What’s In A Word?

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Last week was particularly frustrating.  On two separate occasions someone chose to read more than I typed, and it caused friction.  While not lacking passion, I am generally a literalist.  When I write, I choose my words carefully to convey specific meaning.  I try very hard to say what I mean, and ONLY what I mean.  (Being human I sometimes fail, but I do try!)  Yet people insist on seeing “tone” or subtext in what I write—they read between the lines, see something that isn’t actually there, and somehow manage to conclude that I should be communicating “better”.

Here’s an example.  Let’s say you and I are out for a drive on roads neither of us has traveled before.  We have no knowledge of what road goes where or where we will end up.  You are driving.  You are also deaf, and my only means of communicating with you is by typing a note on my tablet and holding it up for you to read.  We come to a fork in the road and you decide to go left.  At the next stop sign (because we’re being safe) I hold up my tablet.  It says: “Why did you go left and not right?”

That is a very simple, straightforward question.  In my mind, it doesn’t need clarification.  It doesn’t need explanation.  I am simply curious as to what, if there is one, was the reason you chose to go left.  Yet there are those who would read that and SEE, somehow, “WTF?! You should have gone RIGHT back there!”

I don’t understand.  Nor do I feel I should have to disclaim statements and inquiries, to wit: “By asking the following question I want you to know that I am in no way critical of your choice to turn left at that fork back there, nor do I think we should have gone the other way.  I am merely curious: Why did you go left and not right?”

Isn’t that ridiculous?  Isn’t that a waste of time both to write and to read?  And yet, I feel that if I don’t start doing that, I’m just in for more of the same.

The Tweet Of God

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This past weekend I went to church for the first time in a long time.  Lent is soon upon us, and our priest had some suggestions in the way of Lenten observance.

There seems to be a “push” on the part of the Catholic Church to evangelize more.  Evangelization/Proselytization has never been anywhere on my to-do list because for me such behavior is in direct conflict with the Golden Rule, which I attempt to hold above all others: Do Unto Others That Which You Would Have Others Do Unto You.  I don’t want people walking up to me unsolicited and trying to “sell” me anything, be it their faith or a vacuum cleaner or a condo in Las Vegas; so I don’t go around telling people what I believe, let alone telling them why they ought to believe it too!  Now if someone comes up to me and ASKS me about my Faith and wants to have a conversation, that might be different (depending on the context of the question/conversation).

But the priest floated an interesting idea that I think I can actually get behind.  He urged us to take to social media (Facebook, Twitter, etc.) and, on each of the seven Wednesdays of Lent, make a post that begins something like, “My Faith is important to me because…”.  The more I think about it, the less of a problem I have with it.  Facebook in particular is the ultimate tool of broadcast-based narcissism.  It is a bulletin board for your soul.  What you post there is there for anyone you want to to read if they choose to.  You are not “in their face.”  You are not writing on THEIR Facebook wall, after all.  It is not for anyone to judge you or refute you or even argue with you (unless you invite it), and if they do you can just delete their posts!  And anyone who decides they don’t like what you have to say doesn’t have to read it, even to the point of de-friending/un-following you so that they never have to see it again.

It’s perfect.

I don’t know if I’ll decide to participate, but I’m thinking about it.  It’s in interesting idea.

(PS: @TheTweetOfGod exists on Twitter.  Whoever owns it is pretty funny, if occasionally a tad irreverent.)

The Obituary of Margaret Belle McKee Romeyn

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The announcement of my great-great-grandmother’s death as published in the September 24, 1937 edition of The Essex County Republican

On Thursday, September 16th, this community was shocked and grieved at the news of the passing of one of its older and warmly loved members.  While not entirely unexpected, coming as it did at the end of several months of failing health, the rapid climax of Mrs. Romeyn’s illness was unlooked for by all but those who were closest to her.  Until the Monday preceeding her death, Mrs. Romeyn was in full possession of her faculties and able both to give pleasure to the many friends the depths of whose affection was evidenced in their devoted ministrations to her, and to derive from these contacts the pleasure of visits with loyal, devoted friends and the happy distraction of mind from thoughts and realisations that might otherwise have shadowed long days of lessened vigor.Margaret B. McKee was born at Moriah Center, N. Y. on September 5th, 1863, fourth of the nine children of Margaret Matthews and James McKee.  Much of her youth was spent with her maternal grandparents at Jay, N. Y., and in 1883 occured in Keeseville her marriage to Edmund Kingsland Romeyn, who died on March 31, 1924.  The children of this marriage are Mary Field and Margaret, respectively, Mrs. Willard H. Baber and Mrs. Rufus A. Prescott of Keeseville; the Rev. Jas. Kingsland Romeyn, Norwich, N. Y.; and Katherine and Barbara, now Mrs. Dominic C. Ashley and Mrs. Edwin H Reese of Glens Falls, N. Y.  The twelve grandchildren in these families are Mary Field and Dirk Romeyn; Eugene, Peter and Margaret Romeyn Ashley; Romeyn, Susan, Jane, Chas and John Prescott; and Barbara and Joan Reese.  Mrs Romeyn is survived also by three sisters, the Misses Martha and Sarah McKee, and Mrs. Henry McLaughlin, and a brother John McKee, all of Moriah, N. Y., and by nine nieces and nephews.Funeral services were conducted by the Rev. R. S. O’Dell at the Romeyn home on Saturday afternoon a half past two and burial was in the family plot in Evergreen Cemetery.  Acting as bearers were six nephews—Fay, Dean, and Robert McLaughlin, and Hugh, Jack and Donald McKee.

Markedly present in Mrs. Romeyn’s personality were several traits of character, the most outstanding of which were loyalty, friendliness, and a joy in living and doing.  To the Baptist church, of which she had been a member since her early days in Keeseville, Mrs. Romeyn demonstrated in loving and unfailing attendance and service the depth of her sincerity and devotion.  A gift for friendship with persons of all ages gave much joy and help to others and a profound happiness to the giver.  The fruits of friendliness and helpfulness were richly evidenced by the loving attentions bestowed by old and young alike during weeks of failing health.  The philosophy of life which Mrs. Romeyn exemplified is perhaps best expressed by the following quotation from a poem read by Rev. O’Dell in the course of a tribute paid during the funeral service:

“There are loyal hearts, there are spirits brave,

There are souls that are pure and true:

Then give the world the best you have,

And the best will come back to you.

For Life is the mirror of kings and slaves,

’Tis just what you are and do.

Then give to the world the best you have

And the best will come back to you.”

Margaret B. Romeyn Obituary

September 11, 2001

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September 11, 2001.  I have no emotional investment in the events of that day beyond what I will call generic patriotic indignation.  I didn’t (to my knowledge) know anyone who died.  I wasn’t personally affected.  As an American, I’ll always feel “something” about what happened that day, but I know it will always pale in comparison to that felt by those who were there and/or by those who lost friends and loved ones that day.  

 

But this year that “something” is just a little larger.  In August my son Kyle and I visited the 9/11 Memorial and Museum in New York.  I thought I would share my observations and feelings about that visit.

 

First, the Memorial.  Twin mammoth waterfall pools where the towers once stood.  Awe-inspiring in their own right!  And the plaza…to say it was “clean” would be an understatement.  This is the cleanest, best cared-for public exhibit/monument I have ever experienced.  The place is in a constant state of being cleaned/mowed/swept/polished.  And everyone working/posted there, no matter their duty, seems as if they feel both proud and privileged to have been assigned there.  The place reeks of unspoken, almost subconscious reverence.

 

Then there is the museum.  Constructed in the sub-basement levels of the former WTC, it is simply awesome.  A long escalator takes you down from the street level, and then grand staircases take you the rest of the way down.  They limit attendance via ticket/reservation, so you never feel crowded.  There are guided tours if you wish to take one, but you can just browse.  Under one of the pools is an incredible exhibit that takes you through a minute-by-minute timeline of the events of that day.  You can hear air traffic control recordings and voice mail recordings.  Some of it seems, admittedly, a little silly.  “These are the shoes worn that day by the photographer who took the picture to the left.”  (No joke.)  But who am I to judge?  The place is so emotionally charged, I frankly was grateful for what I consider a bit of curatorial whimsy.

 

I could go on.  I don’t care who you are or where you are from, if you visit this place and are not moved in the slightest, you are dead inside.  If you have the means, do consider checking it out.

 

Why Brady Needed Surgery

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When he was about 10, Brady complained of what can best be described as tremors.  His hands would…twitch a little.  It was uncontrollable, almost subliminal, and he could even suppress it if he tried.  We reported it to his pediatrician.  After some questions and answers, her advice was that as long as the tremors didn’t get worse in terms of intensity or frequency, we probably didn’t need to worry about them.

 
Last year, they got worse.  They were now coming about a dozen times a day, were much more intense/severe, and involved his entire upper body, not just his hands (they still lasted less than a second).  Brady reported to Student Health Services on campus and they ordered an MRI.  The MRI detected a mass in Brady’s left frontal lobe.  He was referred to a neurosurgeon in Burlington, VT.  We went to see him (Dr. Tranmer) and he told us that the mass could not, because of its location, be the cause of Brady’s tremors.  However, it did need to be dealt with.
 
[Tangent: Brady subsequently saw a neurologist who diagnosed the tremors as being a symptom of Tourette’s Syndrome.]
 
Dr. Tranmer was very sure the tumor was benign, and we planned for it’s removal this Summer.  In May, a follow-up, more precise MRI was done, and the mass was identical to last year’s MRI.  Instead of just charging ahead with removal, Dr. Tranmer counseled a biopsy to determine the makeup of the tissue in question.  There was a possibility that it was merely suspicious-looking normal brain tissue (which obviously should not be removed!).  The biopsy was done in June and came back as a low-grade, benign oligodendroglioma.
 
Surgery was scheduled, and the tumor was successfully removed on July 29th, 2013.  In a way, it’s a happy accident this tumor was discovered.  Left undiscovered, it would have one day likely manifested itself in the form of nasty symptoms such as personality changes, seizures, or worse–in other words, possibly too late. 

 

My speech to the Spring, 2013 SUNY Potsdam Student Leader Conference

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I was invited by Mona Vroman to be the "featured dinner speaker" at this year’s Spring Student Leader Conference Alumni Dinner.  It is an event at which Alumni of all generations mingle with current students in leadership roles.  I have attended and greatly enjoyed this function for the last two years and was honored (eventually) to be asked to speak.  Here is the text of my speech which I gave this evening.

———-

I first want to thank Mona for asking me to be tonight’s speaker.  When she first approached me, I didn’t want to do it.  But she’s heard and enjoyed some of my Potsdam stories before and convinced me that my experiences and feelings for this place were worthy of sharing with you.  I hope you also will enjoy a few of my memories.

I also want to thank my wife Amanda and my sons, Brady and Kyle for supporting me.  

Amanda is home sick and couldn’t make it this evening.  Kyle is here.  Brady is on Res Life student staff and has training this evening. Working for a college is not always a nine-to-five job.  There are long work days, missed dinners, and weekends that end up not being Family Time.  But they’re always waiting for me when I get home.

In the fall of 1987 my parents drove with me to Potsdam to leave me, their only son, to the mercies of the adult world of college.  I was not what you’d call a "Leader" in high school.  I was a band geek, active in some extra-curricular activities, and the "non-jock" sports of soccer and bowling–but I didn’t stand out.  Still, my parents–who are here tonight–did a great job of preparing me for life on my own, that is to say life without their day-to-day involvement.  For them, mere thanks seem hardly adequate.  Armed with 18 years of "experience" and some fatherly advice, I let them help me move in, hugged and kissed them goodbye, and watched them go.


I wasted no time in engaging with campus administration.  1987 was the year the campus had, for some reason, grossly over-booked the residence halls.  Study-lounges became triples and no one had a super single that year.  I found myself in an undesirable housing situation and I fixed it.  How?  By reaching out to and working with the office of Residence Life.  Always interested in computers, I went in search of a job with CTS (then called Academic Computing).  I did not qualify for work/study and they had no assistantships with which to pay me.  So I volunteered. That year we set up the original Levitt Center, which I helped to monitor as well as working in the Academic Computing office.  By my Sophomore year I had become valuable enough to Academic Computing that they saw to it that I was hired each year afterward.  By the end of my college career I was managing all of Academic Computing’s student work force.  Since Academic Computing couldn’t pay me my first year and my parents wouldn’t give me any money over and above paying for my tuition, room, and board (nor should they have); I had to get another job.  Thank you PACES!  I worked as night cleaner in what used to be the Bowman dining hall.  In addition to my other duties, once a week I cleaned the grease trap under the floor by the main washing sink.  This was a job so foul that they could only do it when the hall was closed and everyone else was gone.  It’s no surprise they had trouble finding people willing to do it.  I volunteered for the job, negotiating triple-time pay while on the clock and cleaning that trap.

College Union Board (now SES) used to show movies in the Union MPR.  There was this massive booth on casters as big as your head that was so large it couldn’t leave the room.  It was wheeled into the center of the room and had 2 16mm projectors and plugged into a sound system…and was one of the coolest things I had ever seen.  I was always the kid in elementary school who ran the filmstrip and movie projectors, so I HAD to know more about this!  After seeing my first movie, I went and talked to the projectionist.  He gave me a tour of the booth, told me about CUB and invited me to the next meeting.  I went, joined, and volunteered for the film committee which was in charge of showing movies.  I was trained as a projectionist and was soon showing movies on my own.  I eventually took over as chair of the film committee and became responsible for the largest student organization budget on campus at the time: about $30,000.  I had to negotiate licenses with the companies that rented us the films, arrange for delivery and shipment of the movies, as well as recruit, organize, and train new projectionists.  That led to becoming President of CUB, which position was, at the time, also a Board Member of PACES. That afforded me an inside look at the workings of a corporation including board meetings and the vetting of contenders for the campus vending contract.  I was also part of the SGA executive committee that founded the Lehman Night Club–what you know today as Hurley’s.  I didn’t work for PACES through all of college–I eventually became a student Union Manager, patrolling Barrington after hours, opening and locking meeting rooms and locking the building at the end of my shift. As a result of holding that position, I very likely also hold the distinction of being the only person to be one-man security for a Phish concert.

One of the reasons I chose to come to SUNY Potsdam was that it was close enough to my home town of Keeseville that I could go home pretty much whenever I wanted, but far enough away that I was AWAY FROM HOME.  Keeseville is a small town–one of those places where it seems like everyone knows everyone.  That can be good–it is often said "it’s not what you know, it’s who you know."  But that can also be bad.  If everything you have you got because of a wink, a handshake, or a favor; you’ll never be sure what you can get on your own.  Potsdam was far enough away from home that I could be sure I wasn’t getting any favors. I earned the respect and responsibility I got on my own, and I take no small amount of pride in that.


SUNY Potsdam is awesome because it was and still is the kind of place that presents opportunities like the ones I had and of which I took advantage.  But opportunities don’t just fall in your lap, and you certainly don’t find them staying holed up in your room or your apartment.  You have to explore.  You have to get out.  You have to get involved.  If you’re bored on this campus–in this town–it’s your own fault.  I lived on campus for 5 years and boredom was not something I ever suffered.

Now I want to talk a little about giving back.  I love SUNY Potsdam.  I didn’t want to leave when it was time to go.  Not because I didn’t think I was ready for the World.  Just the opposite, in fact.  This place, my parents, and my freshly-minted Liberal Arts background had me prepared to do just about anything.  I returned home for one last stint at my summer job, temped briefly, sold office products, windows and doors, sold and serviced computers, and then, four and a half years after graduating, got a job here.  That was 1996 and I’m still here, still working for CTS, and I tell everyone I’m paid to play.  I don’t "work"…I have a job I love, and I’m doing it at a place I love.  It’s the single biggest thing I can do to show my appreciation for what my experiences at SUNY Potsdam have given me.  I didn’t realize this when I was hired, of course.  A job when you are in your 20s is all about paying your bills and being able to eat.  It was no different for me.  But about 7 or 8 years ago, our Alumni Office did something very nice.  Longtime Alumni Office secretary Laura Stevenson went to the office of every employee on campus who was also an alumnus and presented them with a gift.  Mine was a decorative dried gourd with a note that simply said, "Thank you for making SUNY Potsdam your Life’s Work."  I’ve never forgotten that.  Second only to my Family, SUNY Potsdam IS my Life’s work.  I just didn’t realize it until that moment.

Not all of you can graduate and end up working here, obviously.  It will happen to a few of you, I’m sure.  SUNY Potsdam may not be your life’s work.  But never forget this place, and give back to it when you can.  A lot of people hear "give back" and immediately think of money. I’d be lying if I said it wouldn’t be welcome, but that’s only one way of giving back. Come back when you can, for you will always be welcome.  Help out when you can.  There are Alumni groups all over the country that get together periodically–volunteer to head a chapter, or work with the Alumni Office to start one in your area if there isn’t one.  We have Reunion Weekend every Summer–more than just coming back for a visit, volunteer to help out in some capacity, no matter how small, while you are here.  Did you have a professor who really inspired you?  Come back and be a guest speaker in his or her course or at a function like this.  You are here tonight because you have already demonstrated above-average potential.  You are already on the road to success.  Consider sharing that success with your alma mater.

I mentioned fatherly advice in my opening paragraph.  If anyone’s curious, it was this: Make friends with the lunch ladies and the janitors. (Today more appropriately called food service workers and custodians.) I didn’t see the wisdom in that advice at the time.  If you don’t either, I suggest you try it for yourselves and report back to me in a few years!

I said earlier that I have a job I Iove.  May you all be so lucky, and may you all never forget how you got there, and the foundation and opportunities SUNY Potsdam has provided you.  With SUNY Potsdam behind you, I don’t think you’ll need much luck at all!

 

 

Movie Review – Les Miserables (2012)

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Earlier this year I saw a preview/trailer for yet another movie version of “Les Miserables.” There have been many movies made based on this story, but this one was going to be different. It was to be based on the Broadway musical! Moreover, the filming technique is something that has never been done before. The actors both acted and sang their musical roles. The full orchestral score was recorded AFTER filming and tailored to the singing of the actors. (It’s usually done the other way around.) The trailer alone gave me the chills and a teary eye!

It opened Christmas day and I vowed to see it. It is a vow I have kept; Amanda and I saw it last night. While excited, I had my doubts about this endeavour. Cameron Mackintosh was essentially trying to bridge the genres of Hollywood and Broadway in a way that had never been tried before. Movies have been made of musicals and musicals have been made of movies, but usually with great liberty and sacrifice of some core material. At nearly 160 minutes, I had hopes that there would be little of either of these. For the most part, I wasn’t disappointed. I have listened to the Complete Symphonic Recording of Les Miserables dozens of times over the years, seen the 25th Anniversary Concert (DVD) and seen the musical on stage. It’s fair to say I know the show well. This proved somewhat frustrating as I did note some omissions–some glaring, some subtle. But my observation in this regard is likely atypical. More casual fans aren’t likely to notice, for example, that Valjean’s lines, “I run a business of repute, I am the mayor of this town” are juxtaposed in the factory scene. (Although, now YOU will!)

The biggest concern I had was about the casting. I saw Russell Crowe cast as Javert and winced, thinking only of Pierce Brosnan in “Mamma Mia.” OK, so the guy’s easy on the eyes and has a British accent; but dear GOD, never let him sing!! Crowe can carry a tune, however. His singing voice is rather pleasant, but lacked the…the…the “dark power” I have always conjured in my mind and come to expect in other performances of Javert. “Stars” did not move me, and it usually does. Hugh Jackman was awesome, but I expected that. The only defect I saw in his performance was his rendition of “Bring Him Home.” I believe it was written to be sung falsetto in parts. Jackman stuck to his natural vocal range and it seemed forced. Eddie Redmayne’s Marius was spot-on. Amanda Seyfried (also from “Mamma Mia”) was amazing as Cosette. She was no slouch in “Mamma Mia,” but she really blew me away. I think perhaps she’s had some coaching. Her range is incredible. Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter as the Thenardiers were brilliant, but I knew they would be. And Anne Hathaway’s Fantine was sublime. Anyone without a tear in their eye after “I Dreamed A Dream” simply doesn’t have a soul.

If none of that convinces you to go see this movie, then go to see and hear Samantha Barks as Eponine. If you saw the 25th Anniversary Concert, then you’ve already seen her. Mackintosh tagged her to reprise the role in this film and her performance was flawless. The victim of unrequited love, she makes you feel it right along with her. You can almost forget you’re watching an actress playing a part–it’s like she’s really living it, and you’re living it right along with her. “Heart-wrenching” is barely adequate.

I could nitpick all day–there were little things that could have, that should have been different. Fantine’s afterlife self should have had long hair, for example. If I recall the stage performance I saw, Valjean’s prisoner brand is on his chest and he rips open his shirt in the courtroom when he confesses that Javert has the wrong man in custody. But none of my nitpickings should dissuade any fan from seeing this film. However, if you’re looking for a Broadway performance on film, you will be disappointed. If you’re looking for a traditional Hollywood Musical, ditto. This is something new–something different. I liked it. I hope you do too!

Why I’m Not Going To My 25th High School Reunion

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My 25th High School Reunion is next week, and I’m not going.

It would not be at all inconvenient for me to do so.  In fact, I’ll probably be in the neighborhood!  I simply have no desire.  None.  I’ve been thinking a lot about why, and I just saw a post on Facebook that sums it up very nicely for me.  It said, "If someone wants to be a part of your life, they’ll make an effort to be a part of it."

I think I can count on one hand–maybe two–the number of people from High School who have made an effort to be a part of my Life.  But you know what?  The reverse is also true.  I haven’t made much–if any–effort to be a part of anyone else’s either!  So what does that say?  To me, it says that I and the people with whom I attended High School have nothing in common except for the fact that we all went to High School together.  Why is that any reason to get together?  For me, it’s not.  I went to my 10th reunion.  When my wife (Jeannie) and I sat down at the table we chose when entering the room, the people who were sitting there moved to another one.  How very Lunch Room of them.  If there was anyone there I was actually curious about, I don’t remember it now.  All I remember is being ostracized and preached at by someone who had found religion and seemed bent on making sure my wife and I did too.  It is not an event on which I look back with fondness.  But none of that is a reason not to go now, 15 years later.  People change.  People grow.  The question I ask myself is, do I care?

I have done what I consider to be well for myself and for my family.  I am happy, and I work and spend time with people I consider my friends.  And people who like and respect me make an effort to be a part of my life.  I simply don’t care about anyone else or what they think.  When I mentioned all of this to my sister, she said, "maybe they don’t know how to get ahold of you," to which I replied, "Bullshit. My name is ‘Romeyn Prescott’! Type it into Google."  Go on, do it!  Type "Romeyn Prescott" with quotes into Google.  Your first 4 hits will likely be my personal "signature" site, followed by links to my profile on at least 3 major social networking sites.  And in the top 10 will be a white pages link informing you that there is ONE person named Romeyn Prescott in the U.S.!  Anyone claiming they don’t know how to get ahold of me clearly hasn’t tried. 

Not that they should!  I don’t write this out of self-pity.  I’m not sitting here in Potsdam wondering where everyone went or what they’re doing or why no one ever calls or e-mails.  The ones about which I do care are the ones about which I already know.  Will I look back on this decision with regret one day?  Perhaps.  But I’m a big boy now; I can handle it.  If someone wants to be a part of your life, they’ll make an effort to be a part of it.  I think that effort needs to be a little more substantial than showing up once every 15 years.

I’ll keep an open mind, however.  Maybe I’ll go to the 40th.  Who knows?
 

Process Paralysis

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This morning I was in a meeting discussing a proposed policy change.  What the policy is and who was involved isn’t important.  We were going ’round and ’round about the processes affected by and driving this policy.  It was basically process analysis.  Never one to take a mandate without question if I have one, I was asking a lot of questions.  I finally cut to the heart of the matter and asked, "why can’t the <thingies> have <doodads> on them?"

I was greeted with what I perceived to be a semi-aghast, frustrated shrug at the very notion that such a thing could be possible, which was given audible form by the accompanying statement, "This is the system as it was given to me.  We’ve always done it this way."

I stood up, put both hands on the table, leaned toward the person who made that statement, and firmly but assuringly said, "We. Can. Make. It. BETTER!"

I sat back down.  There was a look of surprise on the face to the person whom I had addressed.  And why not?  We work for the State.  We are entrenched in Bureaucracy.  We have been beaten into submission by a monster of red tape, made to believe that things are too complicated to be changed or that they are the way they are if for no other reason than because they have always been that way.  Why should we have any hope that things could be any way but what they are?

I call this "process paralysis" and it’s ridiculous.  "Policy" isn’t carved in stone somewhere, immutable for all ages, never to be altered.  It can be changed.  And when it makes sense to do so, we should.  We CAN make it better!
 

The Inertia of Change

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A recent InfoWorld article attributes the following quote to Charles Babbage: "Propose to a man any principle, or an instrument, however admirable, and you will observe the whole effort is directed to find a difficulty, a defect, or an impossibility in it. If you speak to him of a machine for peeling a potato, he will pronounce it impossible: If you peel a potato with it before his eyes, he will declare it useless, because it will not slice a pineapple."

That very nicely distills down to its essence my frustration with trying to get anything done that involves by necessity the participation of other people.  I didn’t realize until I read that quote just how maddening this behavior is.  I’ll call it "subconscious obstructionism," because I don’t believe that most people behave this way on purpose.  As soon as I read that all sorts of situations started playing back in my brain and I recognized just how annoying this is.  As soon as you say, "Let’s do <something>," people fall all over themselves to be the first to tell you why that’s a BAD idea.  As I write this, I can’t think of a more soul- and enthusiasm-sucking behavior. 

Proper and responsible analysis of any proposed change has to include consideration of possible negative consequences.  And, obviously, not all ideas are good ideas.  But why leap to that conclusion as a knee-jerk reaction?  Everyone fears change.  But change is inevitable.  If we think of a change as a boat, I’ve decided that I’d rather stick my paddle in the water and attempt to contribute to the boat’s direction rather than just sit there and let it take me wherever it ends up, complaining the whole way that where we were was just fine and why do we have to go to this new place wah-wah-wah. 

In a blog post, Jenica Rogers references Seth Godin:

"There are a million reasons to say no, but few reasons to stand up and say yes.

No requires just one objection, one defensible reason to avoid change. No has many allies–anyone who fears the future or stands to benefit from the status quo. And no is easy to say, because you actually don’t even need a reason.

No is an easy way to grab power, because with yes comes responsibility, but no is the easy way to block action, to exert the privilege of your position to slow things down.

No comes from fear and greed and, most of all, a shortage of openness and attention. You don’t have to pay attention or do the math or role play the outcomes in order to join the coalition that would rather things stay as they are (because they’ve chosen not to do the hard work of imagining how they might be)."

I’m going to start saying "yes" more often, and dig my paddle into that water with as much gusto as I can muster.  And you nay-sayers in the middle of the boat?  Grab your own paddle, shut up, or get out of the boat!