Why didn’t I think of this in the first place?
(Here’s what I mean by “the first place.” I did this same drawing in another post entitled Stand-Up Anthropology with a different twist and corresponding word bubble roughly related to the old comedic phrase, take my wife. As I was doing that post, it occurred to me that it might be even more anthropologically relevant and perhaps funnier, per se, for a female comedian to utter that old line in a regular comedy-club setting.)
$20.00 says there’s a cultural alternative to “Take my wife – please.”
What would Henny Youngman say?
As we move from the Hartford of the West (Des Moines, IA) to the Gateway to Yosemite (Merced, CA), from the nation’s breadbasket to not far from its salad bowl, we’ll have to keep an eye on water like never before. Water is a finite and precious resource practically everywhere, and this is especially true in the San Joaquin Valley.
City of Merced, Gateway to Yosemite
I once heard a change-management consultant tell a conference room full of hospital administrators, physicians, and staff … “the only person who likes change is a baby with a wet diaper.” (Hey, I subsequently dealt with this image, click here to see.) I was one of those administrators in that conference room in New Orleans about six months after Hurricane Katrina at a hospital whose survival depended upon a very deliberate and systematic organizational transformation; and yet the natural forces of resistance to change – among the victimized and exhausted few who were not temporarily or permanently displaced – were functional and ready for a good fight. It’s only natural. However, there was no alternative in this case. The organizational and structural changes simply had to take place and the resistance to change had to become collaboration in change; and this happened in large part due to an extraordinarily unique combination of chronic passion (joie de vivre) and acute Katrina fatigue in an extraordinarily unique context in an extraordinarily unique city.
However, when the need for change is perceived as optional and any sense of urgency is a matter of opinion, development efforts can drag on for years, resistance to change can become business as usual, and collaboration can be confined to ongoing turf battles. Even when complicated baseline findings of the communities’ perceived needs are available and displayed along side the communities’ complicated aspirations for all to compare, there can be voices crying out for simplicity and ease … but not for change.
If I ever do this again, I’ll try to remember to start off with that catchy quote about the baby, the diapers, and change, which reminds me of a drawing/post I have up my sleeve about calzones and how I suspect that this term, which means pants, really comes from little, little pants…diapers? The fullness of diapers?
One of these days I’ll tell the story of how I became familiar with traditional Persian music. It has been a love affair of more than 30 years! On one of our flights back from CA to IA I was listening to a beautiful piece that featured the Persian ney and tombak, and this little drawing was inspired. If you’re not familiar with this music or these instruments, then I simply suggest that you look them up on YouTube. It’s been a long day; otherwise, I would supply a link or two.
I’ve caught myself driving this way. It’s safer to go into the direction you’re heading.
If you’ve moved around, then you’ll probably agree with me that one of the more disorienting and challenging aspects about being new to a living environment is trying to become accustomed to where the light switches are and which lights they control. Maybe there are customs, suggested practices, heck, maybe there are codes, but for each there is an exception. As a result, the modern placement of light switches is most likely governed by Hermes himself.
The questions about light-switch placement at every doorway, every passageway include:
Is it on this side or that side?
Is on the right or left?
Is it grouped logically or illogically with other lights, exhaust fans, garbage disposals, etc?
Is it, in fact, a real light switch or is it a placebo switch that was installed by a previous occupant who majored in experimental psychology?
Are there more?
Sat. March 8, 2014 UPDATE: Two months ago, when I did the drawing below, (Jan. 2014), little did I know that we would end up renting a place only 0.7 miles from this particular stretch of E. South Bear Creek, i.e., four min. by bicycle:
I’ve fallen love with these beautiful cypress trees…again. I’ve always loved them; and to see them alone, in pairs, and in stands is a delight. As we meet up with realtors and property managers at various locations throughout Merced, there are always a few cypress trees in plain sight. This particular stand is located along Bear Creek Road. As you look to the east, if you’re able to see around these trees on a clear day, the Sierra Nevada Mountains are visible, and you can hear them whisper, “Come closer!”
Some little baby cypress trees:
Prior to take off, the citizen-passengers of Flight #US 530 explored the notions of high-altitude community service and civic duty, examined the exit seat eligibility and performance criteria, and posed critical questions that could very well affect the destinies of all on board.
All of the uncertainty out there seems to have underscored the importance of strategy above all in development initiatives. (See also Nobody Likes Change or Complexity.)
OK, mea culpa.
portfoliolongo 