Working Up

by Dwayne Phillips

Life is full of interesting things. All we have to do is notice them. To do so, I have learned to keep my “notice-er” engaged. I have also learned how to keep and use the noticed things.

At a recent public gather, a friend stood to give a five-minute speech. This five-minute speech occurs at every one of these gatherings, and several of us take turns giving the speech. He began with,

Every time I am asked to speak, I find something interesting happening the week before.

I find a simple explanation to this interesting coincidence. The week of his speech, he had turned on his “notice-er.” He had paid attention to his surroundings and noticed things of interest instead of being oblivious to them.

I learned the use of the notice-er from author and consultant Jerry Weinberg a decade ago. I was attending a one-week writing workshop led by Jerry. He would send us out at our lunch break with the assignment: “notice five things.” Everyone in the workshop was able to complete the assignment every day, i.e., we each noticed 25 interesting things during the week.

Since that workshop, I have kept my notice-er turned on most days. This noticing is great when looking for topics to describe. The down side is that it is easy to have your mind over load with interesting things. Jerry supplied a technique to deal with all these interesting noticed things – the fieldstone.

I use 3×5 cards to record fieldstones (since described by Jerry in a book). I have stacks of hundreds of these cards dating back to that week of the writing workshop. I blog about two such fieldstones each week. The trouble is that I notice more than two things each week. Hence, my pile of fieldstones is growing instead of shrinking. Perhaps one day I will have the time and energy to transform these piles into a set of books.

Until then, I will keep noticing with my notice-er, keep collecting the fieldstones, and keep writing. Life is so interesting and writing is so enjoyable.

by Dwayne Phillips

From June 28th through July 3rd, I had the privilege of being on a raft on the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. This was part of a family trip “for the guys.” On a trip put together by my father-in-law Allan, his two sons, me (a son in law), my three sons, two other grandsons, one grandson-in-law, and one great grandson spent five days and five nights on the Colorado River. These blog posts are part of the story.

I live in the busy Northern Virginia suburbs of Washington D.C. Like most suburbs of major cities, we have lots of lights. For those people who like to look at the stars, this is known as light pollution.

One of the reasons I love to visit my mother in rural southeastern Louisiana is that there are few man-made lights – little light pollution. That allows me to look at all the stars and do one of my favorite yet rarely enjoyed hobbies – viewing satellites. That is kind of odd, the man-made lights are in the way of watching man-made satellites, but that is the nature of the hobby.

The International Space Station is the easiest object to view orbiting the earth. It is so big now that only the moon is easier to see in the night sky. All you have to do is find the right time and direction to watch. This is one web site that provides that information. But that is too easy.

What I really like to do is look for other satellites. That requires almost no man-made light and a lot of patient staring into the night sky. The floor of the Grand Canyon would be a perfect place to be and stare up. But it was not that easy. Several problems:

• a couple of cloudy nights
• one raining night
• eyes worn tired by the sun of the day
• eyes worn really tired by the sun of the day

We reached Friday night, and I had not seen a satellite fly over. We gathered in the camp circle of chairs after dinner while Jake told us what was to happen on the morning that we left the river. I was tired and could barely listen. I leaned back in my chair and stared in numbness up into the night sky. There it was – small and dim, but was moving almost directly overhead from canyon wall to canyon wall.

There, just then, sitting dead tired in that circle of chairs, one of my wishes for the rafting trip was fulfilled. I saw a satellite fly over.

I smiled. In moments I was asleep in the cot.

by Dwayne Phillips

From June 28th through July 3rd, I had the privilege of being on a raft on the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. This was part of a family trip “for the guys.” On a trip put together by my father-in-law Allan, his two sons, me (a son in law), my three sons, two other grandsons, one grandson-in-law, and one great grandson spent five days and five nights on the Colorado River. These blog posts are part of the story.

The crew from Tour West did a great job with the food on the trip. They cooked via propane tanks and charcoal briquettes. The briquettes were lit using lighter fluid. I don’t like the odor of lighter fluid. Some people probably do, but not me. Years ago we learned how to light the briquettes with a chimney-like device and newspaper – no chemical fuel.

Several mornings the crew used briquettes in the morning. I’m not sure what they cooked with charcoal for breakfast, but I know they used lighter fluid.

Morning is supposed to smell like coffee; morning is supposed to smell like bacon. Morning is not supposed to smell like lighter fluid.

Nevertheless, the morning meals were great.

by Dwayne Phillips

From June 28th through July 3rd, I had the privilege of being on a raft on the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. This was part of a family trip “for the guys.” On a trip put together by my father-in-law Allan, his two sons, me (a son in law), my three sons, two other grandsons, one grandson-in-law, and one great grandson spent five days and five nights on the Colorado River. These blog posts are part of the story.

On the Sunday night before embarking on the river, our guide Andy told us,

Take only photographs,
Leave only footprints

I thought that was a clever way to say things and I like clever ways to say things – ways that people remember. I didn’t need the clever little saying to remember that we were not to leave anything in the canyon. For a week, we lived by the saying

leave only footprints

We ate three meals a day in our camp. We were told, “If you drop any food crumbs, pick them up and put them in our trash cans.”

We did that. We didn’t leave any potato chip crumbs; we didn’t leave any bread crumbs, and we didn’t leave any pancake or cookie crumbs. We picked up every crumb and put them in the trash.

As an aside, what surprised me was that even after we left a spotless camp, big black birds would swarm onto the beach the minute we pulled away. I hate to disappoint them, but we disappointed them every time.

This leave only footprints was heeded on the river as well. On two occasions, we slowed our raft to retrieve a floating coke bottle from the river. On another occasion we slowed the raft because we saw something that looked like floating trash. It was only a lump of foam in the river naturally.

We camped in places that other groups of rafters camped. We stopped to hike near beaches where other groups of rafters stopped. No trash anywhere. Nothing. No one left anything behind in the canyon except footprints, and I saw a lot of footprints. It takes rain to wash away footprints, and there isn’t much rain in the bottom of the canyon.

This was a surprise. The Grand Canyon is a big place. There are only several thousand people a year who see the canyon from the river. I never thought that trash left behind would be a big issue. For some reason it was a big issue and everyone picked up every little piece of trash.

Now that am I back in civilization, I take my usual walks and runs here and there. I am shocked by seeing any bit of trash on the ground. A week of absolutely nothing on the ground gave me a fresh perspective.

It is possible to leave only footprints. I wish everyone could have that experience.

by Dwayne Phillips

I have learned how to email bad emotions and their accompanying physical ailments away. It is a good technique to master.

Several years ago, I opened some shipping cases to inspect some systems that a contractor had built for us. I was disappointed, then I was upset, then furious. There were a bunch of tangled cables in the shipping cases with the systems. We had spent several million dollars for these systems, and tangled cables were not acceptable to me on that day.

My face turned red, I clenched my teeth, my veins popped out on my forehead. My blood pressure shot through roof. I did what anyone would do – I sat in front of the computer, put my hands on the keyboard, and shot a heated email to the manager of the contractor who had shipped me multi-million dollar systems complete with a set of tangled cables.

Several days later, I spoke to the manager of the contractor. My frustration had subsided as did his. We calmly discussed the tangled cables and how that would never happen again. I told him about my raised blood pressure. He admitted that his blood pressure went through the roof when he read my email. It seems that I had high blood pressure, I sent him an email, and then he had high blood pressure. Aha,

I had emailed him high blood pressure.

I had never emailed something physical to anyone before. Given this experience, I concluded that you can email almost any thing to some else – especially an emotion or a physical response related to an emotion. For example, I can email:

• anger
• love
• hate
• laughter

and going along with these, I can email:

• high blood pressure
• headache
• nausea
• back ache
• bad digestion
• and the opposite of these

Here is a solution to what ails me.

1. Create an email address at one of those free email address places
2. email bad feelings or response to that address
3. all is well

There is, however, a trick to this. I have to email away all the bad feeling. It is not good enough to email some of the bad feeling or to share the bad feeling via email. I have to email away all the bad feeling. I can’t hold onto any of it.

If I were good at this emailing away my troubles, I would learn how to do it without actually sending the email. I could just imagine that I emailed away the troubles. Maybe a few more years of practice and I’ll be able to do that. For now, I’ll use email.

by Dwayne Phillips

From June 28th through July 3rd, I had the privilege of being on a raft on the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. This was part of a family trip “for the guys.” On a trip put together by my father-in-law Allan, his two sons, me (a son in law), my three sons, two other grandsons, one grandson-in-law, and one great grandson spent five days and five nights on the Colorado River. These blog posts are part of the story.

I was all wrong on clothes for the rafting trip. I was fortunate to have the basic items that would work. I had the impression of camping at the end of the day, bathing in the river, changing into a new set of clothes of the evening, and changing again in the morning into river clothing.

None of that worked.

The biggest killer of my plan was the cold water. I did not take a bath in the river in the evening; the water was too cold. Still, I had to deal with the hot sun in the long day.

Plan B: The water was cold and the sun would burn you. So on day 1 I wore sandals, swim trunks, a hat, a tee shirt, and a windbreaker jacket. This gave me pretty good cover from the sun and enough ventilation in the hot afternoon. The windbreaker, however, was a bit warm.

So on day 2 I switched from a windbreaker jacket to a lightweight long-sleeve shirt over the tee shirt. This was the uniform for the rest of the week: sandals, swim trunks, a hat, tee shirt, and a long-sleeve shirt. Liberal, twice-daily doses of sun block kept the bare parts of my legs, feet, and head from burning. Other members of the raft wore different combinations of the same basic outfit.

After doing this trip once, I have a recommendation. I will live dangerously and extend this recommendation to both males and females.

• swimsuit, quick dry (under everything)
• quick-dry long pants
• quick-dry long-sleeve shirt
• tee-shirt, quick dry
• hat, quick dry
• sun glasses
• sun block on all skin that is not covered

When you come to a nice warm stream, you can remove the outer garments and swim.

Please note, this was the last week of June and first week of July. I understand that some people raft the Grand Canyon in the spring and fall. In those cooler seasons, I would replace the outer shirt and pants with a rain suit for more protection from the cold water.

by Dwayne Phillips

From June 28th through July 3rd, I had the privilege of being on a raft on the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. This was part of a family trip “for the guys.” On a trip put together by my father-in-law Allan, his two sons, me (a son in law), my three sons, two other grandsons, one grandson-in-law, and one great grandson spent five days and five nights on the Colorado River. These blog posts are part of the story.

Friday July 2nd, the afternoon – it was hot, dry, and windy. It is hot, dry, and windy every afternoon in the floor of the canyon during the summer. The sun heats the rock walls of the canyon all day. By afternoon, the heat from the rock walls rises. Something must replace that rising air, so wind blows into the canyon, usually from down river to up river.

This afternoon was the hottest of the week. That was no surprise as we had traveled some 200 miles down the river during the week. The sun burned extra hot, and the wind blew extra strong (at least 30 miles per hour) and hot. Most days the afternoon “breeze” felt like a blow dryer in your face. This afternoon it felt like a blast furnace, like the heat from the 400 degree F asphalt I worked while in college when I was much younger and far more resistant to such.

Ahead of us was an evening camped on a sandy beach. We all quickly surmised what that would be like. Strong winds while sitting on a chair in the sand. We were going to be sand blasted. This was one of those occasions when you are right no matter how hard you prayed to be wrong.

We pulled ashore at a camping spot at 6 PM. The lead river runner assured us that the wind would die down. That made sense. As the sun set, the rocks would cool, the heat rising would slow, and the hot winds would slow as well. We all knew too well that sometimes nonsense happens, so we had our doubts.

As usual, we unloaded the rafts, erected our cots, and to break the usual we didn’t unpack anything from our duffel bags. There was no use having our personal belongings coated with the blowing sand. Instead, we sat in the usual circle of chairs, drank water and lemonade, and munched on Chex mix.

The hot wind blew the sand as predicted. We sat there, munching Chex mix, speaking little, and being coated with sand.

This was miserable.

Some of us complained to one another. “Surely there was a better campsite somewhere. Why didn’t we keep going? What was wrong with the river guides? How we were to eat a supper full of sand?”

Fatigue from a week of restless nights and an afternoon of blast furnace winds conquered many in the camp.

I remember talking with brother-in-law #2 at about 7 PM. We knew we were to leave the camp site at 8 AM and would be out of the canyon an hour after that. “All we have to do,” I said in a vain attempt to reassure, “is make 13 more hours. Just 13 hours.”

The longest hour of the rafting trip stretched into two hours – two miserable hours of being covered with sand and praying for relief.

Just as the lead river runner had predicted, at 8 PM the wind subsided. It didn’t quit, but it did lessen. The sand quite blowing as well. Perhaps all the blow-able sand had been blown onto us, and perhaps the wind was no longer strong enough to blow sand. Whatever the reason, we were able to eat dinner without swallowing sand.

A good meal does wonders when you are tired. We were tired, and we had a good meal. The longest two hours were over. We still struggled through a restless night, but by 10 AM the next morning we had taken a shower and were about to fly to Las Vegas.

by Dwayne Phillips

From June 28th through July 3rd, I had the privilege of being on a raft on the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. This was part of a family trip “for the guys.” On a trip put together by my father-in-law Allan, his two sons, me (a son in law), my three sons, two other grandsons, one grandson-in-law, and one great grandson spent five days and five nights on the Colorado River. These blog posts are part of the story.

One morning the river runners pulled the two rafts next to one another and stopped the engines. Andy, the river runner on our raft, stood and read a poem from a small paperback he had. The poem was about the Bureau of Reclamation, Floyd Dominy its director, and the Glen Canyon Dam.

People who live in the the Four Corner’s region often speak of the Glen Canyon Dam. They speak of the golden age of dam building in America in the 1960s. Some people have little good to say about dams. Some have little good to say about people in Washington D.C. deciding how people in the west should live. Other people have more good to say. Dams have shaped the economy here for the past half dozen decades.

Andy read a long poem about “the bureau boys” and Floyd and their dreams of calm water (lakes behind dams) and house boats. Then the poem turns dark or heroic depending on your point of view. The poem describes those who dream of using TNT to remove Glen Canyon Dam and create Dominy Falls.

The poem is called Floyd’s Void and was written by Vaughn Short. It is found in a book titled Raging River Lonely Trail, Tails Told by the Campfire’s Glow. I doubt you will see this book in a book store. You might see it in an outdoor supply store frequented by hikers or river runners in the Four Corner’s region. I found a copy through a used bookseller online – alibris.com.

Here are a few lines:

There’s a breed of men who sit at their desks
And they like their water tame,
They like to dam the rivers up,
Then give the lakes a name
They do
Then give the lakes a name

So give three cheers for the bureau boys
And a special rah for Floyd.
He built his dam and he built it well

…

But there’s a breed of men both hardy and few
Who lie at night on the lonely bars
And there beneath the glittering stars
They dream of TNT
They do
They dream of TNT.

…

They dream of a mighty boom and a quake.
They dream of a swirl in a vanishing lake.
They dream of a river wild and free,
Freed from its shackles by TNT
Sweet bliss
Freed from its shackles by TNT.

Now! Let’s have three cheers for the boys on the bars
Who dream their dreams ‘neath the glittering stars.
Who dream of a wild and wonderful treat –
A house boat running Dominy Falls at a million second feet
Ah yes
A house boat running Dominy Falls at a million second feet!

These lines are famous in a few circles of people who live in the region. My sons and nephews will never forget the three cheers for the bureau boys line. Perhaps they don’t appreciate the poetry, but they will share the memory.

by Dwayne Phillips

From June 28th through July 3rd, I had the privilege of being on a raft on the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. This was part of a family trip “for the guys.” On a trip put together by my father-in-law Allan, his two sons, me (a son in law), my three sons, two other grandsons, one grandson-in-law, and one great grandson spent five days and five nights on the Colorado River. These blog posts are part of the story.

There were five guides on our rafting trip (see the cast in this post). Well, two river runners, one guide, and two helpers. As best as I could determine, the guide was a river-runner-in-training, and the helpers were on the trip without pay. The trip was their pay.

These five people worked hard. They woke first in the morning to prepare breakfast and went to bed last at night after ensuring that everyone else was settled for the night.

The passengers – the other 26 of us – helped. We carried our camp gear and our water-proof duffel bags to the shore in the morning and carried the same away from the shore in the evening. We set chairs in the evening, and collected them in the morning. The crew, however, did at least twice as much loading and unloading of the rafts. And on top of all that, when worn out, they prepared meals for us. There were no cooks along for the trip to do nothing but cook.

The crew did all of this heavy and tedious work everyday for one thing:

they love being on the river.

The river runners are paid money, but that isn’t it. They are certainly not paid enough to work this hard. The helpers were there for no pay other than being on the river.

I sat in the rear of our raft each day (Hey, I’ve been wet before and had plenty of adventure in my life. I left the bouncing and splashing to my sons and nephews.). I talked a lot with Andy and Scott. I listened a lot as the two of them talked. Scott is married to Andy’s cousin, and they have many shared experiences. They talked about this river and that river and some other river. I don’t know rivers, but I know something about expressions of joy on faces when people reminisce. Scott and Andy reminisced. They had been on rivers in Utah, Idaho, Wyoming, Montana, New Mexico, and even some east of the Mississippi.

One afternoon Scott took a short nap. When we woke, he was a bit disappointed. “I’m on a boat in the Grand Canyon and I was sleeping…but I woke up on a boat in the Grand Canyon.”

Scott was a good whistler. He could whistle Amazing Grace like no one else.

I listened on shore as the guides in the other raft spoke of similar experiences. I watched as they helped people on our hikes in side canyons. They dove into those walks; they dove into the water in the creeks. They loved it all. They lit up when they saw someone else love what they love – the river.

by Dwayne Phillips

There is always one more solution. Sometimes we just need a little more of this or that to see it. And when people claim no more solutions, they are telling us all sorts of things.

I liked Seth Godin’s recent blog post. In it, Seth wrote:

The only possible response … isn’t.

Well said. This is a variation on something that has been said in several ways in several places.

There is always at least one more solution.

These sayings are good to use as a consultant. When the consultant hears one or a variation of one of these, the consultant should know that the person speaking is saying:

• (1) I am tired,
• (2) I have a headache,
• (3) I want to go home and take a nap,
• (4) my boss is killing me,
• (5) my wife is ill and she needs me at home,
• (6) I hate this job and I want to quit and get another one,
• (7) I have an artificial time line that is stopping me from thinking,
• (8) my artificial budget is at or below zero,
• (9) my bonus depends on a solution today
• (10) and I don’t think it would be hard to add to this list

There are more solutions to a situation. Most of them we just don’t know…yet. Some time, rest, food, and recreation usually increases the list of solutions. Sure, some of them won’t fit in the constraints of the situation. Well, at least we don’t know yet how they will fit in the constraints.

You see, once you buy the basic statement, all sorts of possibilities open.

Life, however, is often easier if we close all possibilities but a few. It is easier to think about a few things; it is easier to work hard on just a few things. Working hard is a good thing, but it is a poor excuse for stopping thinking. Then again, must excuses for stopping thinking are poor.