Zig Ziglar and a Fork in the Road

If you’ve ever been fortunate enough to meet someone you considered a “hero” you will be able to relate to this.  This falls under the umbrella of true confessions as well as a story about meeting someone I admired. 

I have always been a tremendous Zig Ziglar fan.   His soothing drawl and self-deprecating humor paved the way for a message that was always on the spot correct.  When I became an “account executive” (read salesperson) in the eighties I submerged myself in self-help, pull-yourself-up-by-your-boot-straps-and never-give-up tapes.   I made positive reinforcement cards and taped pictures of things I wanted in life to my mirror just as Zig instructed.  I played his tapes in the car, on my cassette player in the office and in my mind as I bolstered my courage before I made a sales call.   Zig was the bomb.

Fast forward to about 2007, somewhere in that area.  I was managing eleven, twelve, thirteen or fourteen radio stations for Clear Channel, depending on what year it actually was.  I was also President of the Ohio Association of Broadcasters, and we were holding our yearly convention at a big hotel in Columbus. Our keynote speaker? You guessed it….Zig Ziglar!!

I knew I would at least get a chance to shake his hand; but knowing what a big fan I was the director of OAB had arranged for me to sit beside Zig at the head table.   It was a thoughtful thing for her to do; I was actually nervous about trying to make small talk with one of the most famous motivational speaker of all time!

Lunch time finally arrived.   I greeted Zig and we sat down at the big round table in front of the stage where I tried to engage him in conversation.   His answers were pretty well confined to yes and no.  Others at the table also worked to get Zig into an exchange of some sort.  I just remember him being polite but not at all the Zig I’d listened to for endless hours.  There was no snappy repartee…just yep and nope and an occasional head bob. 

As we labored through this less than comfortable meal I really wanted to ask for his autograph.  His reluctance to be pulled into the conversation at the table paralyzed me; I just couldn’t ask for an autograph from this guy.   I wanted the other Zig Ziglar!

Eventually it was over….the longest lunch of my life.  I had failed to engage my hero in any meaningful conversation and, as he was introduced on stage the chance to do that sailed away.  Zig stood, put his napkin on the table and turned to wave to the crowd.  As went up onto the stage he grew straighter.  By the time he reached the last step there was a bounce to his walk and a light went on inside him.   The quiet, almost morose, man with whom I had just shared an agonizingly long lunch WAS Zig Ziglar!

I sat entranced as I watched Zig pace the stage.  He laughed and gestured with the mike and his patter was mesmerizing.  This was the pro I admired, and he held the crowd in the palm of his hand as he delivered the magic of his positive message.  He was amazing….and I hadn’t even asked for his autograph.

So….and this is the true confession part…..I “liberated” his fork.  I know! I know! Thou shalt not liberate.  It isn’t something I’m proud of all these years later.  

Back in my hotel room I looked at the fork and thought about having it framed in a shadow box.  What would the caption on the brass plaque be?  “Look what I stole”?   Maybe an oak box with a red velvet interior; but that seemed awfully fancy to hold a stolen item.  The longer I looked at it the less I enjoyed the fact that I had Zig’s fork.  My career as a cutlery thief ended when I (reluctantly) dropped the fork onto my room service tray that evening as I mumbled, “Should have asked for the dumb autograph.”

I've wonder if Pinterest had been invented back then whether I might have kept the fork and done something creative with it.......

When I think about it there was, after all,  a karmic trade off in the whole thing.  Yes, I did get a fork that was used by the great Zig Ziglar, even if it was just for a little while….but now I can never pass a lie detector test.   Serves me right, doesn’t it?

                                                                    Life is Good

 

 

 

Two stepping with technology: Dancing Geek to Geek.

 

Technology seems to strum the strings of my addictive behaviors; coping with all the forms of communication we have today can be exhausting.

My grandmother had a huge cast iron stove in her kitchen when I was a little girl.  It was stoked with wood all day, every day; the big water reservoir on the side provided hot water for the household.  It also provided heat in the winter and over-heated the summers.  When someone wanted to talk they stopped by; sitting in the kitchen, hands wrapped around a big mug of coffee while a slice of pie waited to be enjoyed.   That was communication.

Today my sealed top electric range sits quietly while the microwave oven hums its cooking song.  In the winter we have forced air heat; in the summer air conditioning keeps things comfortable.   When someone wants to talk they text me, because the chances of actually catching me at home are slim.  If the text isn’t returned instantly I might get a cell phone call asking why I’m not answering my texts!  Of course there’s always email whizzing back and forth, and Facebook comments to read and post, and Pinterest followers that don’t interact at all except for the initial “he/she is following you” email.  I read the few comments that show up on my blog; the majority of which are spam.  I’ve been invited to join Houzz, Tumblr, Twitter and a few other things that I can’t figure out how to spell.  At the end of the day I’ve typed a lot and said very little…touched base with quite a few people and learned absolutely nothing. That is communication.

Sometimes I experience TMI stress. (Too Much Information)  With todays’ technology it is possible to have a simultaneous 24/7 conversation with everyone you know.   No thought is too fleeting, no event too miniscule to be put into text or on Facebook.   We seem to have lost the mental filters that existed years ago.  Or maybe I’m not coping with the fact that everyone was just waiting for the opportunity to report their every thought and event to the world

This is a common scenario for me:  I’m writing something at the computer at home or at the office when the telephone rings; picking up the receiver I sandwich it between my chin and shoulder and continue to type as I talk to the caller.  Now my cellphone dings, seems I have a text message…and a lighted bubble at the bottom of the computer screen informs me that I have a new comment on my blog.  My mind separates into neat compartments as it strives to work out who might be texting, who might be commenting, and what the person on the other end of the desk phone is saying to me as my cellphone rings.   Finally a real human being arrives to stand in the door with a questioning look,  mouthing something (I cannot read lips)  as I juggle at least four other technologies.  

I have some friends I consider to be holdouts.  They strive to keep it simple with a cell phone that is just that….no texting or email allowed.  A very few don’t have, and harbor no desire to have, a computer.  They cannot come up with a reason to own one….I cannot fathom a day without.

I’ve never been a big TV lover anyway, but my computer has officially assumed the place in my life that television occupied.  I have Netflix if I want to watch a movie or one of the old English comedies I like so much.  I’ve remained un-addicted to Dancing with the Stars, Singing like the Stars, Cooking with the Stars and Making Fun of the Fat Stars.  I would easily give up television if it came down to a choice between that and my computer.

In truth I have two laptops, two iPads a Kindle and an iPhone…obviously they are not just for communication.  I have email friends in other countries, and I subscribe to several blogs I enjoy.   It feels as if the entire world is at my fingertips with these wonderful tools.   This blog of mine is a catalog of memories and experiences I’ve enjoyed sharing with a few people, many of whom I've never met.  It, too, is addicting.  Fortunately my husband is just as fascinated with all things electronic. 

 

With all these amazing things what could the future possibly hold? I’m anticipating the invention of an implant.  Maybe a chip under the scalp that sends our thoughts to a programmed list of friends and acquaintances.  Maybe a special printer could create scripts of those thoughts; all you need to do is think about the story of your life and print a copy to share!

If the world stands and technology continues to spiral out of control, there is no telling what my great grandchildren will consider communication and entertainment.  I’m certain it will be very different from what I experienced as a child and how what we enjoy today.

What an intriguing idea.  I believe I’ll just go wrap my hands around a nice, hot cup of coffee and give that some low tech thought……………..

                                                               Life is Good

Recalculating

N

The late, great Jack Benny once said, “Mary and I have been together over forty years and I can honestly say we never even once considered divorce.  Murder….maybe.   Divorce….never.”  He delivered that line as part of a comedy routine; those of us who have been married a long time know it was only partly in jest.

The hardest thing to do is to keep a long term relationship fresh, interesting.  If you’re looking for some input on how to do just that here’s something you might try:  Buy a Garmin and go on a long road trip together.

My husband, Larry, and I recently returned from a month in Florida.  Every year he plans our trip down to the last fast-food salt packet.  All I do is pack a bathing suit and get into the car.  The only request I have is that we be on the beach; the ocean makes really great white noise and all my cares seem to melt away in the salt air.  He has never failed to find a beautiful place and plan a wonderful time away for the two of us.

Since he is so good at planning vacations you might wonder what I have to write about.  The challenge isn't in enjoying the vacation; the hang up is in the “getting to” and the “coming back from” part of the trip.   Given today’s technology one would imagine the only stressful part of car travel would be in locating enough road side rest areas……not so. 

In our case it begins before we leave the drive way.  Belted in and packed to the window tops we start out with our handy-dandy little Garmin (which I have dubbed “the talking lady”) snuggled into her bean bag on the dash board.  Her cheery “turn right” as we leave the driveway is the last instruction she will make without a return comment from my husband.   We are now embarking on an 18 hour argument with technology.  

Things are fairly peaceful while we’re still in Ohio, but once out of our borders the gloves come off.  Driving along at something loosely close to the speed limit my husband says, “Pull into the next gas station.  We need a map!”

“Why?  We have the talking lady and she knows where we’re going, doesn’t she?” I queried.  His response was a cold stare as he gestured me into the gas station lot.  He returned to the car to grumble, “Used to give these things away.  Five bucks!  A map is five bucks now!”

I longingly looked at the three hundred dollar piece of equipment sitting on the dashboard poised to take us to our first destination.  It was programmed to use the closest route, and the lady who sounds like Connie Chung was all set to give us detailed directions…but sadly I knew that’s not good enough.  Too late it crossed my mind that my husband might accept directions better if they were delivered in a male voice.  Food for thought for our next trip.

Back on the road my husband proceeded to unfold the biggest road map I’ve ever seen.   It covered the dashboard, fought for position against the windshield, enveloped his head, then pooled in the front seat floor well; a corner of it made a sharp turn at the door and dripped over the head rest to fill the back seat.  It looked like a full sized hot air balloon had deflated in the front seat of our car.   

The map moved and undulated like a living thing while Larry struggled beneath it looking for a shorter route.  The talking lady chirped “In point two miles turn right,” and the map snapped to attention.  “Don’t listen to her….don’t listen to her!  She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” my husband mumbled from deep under the road map.  Again the Garmin told me to turn, but my husband drowned her out with “no-no-no” so we rocketed straight ahead while the talking lady struggled to get her bearings.    Ten miles later his head popped out from under his map canopy and he said, “Where are we?”

“I thought that’s what you were doing?   I’m just steering the car,” I said.

“I think you missed something,” the map crinkled and crackled, “pull into this service station and let me check something out.”  For the next fifteen minutes my husband and a beefy mechanic (who bore an uncanny resemblance to Larry the Cable Guy) pointed, gestured and shook their heads as I sat watching. 

Finally he returned to the car.  ‘We’ had missed a turn while he and the talking lady were in a full blown argument; I doubled back ten miles and got us on the right road.  Eventually we arrived in Charleston, then on to Florida; after a terrific stay we made it safely home.  I knew the trip home wouldn't be boring because it required a brand new set of directions.   I hate to admit it but the whole trip down and back was taken up with arguing and ugly words…..not between the two of us but between Larry and the talking lady.  I don’t know how he takes the stress.

The next time your marriage seems to be lacking in excitement you might want to take my advice and plan a road trip.  It will very likely give the three of you hours of laughter after it’s all over….you, your spouse and the talking lady.

                Recalculating….Recalculating….Recalculating….Recalculating….Recalculating

                                                                   
                                                                                Life is Good 

On the Beach

 

A storm blows in and the birds desert the beach.

 

Another February has come and gone and, hopefully, spring is right around the corner.  We’ve just returned from a month at the beach where we soaked up sunshine and rain, seemingly in equal amounts.  February has become a favorite month.  Turns out it is when I have time to take stock and endeavor to pull my new year’s resolutions out of the ditch.  It never works, but it gives me a raft of new things at which to fail.

I must confess that I am not good when presented with open ended time.  It seems the only way I can manage to accomplish anything is when I’m under the gun.   I had planned to finish a second book (long story really) to publish on this blog….that didn’t happen.  I wanted to lose five (just five!) pounds over the month and return home triumphant.  The close proximity of fresh sea food and the accompanying butter in which to render it even tastier blew that off the map.  Another honorable goal was to walk every day…the rain made that sporadic at best.  It seems my creative nature was able to come up with an excuse for just about any positive thing I had planned for this time away.

Sitting in a rocker on the balcony that overlooked the ocean I contemplated the nature of the universe, celebrated the lovely surprise of sunrises and the colorful display of 28 sunsets.   I thought long and hard about the inevitable brevity of life…..and dozed.  How lucky I felt to enjoy the pleasure of watching the water turn from emerald green to azure blue. Sometimes it looked like cold steel before a storm; lighting crawling across the ocean is an amazing sight to behold.   

Collecting seashells from the beach and every hole in the wall shop we wandered through seemed to be the most taxing thing I had to deal with.  Suffice it to say this was a luxuriously lazy month.

Time is only wasted if you don’t enjoy what you’re doing.  Doing nothing in February is something Larry and I enjoy…and we have the credit card bills to prove it.

                                                              Life is Good