Groundhog day
I sent this by mistake one day fairly recently. It was a Saturday afternoon, likely January 7 if that was the Saturday. Anyway, I sent two posts that day. In doing so I broke a contract with y’all (one post per day very few calls to action) by sending a second post. I also pissed myself off. It was a good post and Saturday afternoon is not an optimal time for me to be sending stuff.
So, to celebrate groundhog day, I’m putting that post from early January out again with the added ironic observation that while delivering a post celebrating accuracy, I was clumsy and made a mistake, a critical error really. I left out an essential detail in my ending process. I forgot to check the box that states: Schedule to send this post later?
Yup.
So, here it is, an encore posting, though not starring Bill Murray, this is the Groundhog Day broadcast of:
putting away firehose
with a different type of hoser
My father was a hoser, not in the Canadian sense, but in more of a professional capacity. No, he did not work in irrigation, nor for the waterworks. He was neither farmer nor plumber, nor hoser roller coaster tester,1
My father ran into burning buildings for a living. When he did this, he likely held a hose. His job? Make the burney parts wet. Find the fire-bits and put water on them.
Efficiency was important. Efficiency came from long endings. Long endings were important for quick beginnings. Does this make sense yet? Naw, I didn’t think so. Let me explain.
Firefighters on a call, treat every time they leave the station as a possible emergency. Frequently enough, it is. When things are urgent, the gear needs to come off the truck quickly, without a snag and ready to work. Immediately. It is often a matter of life or death.
To get the hose off quickly, they had to spend a lot of time tending to the hose, draining the hose and putting the hose in it’s perfect place. If I were a firefighter, I’d call it either the hose hole or hose heaven. The fact that I have such meanderings of the mind likely gives you a fair idea why I didn’t follow my father.
Anyway… The hose goes onto the truck slowly, meticulously and with a high degree of care. I think this speaks to an often overlooked part of being a hero. It’s heroic to have the shit you need when you need it.
Now, some have the power to MacGyver everything. They can repair a warp drive with a bit of gum, some tinfoil and a paperclip. But for the rest of us fools? We need to know where our shit is.
What works like hose on a firetruck in your life? You know, metaphorically - what can you count on, to be there, ready, easy and you know what to do with it?
Or who is the well put away firehose in your life?
Where is your shit super together?
Where do you lose your shit?
Or,
Where does it hang up when you need it urgently?
Where do you hang up when you urgently need to be present?
So.
If you’re struggling these days, what’s not coming off the truck well?
How can you get more done by taking a good long time to finish? Where could you benefit from putting your hose away properly?
I’m devoting 2023 to finding and registering the Remarkable Fools of the world. For Remarkable Fools, what was once an embarrassing or awkward, is now a thrilling leap to a life more fulfilling. How will we find the fools? A series of pop up live talk shows where the audience are also the guests. Highly interactive and playful, you’ll laugh till you cry or cry till you laugh.
Brilliant! My husband is my hell hose and heaven hose with a real hose that I work on with your father’s kinda dedication.
"I was clumsy and made a mistake."
That self-talk is worthy of comment.
Buttons and boxes. In my mind, I am saying this as the Grinch says, "...boxes and bags" when Christmas came just the same.
I miss checking or pulling them frequently. Usually, it is an action I make, but while rushing, lack the mouse or track pad precision for it to stay made. If I double check, I improve my odds of catching my imprecise movements. It's usually labeled "Visible to Student" or simply "Hidden". I have enough work in my LMS (Learning Management System) to make the most industrious student shit themselves if they saw it all at once. So, I hide the details at the start of a course and reveal them slowly after I announce them like an academic stripper for blind guys, "I'm unhooking the bra....mmm...fucking thing....struggles to pull it over her head and takes out someone's eye with a pasty." Sorry, I deviated there, the image needed to be articulated. Back to academics: in reality, it's a multi part project and I didn't open the next part of the assignment. They are expecting to see it. It isn't there. The good students, the team players, email me. Good comes from my mistake, my lack of perfection, my oversight. I get data about what it is like being with the students in a work environment. Do they not notice my boo boo? Do they notice and not let me know? Do they notice and complain? Do they notice and email me a subtle, "I can't see the assignment"? Or did they say, "The assignment isn't there"? "Where is the assignment?" Or, "This is the fourth time this semester you have failed to open an assignment as promised." No, I have never received the last one...yet.
I have learned the value of purposely being imperfect. Pissing people off let's you know who they are. The "I can't see the assignment" people. Golden. Not sure whose fault it is, but it is likely mine, and yet they assume responsibility rather than casting blame. These folks eat less crow. They have kept their words soft and sweet. They maintain relationships by speaking in a caring way. They are professional.
Mistakes aren't clumsiness. They are imprecision. This self-talk from a student would earn a one-on-one where I tell them to speak nicer to my student (themselves). Because everyone deserves kindness, especially from themselves.
Want to make fewer errors? Embrace your inner Ground Hog Day and check it again. It will reduce your clumsy mistakes and your imprecise ones.