: are their shorter work days and long holidays signs of laziness - or smart productivity? Working in 90-minute intervals turns out to be a prescription for maximizing productivity, The New York Times writer Tony Schwartz points out. It seems that in a post-industrialized world, many experts are guiding us to believe less is more.

But what if these adaptations don't work for your business? Businesses succeed because they are open at the convenience of their customers, not the productivity demands of employees. My agency operates a 24-hour hotline that helps victims of violence. We don't have the flexibility to lighten schedules or workload without victims being unserved. Crisis doesn't wait for productivity breaks or coincide with 90-minute work intervals.

My solution: leadership flexibility. My version of this is to allow for humor and unexpected fun. Relax if the lunchroom discussion runs longer than the lunch period. It's good for camaraderie. Encourage small talk, humor, and brief intervals of off-work conversation. 

Our staff takes frequent humor breaks. They aren't scheduled - they're as needed, which is more effective. When I hear everyone laughing momentarily, I know they will have a more productive day. These moments reset us and are a great morale boost. I even sometimes initiate these breaks, sending silly videos or jokes to begin conversation. The result is a better workplace.

Yesterday's humor came to us via yelling goats. After laughing hysterically for a few moments, the afternoon seemed much more enjoyable and productive. Click here to enjoy them as well...and see if your productivity benefits.

The hamburger coup de grace: why I shouldn't eat in public

I laugh because it is funny and unexpected, my life of going to restaurants. I whine because I've had only a handful of normal meals in almost 20 years. 

My friends are convinced I did something terrible to the food gods and a result of karma that something goes awry in roughly half my public eating experiences. Usually it's mundane and easily remedied, such as getting the wrong meal item.

Or a server suddenly breaks down over bringing me ketchup and has to be taken away in an ambulance. 

Or leaving the restaurant I find mimes blocking the path to my car.

Or a menu at my table is set on fire.

Or I'm told by Hardee's employees an hour after the restaurant opened that I'll have to come back later because they aren't done fixing their hair.

 Or my sandwich arrives inexplicably with no bread (3 times and counting. My fault, perhaps. I did say "meat and cheese only on the sandwich, please...")

Or being soaked head to waist by a rogue dish washer at a Waffle House.

Or the woman at McDonald's who asked me if I wanted a drink with the Coke I ordered. Clearly she misunderstood me, yes?  "Oh...no, I said I want a small Coke," I explain. Her angry response: "And I said, 'do you want a drink with that?!'"

And then there's the sourdough burger at Jack in the Box. Sometime around 1999 I started counting how often my burger had mayo even though I order it without every single time. 22 out of 26, to be exact.

The last time was a few years ago. I went inside and politely asked for a new sandwich. The employee scoffs. I assure him it is worse for me, as this is the 22nd time this has happened. A man ordering next to me listens intently. I wonder if he thinks I'm crazier for counting or for continuing to order this sandwich (both?). The employee makes a snide comment as he walks into the kitchen that is apparently too much for the patience of the man next to me.

He reaches over, grabs the burger, and throws it at the worker's head. Hamburger patty and cheese and buttery sourdough slap against the floor. I am shocked, horrified, satisfied. I smile at my warrior, basking in the victory of our hamburger coup de grace. Gone are the days of the sourdough burger. I can't go back. It will never taste better than this moment. 
 
  
The Watershed: do I give up dining out? Or continue to sacrifice myself to the food tantrum gods so that I have great stories to tell at my own expense? Maybe I'll decide after lunch. Which will be City Diner. Wish me luck. 

(Image Source)