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Rocks, Hard Places and Everything In-Between (by Paul W. Smith)

 

In the opening scene of “My Favorite Martian”, the technical mojo of Caltech/JPL/NASA comes mano a mano with the ultimate objective, Martian rock One-One-Niner.  After conquering 352 million miles of space, the fictional Mars lander runs out of power just as it rolls up to its target.  As the scene wraps, the voice of Mission Control is heard rationalizing the 5 years and $3 trillion dollars that were spent.  We saw lots of nice little rocks along the way, the voice intones, so what does it matter if we came up short of the big one.  The titles roll, the camera pans upward, and a bustling Martian metropolis comes into view.

Rocks like One-One-Niner are a lot more interesting than you might think, even if you are not geologically inclined.  Rocks have been part of life, both metaphorically and concretely, for a very long time.   Clement of Alexandria wrote of a fellow named Simon, born around 1 B.C.  It seems that Simon was hanging out with a Jewish carpenter who decided to change this humble fisherman’s name to Peter.  Wisely, Simon went along with it.  The name comes from the Greek “petra”, meaning “rock”.  Simon, aka St. Peter, went on to become a legendary example of leadership and devotion. 

Since those days there have been many noteworthy rocks, including a wrestler/movie star (Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson), a movie about a prison (“The Rock”, starring Sean Connery and Nicholas Cage) and even a household pet.  There are numerous versions of “Rock of Ages” , including a movie (which Tom Cruise should be ashamed of), and a song title for both a Christian hymn (1775 by Reverend Augustus Toplady) and a rock and roll song (1983 by Def Leppard).  Without rock there would be no rock and roll, and Freddie Mercury would have nothing to do to you. 

5 Things Everybody's Looking For (by Paul W. Smith)

My 5-month old granddaughter has reminded me of more essential truths about life than I have room for here.  Like all humans, she has certain basic needs.  She also has a very limited set of communications skills.  When she is not crying, it is safe to assume that she has everything she is looking for.  When she screams, it is due to one of the following: 1) hunger, 2) a dirty diaper, 3) illness, 4) sleepiness or 5) insecurity.  As she gets a little older, we hope to eliminate number 2.

I’ve observed over the years that everyone has unique needs that seem to determine how he or she behaves. Some are pleased just to get their 8 glasses of water each day, while others of us need chocolate and red wine.  Some people need to be socializing all of the time, while there are those of us who are perfectly satisfied with a quiet night and a good book.  Some people always seek control, while others go with the flow.   There are those who are satisfied just to make it to another day, while some sense that there must be more.

Sweet dreams are made of this

Who am I to disagree?

I travel the world and the seven seas

Everybody's looking for something*

Long before Annie Lennox and Dave Stewart made this musical observation, American psychologist Abraham Maslow published his trademark “Hierarchy of Needs.”  For Abe, the psychoanalysis du jour began with the assumption that everyone is basically two pounds of symptoms in a one-pound bag.  Maslow believed that people aren’t just mindlessly responding to various inputs, but are truly seeking something greater.  Healthy humans, he observed, will instinctively prioritize five basic categories of needs in a pyramid of goals, starting with the physiological essentials and building toward the pinnacle of the sublime. 

If you never have to deal with human beings in or out of the workplace, you can stop reading here.

Your Future is Not What You Think (by Paul W. Smith)

Time is one of those things that is always on everyone’s mind.  We never have enough, we fret about wasting it, it passes slowly when we are bored and flies when we are enjoying ourselves, and we have no idea when ours will eventually run out.  We talk a lot about making time, which is absurd when you think about it.  Einstein bundled it into space-time and secured his place in history by writing equations that everyone admires, but no one understands. 

Time comes in three varieties, each with its own unique persona.  The past plagues us, giving birth to things like regret, and rarely teaches us as much as it should.  Historians make their living recording and observing the past, while time passes slowly for those compelled to study it.  Dwelling there excessively can lead to expensive 50-minute consultations with a trained professional.

 The present barely exists at all; it is a brief flicker dividing past and future, both of which are infinite and unique.  It is like the limits we struggled with in freshmen calculus - a threshold where past collapses into future until there is nothing to separate them.  People who make their living motivating others exhort the benefits of living here; there is seductive power in a “now” that sells over 3 million copies. 

 The future torments us in its own cruel way, inflicting worry and anxiety over stuff we cannot control or predict.  The earth will turn, the sun will rise, and Monday will give way to Tuesday.  God only knows what will happen in the meantime, and He’s not telling.

 The ability to see the future is a persistent theme in the movies.  In It Happened Tomorrow (1944), a young newspaperman comes across a magical source of the next day’s edition.  He is giddy with excitement over the limitless potential of his newfound discovery, until one day he turns to the obituaries and finds his own name.  Seeing the future is risky when we feel powerless to change it.

In Search of the Next Big Bang (by Paul W. Smith)

I am a nerd.  As evidence of my nerdiness, I submit that my childhood Christmas list included, over a span of several years, sets of the erector, microscope and chemistry variety.  My chemistry set (an exact copy of which is depicted above) featured a “CAUTION” on the front which provided my skeptical, non-scientifically inclined parents with a false sense of relief.  It said, in so many words, that as long as I didn’t eat anything that was in the box, I would be safe. 

I quickly became bored mixing solutions that magically fizzed or changed color, moving on to more heart pounding pursuits.  A thick mail order catalog and the money I saved from mowing the neighbors’ lawns were all I needed to obtain the ingredients for homebrew explosives, rocket fuel, and assorted fireworks.  While my peers were preoccupied with sports and girls, I was in search of the next big bang.  Somehow, I emerged from this phase of my life with my arm hair, my eyesight, and all my digits intact.

In the end, the erector set was the one that ignited my passion and led me to a career in mechanical engineering.  Although I didn’t ultimately pursue chemistry, I respect the fact that it remains a touchstone of our lives. 

Some Things You'll Never Know (by Paul W. Smith)

 

The story below has stormed around the Internet for the past several years.  I received it recently, along with a warning that bad luck would ensue if I didn’t share it.  These days, I can’t afford to take any chances:

“His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer. One day, while trying to make a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog.  He dropped his tools and ran to the bog. There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself.  Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a slow and terrifying death.  The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman's sparse surroundings.  An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Fleming had saved.

'I want to repay you,' said the nobleman.  'You saved my son's life.' 

'No, I can't accept payment for what I did,' the Scottish farmer replied waving off the offer.

At that moment, the farmer's own son came to the door of the family hovel. 

Who Do You Think You Are? (by Paul W. Smith)

Before you criticize someone, or so the saying goes, you should take a look in the mirror.  My problem is this; I’ve seen that guy a lot, and I’m sure I would have no trouble picking him out in a crowd.  There is a very strong temptation to just say “so what” and stop here.  Through the years I have learned that when things seem ridiculously simple, I must be missing something.

My late father was a college professor; he taught radio and TV announcing, some sort of speaking class for actors, and that perennial favorite “Beginning Public Speaking”.  Because of this, it was inevitable that at some point in my education, I would be obligated to take a much-dreaded speech class. 

 My personal journey from being terrified speaking in front of groups to genuinely loving it is a topic for another time.   Suffice it to say that my epiphany in “Speech for Dummies” was the video that the instructor recorded of each of us during our first presentation to the class.  Everything I had always known to be true about my public “face” was suddenly all wrong.

The Monkey in My Garden (by Paul W. Smith)

There are lots of wonderful things about having kids.  One of the less profound is that you can spend an afternoon at the zoo without guilt or condemnation.  I have always loved zoos, and one of my all-time favorites is the one in Santa Barbara, California.  The SB Zoo is nowhere near the largest, nor does it have the most exotic animals.  I like it for the surprise ocean views, and for their collection of my two favorites, the monkeys and the pigs. 

I love watching the monkeys play and laughing at just how human-like their mannerisms appear (or vice versa).  As for the pigs, I am still working that one out with my therapist. 

We humans have an interesting relationship with the monkeys; our language is filled with references to their behavior.  If you are not taking things seriously, then people will accuse you of “monkeying around”.  A “monkey on your back” is a very burdensome thing that you are carrying around, often an addiction of some kind.  Every now and then, someone totally messes things up, throwing a “monkey wrench” into the process (in all fairness, the real monkey wrench is actually named after its alleged inventor, Charles Moncky). 

There is yet another monkey allusion that I have wrestled with throughout my life; it is familiar to anyone who has spent time at the monkey exhibit.  It plagues me whenever a life-changing event pops up.  It keeps me awake when an important decision weighs in.  It sometimes strikes with random, reckless abandon.  My tormentor goes by the name “Monkey Mind.” 

The Happy Entrepreneur (by Paul W. Smith)

I’ve asked myself the following question literally hundreds of times.  There are stacks of books with entrepreneurial stories, books about the life of Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Larry Ellison, et al.  We know these guys are driven, talented, obsessed, ruthless, workaholic and a little bit lucky (see, e.g., How to Spot an Entrepreneur).  We envy them and even try to model our lives after them, but why?  What makes them happy?

A passion for the pinnacle of money, power and prestige could be a good answer, but surely these high achievers know that someone always comes along to nudge you off the platform.  Consider Bill Gates; in an astonishing display of fiscal virility, he rented the entire Hawaiian island of Lanai for his wedding to Melinda.  One would assume this was a happy occasion, as they are still husband and wife after 18 years.  Bill set a new standard for opulence, until billionaire Larry Ellison came along and bought Lanai outright.  Larry has not been forthcoming about his intentions for the purchase (to date, he has been married and divorced four times). 

It is worthwhile to remember that “happiness” is much more than a new-age, feel-good buzzword sparring with “balanced”, “centered” and “good karma” in the titles of bestsellers and self-improvement workshops.  America’s founders trusted Thomas Jefferson with drafting the first version of the Declaration of Independence, and his second sentence is one of the most elegant and profound ever written.  There is more to this journey than just life and liberty from British rule, Jefferson wrote.  It is also about pursuing happiness. 

Although this happiness thing is in our mission statement, it has proven elusive.  In 1988, Bobby McFerrin promoted a two step process, the first of which was “Don’t worry.”  Whether or not it worked, it made Bobby a lot of money.  History is unclear on how happy he was.

The Force that through the Green Fuse Drives the Economy (by Paul W. Smith)

It would be easy to read the title and think to yourself that it’s all about money.  Not only is money green, but to see it as the driver of our economy would be logical, natural and straightforward.  It would also be wrong.

The Irish poet Dylan Thomas wrote The Force that through the Green Fuse Drives the Flower, a personal favorite and the inspiration for that enigmatic title.  As a rule, I am not a huge poetry fan.   A college friend who was an English major once tried to convince me that Mary’s little lamb was a metaphor for chastity.  My relationship with poetry was changed forever.  I like Thomas’s work because although it is considered by experts to be quite difficult, it can also be read and enjoyed at a casual level.

From the back row of Poetry 1A where I sit, Thomas portrays the cycle of creation and destruction as if they are one and the same, while conveying a strong sense of the inescapable flow of time.  The great economists of the past century (e.g. Joseph Schumpeter, Capitalism, Socialism and Democracy) have described capitalism in a similar fashion, giving birth to the phrase “creative destruction.”  Further exploration of this comparison is left to those students who are moving on to Poetry 1B.

The real economic force at work here is not venture capital, but another element often associated with the color green.  It courses through the arteries of our lives, fueling our desires and driving our choices.  Without our awareness, it seizes control and dictates our path.  It taunts and frustrates us, interrupts our sleep, and wrecks our relationships.  It creates in us a momentary feeling of comfort, and then quickly destroys it.  We are surrounded by examples.

How to Shoot Anything (by Paul W. Smith)

If you arrived at this sentence by means of Google, you are probably either a photographer or a member of the National Rifle Association.  You might even be a golfer looking to improve your game.  No matter where your interests lie, there is a very good chance you either have a career, or you will have one at some point in your life. 

 Back when I graduated from high school, my classmates and I had a simple choice to make.  You could either go to college, or accept your Uncle Sam’s offer for an all-expense paid trip to the Far East.  The package featured accommodations at an all-inclusive resort along with the opportunity to meet interesting new people from a very different culture, and shoot them.  I chose college.

 Along with the choice of college came another decision - what to major in?  At my high school, everyone was required to take the Kuder Occupational Interest Survey.  The scores from this questionnaire were aimed at helping you judge what you really wanted to be when you grew up.  Our senior assignment was to locate and interview a practicing professional in one of our three top scoring categories. 

 My leading professions were Engineer, Physician and Rodeo Clown.  My parents were convinced that I hadn’t taken the test seriously, and since I didn’t know any Rodeo Clowns anyway, I went with Engineer.  My uncle was a Chemical Engineer, and we cruised through the interview.  After a brief flirtation with a pre-med curriculum in my freshman year, I was on my way to becoming a Mechanical Engineer.