Dancing cabbages and frozen manure

Over the weekend, DVD helped me remember some "not so hot" memories from my first month at work for a telephone cooperative back in 1982 in eastern Montana. The first incident I can chalk up either to my poor listening skills or my boss who spoke with a Boston accent. Anyway, what I heard was "Go through this stack of expense reports and pull out any that deal with dancing cabbage."

Now remember, this is January of 1982 and Cabbage Patch dolls are all the rage. Being a bachelor with no kids and no interest in dolls, I have no clue what the rage was all about, but it might have included dancing cabbages. So I spent hours looking through expense reports and found none that mentioned dancing cabbages. At last, I gave my report...not to my boss, but to the auditor who I was assisting. The auditor looked sternly and said, "No, not dancing cabbages, I want expense reports for our former employee, Dan Sincavage." And so I got to go through the stack of expense reports one more time.

Well, that story pales in comparison to the next one. I had moved from Baker to Glendive as I transitioned from being a newspaper editor to being a public relations representative. I had selected my apartment partly because I had planned to grow a garden when summer arrived.

Well, lo and behold, it seemed like the gods were smiling on me. The co-op asked me to drive a four-wheel drive pickup to a farm southeast of Baker and interview an elderly couple, whom I already knew. I figured the couple would be generous and give me some free manure that I could haul to Glendive for my garden, then I could clean up the truck and no one would be the wiser.

Well, it wasn't only the gods but also a Mr. Murphy who had a hand in this one. First off, the farmer was generous with his manure, very generous. I drove back to Glendive with a heaping load, but the sky darkened and it began to rain. Now anyone who has seen a January rain knows that it often turns to January ice.

My trip to Baker occurred on a Thursday and on Friday I was asked to drive up to Circle where the co-op was headquartered. I hadn't cleaned out the manure because it was frozen solid, but I drove the pickup and parked it at the edge of town hoping no one would spot it. Now Circle is a small town, so even at the far edge the truck was only about two blocks from where I worked...and yet no one seemed to notice the pickup. Maybe I would get away with it.

No such luck.

It was getting on into the afternoon when my boss called me and said that he needed me to drive the pickup around to haul some mail to the Post Office. I told him that probably wasn't a good idea and explained about the frozen cargo I was carrying.

He told me that by Monday he wanted me to bring the pickup back to Circle and it had better be clean of any foreign material or I would be in deep doo-doo.

After work, I left the pickup at my apartment in Glendive and drove my car to Roundup for the weekend. Dad sent me back a pick that he used go rock hunting and said it might come in handy.

So on Sunday night, I threw a trouble light over a tree limb and began chipping out the hardened and ice encrusted manure. After digging down aways, I found the manure was warmer and I could eventually use a shovel to remove the big chunks.

Anyway, come Monday the pickup was returned...but probably not as clean as my boss would have liked it. Yet, I got to keep my job and another word was never spoken about it.

Still there's a moral to the story. When our kids or a young person whom we work with does something that's absolutely stupid, let's remember that we were young once, too.

When not listening actually is preferred

I'm a big fan of listening. I like to listen to music, good preaching, entertaining stories and almost anything my family has to say.

But sometimes you don't want to listen...especially to the little voice inside your head that plants doubts and "what-ifs." More about that later.

There are times when you just feel like you were created for the moment. I believe, for instance, that Babe Ruth was created to play baseball for the New York Yankees during the roaring 1920s. He simply embodied the carefree, anything goes lifestyle of the era. He had a big face, a big cigar and a big ego that matched his big appetite for fun and heroics.

Likewise, I feel like I was created to win the speech contest tomorrow in Deadwood. My speech, first of all, is pretty good. It makes you laugh, makes you cry and makes you think....all within the seven-minute time frame.

Then there's me...a guy who has perfected the conversational style of speaking. I may not be the best looking guy or gal on the dais, but I look like someone you could be friends with, and I have a non-threatening appearance. Perhaps even lovable, like a cuddly teddy bear.

Still, there's a little voice in me that says, "What if....what if there is someone who's even written a better speech and has the charisma of John Kennedy, Junior!"

That's when you have to be the master of not listening to the little voice. Instead, you have to listen to your big voice....the one that says, "You can do it. In fact, this is nothing compared to the challenges you've already faced an overcome in glorious fashion. You were created for this moment in time. Pity the others because you are the master, the kahuna!"

Dare I say it...a part of me has been wondering for the last couple of weeks if my niece Janelle's car accident and her subsequent recovery isn't God's way of setting me up for the greatest speech of my life. Time will tell.

But when it comes to listening, sometimes not listening is just as important.

What else am I not going to do?

Now that I firmly established my sights on not writing a novel, there are some other things that I'm not going to do...but I have some good ideas that I would like to share.

These ideas aren't original so I shouldn't take credit for them; however, I will take credit for sharing them with people who are entrepreneurs, young and have the where-with-all to make them reality.

The first is fried ice cream. I mean who doesn't like this stuff. It's the high point of any trip to Paradiso...first the enchiladas and second the fried ice cream. But my ecstasy was taken to a new level this weekend when I saw a cake pan filled with fried ice cream.

The lady who made it started by coating her cake pan with corn flakes, chopped nuts and coconut. Then she sprinkled cinnamon and sugar and drizzled some honey. For the ice cream, she bought two half gallons of vanilla and split them in half. She placed the halves of ice cream over the bottom coating and then put a top coating of the same ingredients and "ta da" -- fried ice cream. Now I'm thinking that Schwan's frozen foods could make a lot of money selling their own version of this recipe to people like me who are too lazy to make it themselves but are addicted to it. Of course, the trick is to keep the corn flakes crispy so the dessert would have to be flash frozen. But if you're making it yourself, just make the dessert right before you are going to eat it.

The second great idea is peach kuchen. I don't have the recipe for this yet...but when I get it, I'll be sure and make a big batch for me to eat along in my kitchen.

Belinda's Aunt Clara, who also lives in Mandan, has made this twice now for the people -- like me -- eating in the hospital's waiting room as we keep vigil over my niece Janelle. That's also where I ate the fried ice cream which was made by Joanne, a sister of my sister-in-law Bernie.

There's also one more edible delight that I've never fallen out of love with and it too keeps showing up in the waiting room -- that's Scotcheroos. Belinda doesn't make them at home, so when I get them somewhere else, I'm there for firsts, seconds and maybe even thirds.

Okay, so I'm not going to start mass producing Scotcheroos, fried ice cream and peach kuchen. But if I did, my company would be successful. Although the owner might eat up the profits.

Writing a novel

I've never written a novel...nor have I had a desire to...but sometimes I think of a good story and wonder if I could ever write a best seller on the New York Times list.

One of my favorite books growing up was titled "My side of the Mountain." I can't remember all the details anymore but some how this boy used his camping skills to make a pretty good life for himself in a rotted tree in the forest. I guess the freedom enjoyed by the hero appealed to me even though I've never been much of a camper. And I'm pretty picky when it comes to what I eat. Also I don't like being outside when it's dark...other than that, I thought maybe I could have been the hero in the story...if I would have only had a pocket knife.

I've also often thought about writing a story about a time traveler who wanders back into colonial times and is heralded as a genius because he invents the car, the lightbulb, the plane, etc., all before other people named Ford, Edison and Wright are born. However, the idea of writing about time travel has really been done to death. Still, it might be kind of fun to write about someone who changes the world dramatically because of some extra gift he or she has.

Throughout my life, I've wandered into people who have never had to work a day in their lives because their family was outrageously rich. I've often thought it might make an interesting story if these second or third generation fat cats lost all their money and had to start over from scratch. Man would their lives change. Instead of Christmas shopping at Macy's in New York City or vacationing in southern France, they could be like the rest of us and shop at Wal-Mart and spend the weekend at the local lake with a Zebco fishing pole.

How much different do you think your children's lives are from the lives of Melinda and Bill Gates' kids. As parents, we all worry about kidnappers, but think about the Gates...they must have five or six bodyguards protecting their children from idiots who would try to snatch them and hold them for ransom. Some times being rich isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Anyway, these are some of the ideas I've had for a novel. Nothing has ever come of them...until now when I wrote them down for you. Maybe someday they just might make a book. Who knows.

Washing the feet of others

During Maunday Thursday services, it is not uncommon for a pastor to wash the feet of some of the congregation. This is a ritual that has been practiced since Jesus washed the feet of his disciples.

Still, if you are one of the people asked to remove your shoes and have the pastor wash your feet, you never feel you are deserving. "My feet?" you might think, "Couldn't you just wash my hands and we'll call them my feet?"

No, Jesus washed the feet of his disciples...the feet that had walked in dirt over many miles.

In the same humble attitude, I have to doff my cap to the Mandan United Methodist Church who have adopted Steve and Amy Scheitlin and their family as their own this week. Their daughter Janelle was hurt in a car accident in the early morning hours of April 5. She fell asleep when driving from Glendive to her home on the farm near Lindsay, Montana. The car went down an embankment and rolled, throwing Janelle.

Two truckers (were they angels?) stopped and covered her with blankets and called the ambulance at 1 a.m. Her dad -- who was searching for her -- came upon the accident scene about the time the ambulance arrived.

She was taken to Glendive and then airlifted to a hospital in Bismarck at 6:30 a.m. Sunday. Since then, she has been in ICU, undergone several surgeries and has remained in a coma. Her parents kept a 24-hour vigil at the hospital for several days along with other other family members.

Well, the first week has passed, and while Janelle is still in a coma, the doctors are more hopeful than they've been all week that she will awake and begin her recovery.

But during this time of stress, worry, tears and gut wrenching nightmares for her family, several members of the Mandan United Methodist Church have been delivering meals to the hospital -- all week -- lunch and dinner. The meals have ranged from scalloped potatoes and ham to pulled pork and beer-can chicken.

Most of the family is Catholic so yesterday the lunch was tuna burgers and broccoli soup. The dinner was cheese buttons and knoefla soup. Yesterday's meals were made by family members...however, some of the family members are also part of the UMC family.

The Scheitlins cannot believe the love that has been showered over them by this church family. They stand in awe, just as someone who has had their feet washed. And they are forever grateful for the compassion shown and the prayers spoken on their behalf.

I might add that this isn't the only outpouring of love. The Scheitlins are in the middle of calving but one of the neighbors took the remaining cows to his farm. And another neighbor is feeding the Scheitlin cattle that have already calved. Another has said that he will finish planting if Steve is still in Bismarck when the ground is ready for the plow.

The Christian love shown this family has deeply touched me...and I thought you would like to know as well. Amen!

Pet peeves

I saw an article yesterday about "corporate speak" that I think all us who work for a living are sick of. The article talked about "thinking outside of the box" and one of the commenters wrote back and said, "If I hear that phrase one more time, I'm going to ask the person if they first ever thought inside the box."

I thought it was a good response, because I for one have thought the same thing. There's an old game called bingo that can be changed to "corporate speak" bingo. Instead of having numbers on a card, you replace the numbers with words such as: scenario, robust, synergies, core competencies, value added, maximizing shareholder value, etc. Then when you hear your business experts speaking at the next conference, you start marking off the words until you can stand up and yell "BINGO."

One of my biggest pet peeves is having someone at a brainstorming session pounce on your idea with this gem, "That dog won't hunt." Hey, if you are trying to brainstorm, then every idea has merit...later you can judge the good from the bad.

Another one I'm quickly getting tired of is "being thrown under the bus."

Maybe it's too graphic, I don't know. But I'm also tired of it because it's said much too often.

But it's not just words that bother me. I went shopping last night, and there were a few people at the grocery store who were starting to get on my nerves. Like the lady on her cell phone who was maneuvering her cart between me and the milk...while I was trying to reach and get a couple cartons of 2 percent. When I caught her eye, she looked at me with an "I didn't see you there" expression on her face. I was about ready to heave one of the cartons of milk at her to see if she saw that coming!

Then there were two old ladies in the parking lot who first looked like they were trying to hit me with their car when I was putting my cart in the "cart corral" but later I figured out they were both blind as they parked their car at a "jaunty angle" taking up the better parts of two parking spaces.

But the coup de gras came at home when I tried to open up the screen door while packing six bags. I managed to jam my left ring finger into something metallic that didn't give but managed to raise my finger nail about six inches. Nothing like seeing blood spurt into your grocery sacks.

But I must end on a high note...so let me tell you about lunch today. A young man at KFC gave Dad and I both a senior citizens discount for the buffet. So instead of paying $8 a head, we only paid $7. Now is that a compliment to get a dollar off, or is it a smear to be thought of as a senior citizen while I'm still in my forties. Or maybe 49 is when old age occurs?

Oh well....what are your pet peeves?

Toastmasters...not an end, but a journey

Today, I won my third Toastmasters Contest in row. I'm continuing to use my same speech about customer service and I can use it one more time -- for the district competition in Deadwood. After that, I need to come up with a totally new speech.

So I was thinking what else might I like to talk about and the title above came to mind.

I first joined Toastmasters in 1989. I joined because I had a severe fear of public speaking. As in...I completely lost my appetite and was petrified beyond belief to get up in front of others. And finally, I realized I needed to overcome this fear. My tool would be Toastmasters.

For those of you who know no fear, let me tell you that phobias can be crippling. In fact, I not only feared public speaking but I also feared flying and a host of other things. But somehow overcoming my fear of speaking help me overcome these others as well...as if by magic.

But it took a great deal of work and time to get to where I felt comfortable being in front of a crowd and talking. And while I was doing that...I figured I might as also advance in whatever Toastmasters had to offer, namely communications and leadership training.

In 1994, I served as the district governor for about 60 clubs that stretched from western North Dakota to the western third of Minnesota. So from Alexandria, Minnesota, to Alexander, North Dakota sat my District 20 clubs.

The most important thing I learned about leadership was that if I can inspire volunteers to help me, I can inspire people who are actually getting paid to help me. The secret is what sounds like the call letters of a radio station - WIIFM. However, in this case, the letters stand for "What's in it for me?"

People are more likely to do something if they see a benefit for them rather than for you. They don't care if you win an award for being the district governor, but they want to win a ribbon or a plaque for being the president of the best club in the district. So if you inspire them to achieve their goals at the club level, you can achieve your goals as a district governor...simple as that.

But you never really feel like you mastered everything Toastmasters has to offer because Toastmasters isn't an end in itself. For instance, I achieved the highest distinction Toastmasters offers -- Distinguished Toastmaster or DTM. However, that's not important. What's important is that I use my skills that I learned in Toastmasters to do the things I like to do...such as teach a Sunday School class, be the song leader during church service or serve as the chairman of the church's administrative board. I also learned how to write a pretty good speech for executives, which has kept me gainfully employed!

I learned to be organized and communicate well by being a club and then a district officer. And I learned to speak well and, most importantly, be interesting by being a member of not one, but three Toastmasters clubs.

I now only belong to one club, but when I was younger, I had a red hot passion for Toastmasters because like everything else in life...the more you put into it, the more you get out of it.

Or as Paul wrote to the church in Galatia, as you sow, so shall you reap.

Here's a picture of me with the speech trophy I won at Toastmasters today. My son Derek proudly displays his trophy for being an outstanding college TV weather personality. The legacy of Toastmasters continues to a second generation. Both Scott and Derek excelled at speech in high school -- both reaching the national forensic finals -- because they never feared public speaking. I guess they simply thought, "If dad can do it, there's nothing to it."

Random thoughts while channel surfing

I felt terrible last night. I've had a head cold for a few days and rather than seeing the doctor, I decided I would just tough this one out. I guess I'm coming to the realization that if you see the doctor, you're out about $150 for the office call and drugs and the cold still lasts for about three or four days. So if you tough it out and take over the counter medicine to feel a little better and eat lots of chicken soup, the cold lasts about a half a week.

So I had no energy. However, Grandpa had lots of energy. We went for a walk and we read and we cut his toenails. Eventually, he decided it was time for him and the kitty to go to bed. At last, I thought, I can grease up with Vicks and watch the news channels -- CNN, Fox News and...if things get slow...I'll skip over to MSNBC and watch Olbermann's three worse people in the world schtick which is always the same, Bill O'Rielly, Sean Hannity and some Republican lawmaker who had the guts to stand up to the Obama "dream" machine.

CNN was focused on the President's trip to London, but most of the coverage seemed to be centered on the President's wife. No news there, just empty, mindless drivel about how Michelle has risen like a Phoenix from a working class family, attended the best schools in America and appears at ease among the world's leaders and England's royal family. My only question is, "what did they expect?" That she would spill soup on her clothes and show up for her visit with the queen with a red stain on her yellow blouse?

Then it was on to Sean Hannity who had some wierd trio of "experts" trying to decipher the meaning of the President's first 70 days in office and how our kids will never live in a world that is free of paying off the national debt. As I got to thinking about this, I'm pretty sure that I've never lived in the United States when it didn't have a national debt. As far as I know, we're still paying for the Vietnam War, which was fought on credit.

So at the appropriate time, I changed to MSNBC and Olbermann's nightly attack on Fox News. As I listened, it occurred to me that Olbermann is actually promoting Sean Hannity and Bill O'Reilly as he tries to skewer them Monday through Friday. I mean, wouldn't you like to find out for yourself if these two guys are really as "over the top" as Olbermann's portrays them to be?

And the worst person in world was the House minority leader who had the guts to say that cap and trade would cost the average American household about $3,100 more a year. Not so, Olberman said, the actual price is $31 a year.

Yeah, right....he seems to forget that coal is where Americans get their electricity, natural gas is how we heat our homes and gasoline is how we fuel our cars. So if he thinks $31 a year is the right number, turns out Olbermann is the worst person in the world. There's a term called "pipe dream" which comes from people who smoke hallucinigenics in pipes. Seems Olbermann has had a pipedream....though it's hard to tell through his skowl. My guess is that he's one of those who people who turns meaner when he's under the influence.

Anyone buying the prattle of MSNBC's Olbermann deserves what they get.

But there was still more to come. Starting next Monday, MSNBC will debut the "Ed Show" featuring another former sports commentator turned liberal lackie -- Olbermann also is a former host of Sports Center for those with alzheimer's.

Ed Schultz has hit the big time. The bombastic one will now be one of MSNBC's left swingers -- although Ed used to swing from the right. I heard on his regional radio talk show a couple of weeks ago a spot-on imitation of Barney Frank's lisp. I'm wondering if he'll do that on MSNBC.

With that...it was time to go to bed. But I'm feeling better today. The cold seems to be going away...along with my memories of last night's "news."