The Balloonist and the Hiker (An Evaluator Joke)

balloonist and hiker
A man in a hot air balloon realized he was lost. He reduced altitude and spotted a woman hiking down below. He descended a bit more and shouted, “Excuse me, can you help me? I promised a friend I would meet him an hour ago, but I don’t know where I am.”

The hiker, shouting back, replied, “You are in a hot air balloon hovering approximately 30 feet above the ground. You are somewhere between 29 and 31 degrees north latitude and 89 and 91 degrees west longitude.”

“Hey, what are you, an evaluator?” yelled the balloonist.

“Why, I am,” the hiker yelled back, “How did you know?”

“Well,” shouted the balloonist, “everything you told me is technically correct, but I have no idea what to do with your information! Fact of the matter is, I’m still lost, and you haven’t said or done a damned thing to help!”

“You must be a program manager.” The hiker yelled back.

“I am,” shouted the balloonist, “but how did you figure that out?”

“Well,” the hiker bellowed, “you don’t know where you are.
You don’t know where you’re going.
You’ve risen to where you are due to a large quantity of hot air.
You’ve made a promise that you have no idea how to keep, and now you expect me to solve your problem.
The fact is you are in exactly the same position you were in before we met, but now, somehow, it’s my fault.”

[Oh those crazy evaluators!]
Source unknown. Maybe I got it from someone at the American Evaluation Association. I found this story in my digital files the other day while, of course, looking for something else. It does come in handy; I’m thinking a lot about the relevance and utility of evaluation findings.
Hey, help me out, if you know to whom I should attribute this, then by all means, leave a comment. Thanks.

Side by Side Knots. Hey, An Owl?

I hope I’m only a few hours from finishing this. You see, I found a scrap piece of wood, a 4 X 4 X ?28? Piece of cedar at Lowes. Got it for 50¢ since it had two big old knots, which reminded my of eyes…owl eyes. Problem is, I do pencils, not owls…so I’m really playing this one by ear!

IMG_0598.JPG

Son of a…

Something interesting happened last weekend while visiting friends. I saw a carving I had made nearly a quarter of a century ago, called Maryam’s monk, that prompted me to look at time – not only in terms of chronology but also as Kairos, which roughly corresponds to the difference between a minute and a moment.

Entranced as I was, I felt like never before the significance of a quote from Cervantes that I included in a recent post. Cada uno es hijo de sus obras. Roughly translated, Each of us is the son (or daughter) of his (or her) works. (Read how this was uttered by Sancho Panza in Don Quijote, Part 1, Chapter 47). Looking at the carving, which I’m now calling Maryam’s Monk (see photo below), I suddenly recalled in that moment how it was made and who I’d become since.

It's Kairos Time

It’s Kairos Time

To be continued.

Maryam’s Monk

Maryam's Monk

Maryam’s Monk

(Find him here too – under Wood!)