POP QUIZ TIME! I know it’s mean to give quizes on a monday, but I have nothing else to write about…. well, that’s not true. I just thought you’d enjoy this.
Here it is. Can you guess who this pictured person is?
Hint #1: He was in the news a lot last week.
More hints to follow if you’re struggling.
You might not be, but sometimes I am. This post is a day late because yesterday I made the 8 hour drive up to Santa Rosa (an hour or so north of San Francisco) for my beautiful cousin Kristin Harold’s wedding. It’s great to be here, but family can be a bitch.
We all have our faults, but one of mine is a tendency to be a pleaser around people I’m not very comfortable with. This includes my extended family. With the increase of mobility in our society, families tend to see less and less of each other. This blanket statement is as true of my family as any other. I see my uncle, aunt, and two cousins once a year or so. If we’re lucky, maybe twice. It’s hard to build much of a relationship with so little face time.
Anyway, we were at the rehearsal dinner last night and I found myself saying things just because I thought they would please my family. Worse, I found myself getting discouraged about my job and the things I’m doing because they didn’t meet my extended family’s definitions of what life is all about.
So today, on joebunting.com, we are going to do what we always do at the end of a long, tiring week. We are going to exclude.
Joe Bunting the schmoozing ass kisser. Get the eff out. We never liked you much anyway. Tonight I will be real. Tonight I will be me. The true thing to say might be hard, but it must be said.
Hey, kind of like that John Mayer song that all my friends hate.
Say what you need to say (x a million)
Even if your hands are shaking,
And your faith is broken.
Even as the eyes are closin’,
Do it with a heart wide open.
and we were pouring concrete. Shovel five parts sand and gravel into a tub, one part concrete, mix, add water, mix, pour, screed, and do it again. In 105 degree heat. It was hot, hard work.
We drank lots of water. So much that we ran out halfway through the day. Our rep brought us Poweraid, and we kept working. The sun felt like a ball and chain pulling our legs down. It was very hard to move nimbly.
Five parts sand and gravel into a tub, one part concrete, mix, add water, mix, pour, screed, and do it again. Sweat dripped from my forehead and burned my eyes. I couldn’t wipe it away because my hands were covered with dirt and cement. I couldn’t use my shirt because it was just as badly soiled/crusted. I ended up turning a little part of my sleeve over and craning my neck down to reach it. It kind of worked.
A half hour later, I had to take a break. I went back to work, then stopped again to settle my stomach. I sat down under a bit of shade and tried to compose myself.
There was a conflicting inner dialogue going on within me. One voice said, “Joe, you can’t throw up. You’re a leader. What if everyone else sees you and starts getting sick too? Sit in the shade (even though there’s not much of it), let your stomach settle down a bit. Just DON’T throw up!”
The other, more masochistic inner voice said, “Joe, you’re a leader. You can’t just be sitting around doing nothing. Don’t be such a baby just because your stomach hurts a little? If you need to throw up go do it while shoveling some gravel.”
I tried to walk away so no one would see, but I didn’t make it. I tried to cover it up with dirt using my hand, but my body was not taking orders well. I ended up missing the dirt and sticking me hand in the Poweraid pink bile.
After I a little bit, another leader gave me the keys to the car and said, “You should go take a break and turn up the air conditioning.” Something in me still wanted to keep working, but I didn’t have the strength to argue with him, much less my body.
The air conditioning felt good. McKenzie joined me in the car to take advantage of the cool. I shut my eyes, opening them again after 2 minutes or so. Only, the clock in the car said it had been 20. Apparently Brett had come and said something to me, but I was completely passed out.
After 45 minutes or so, I tried to get back to work, but three steps out of the car told me I wasn’t ready yet. I went back in and passed out again. It took 2 hours for me to regain some strength to get back to work. I got put in charge of light tasks like picking up trash and pouring water into the tubs for mixing cement, and then eventually, took on more strenuous jobs. I was happy that I could do anything all.
I had never thrown up because of heat exhaustion before, and I am glad I did. It’s good to know how far you can push your body. It’s good to know that you can feel like crap, and then pick yourself up and go on working. Now, I’m a little less afraid of throwing up and being sick. Now, I’m a little more confident in who I am and what I can do.
The experience was like hitting rock bottom and realizing it’s not the worst place to be, that in fact, it’s bearable.
one part concrete, mix, add water, mix, pour, screed, and do it again. After 10 hours in the sweltering heat, we finished the foundation of our house.
“I don’t even know how the last half got done,” everyone kept saying. “It was a miracle. I never thought we’d be able to do it.” We did it. Despite half of our team being teenage girls, despite 105 degree heat, and despite leaders throwing up, we finished.
Sorry guys, no posts until Thursday.
We’re going down to Mexico to help, hang out with, and learn from some people who have much less wealth than us. I’m nervous, excited, and tired from packing and staying up too late.
Anyway, I’ll tell you more about it when I get back.
Till then!
I’m taking a class at Santa Barbara City College. It’s very exciting.
Two quick things:
Now you’re updated on my violin adventures. Have a good Thursday!
What fragile creatures we are. That a basketball game, a humiliating basketball game, a blowout, but still a game, could shatter self-confidence and depress. I’ll admit it, I was depressed last night watching the Lakers curl up and die while being kicked repeatedly by the Celtics. How did this happen?
No doubt the Celtics are good, great even. They played defense. They played offense. They deserved to win. It’s just that, unless there are feelings of self-righteousness, it’s hard to watch a men get mauled like that. It’s like watching a dog in a fight get its jaw ripped off. The other dog doesn’t stop, he keeps tearing the poor animal to pieces.
It’s not a fight though. It’s a game. It’s a game.
What fragile creatures we are. Maybe it’s not a that game depresses, but that the stripping of success reveals how shallow the foundation of our happiness lies.
This is Part II to yesterday, June 16’s post.
Only to succeed, you need to fail.
Again, Seth says, “And just about any time you ask a customer to acknowledge that they were wrong, you will fail.”
Because anytime you set up a hierarchy, anytime you set yourself above people, you create the potential for a power struggle. Sometimes people bend to power willingly, doctors for instance. Other times, they put up resistance, like the woman who complained to TSA. Neither is what you want for real change.
If you want people to admit they are wrong, and if it is necessary for them to do so for their own sake, then you have to fail too.
My first few weeks at my job I made some stupid mistakes. I answered the phone wrong. I made copies wrong (you didn’t know it was possible, did you). One time, I messed up bad enough to have to have a conversation with two of my bosses.
One said, “Joe, when I was you’re age, I made every mistake in the book. Twice. I was such a clutz. It’s no big deal. We’re just trying to help you be a better part of the team.”
Now, this didn’t fix everything. I wasn’t too happy to be brought in front of the grand jury, but what he did well was to relate with me. What he said meant, “You can fail, I can fail, I do it all the time, but it’s not about that. It’s not about you, it’s not about me, it’s about the team.”
Community is a powerful thing, but community dies in power struggles. To answer the question I asked Seth yesterday, to get people to change, fail. When you fail together, community happens. When you create power structures to hide failure, community disolves.
