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Much has been made of Randy Moss’ effort as a wide receiver for the New England Patriots last weekend. Moss has long been known as a mercurial star….at one moment looking like an intense, focused Hall-of-Famer, the next appearing to be disinterested, lazy and even pouty. As I thought about how Moss reacted to his reduced role in New England’s offense, I was reminded of an interaction I had with my dad many years ago.
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My dad is a singer/actor, and for years worked at an amazing dinner theater in Minneapolis. He had starring roles, minor roles, and even chorus roles. It was always a treat for me to go to the theater to see his shows. The pageantry, the music, the acting, the great dinners…I loved it.

It wasn’t always great for my dad.

While there were many shows he enjoyed, he often got stuck doing shows he genuinely disliked. When you’re killing yourself doing 8 performances a week for 6 months and you despise the content? Yikes. The conversation I had with him after watching one of his shows changed my life.

I went to the theater this particular evening with one thought…I was going to watch my dad throughout the entire show. He was in the chorus this time, so the focus was rarely on him. The musical had been running for several months, and my dad hated it.

From the opening overture to the closing curtain, I watched my dad. Never, and I mean never, did he lose one ounce of focus. He was always in character, always engaged. His energy and effort couldn’t have been more concentrated had he been the lead in a Broadway musical. I was dumbfounded.

After the show, I asked him how he mustered the emotional energy to deliver such a terrific performance despite his seemingly insignificant role in a production he had come to despise.

“Christopher, I am a professional.”

That comment brings tears to my eyes as I write it.

Thanks for being my living example, Dad. In an age of entitlement and narcissism, we’ve forgotten what you guys look like.

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When the big white car pulled up in front of our townhouse, I couldn’t have imagined how the moments that followed would affect my life.

I was 10 years old and we had just moved to Minneapolis. I was always a huge baseball fan. As an 8 year old, I was thrilled that my tonsillectomy was concurrent with the 1968 World Series….a series where my beloved Detroit Tigers erased a 3-1 deficit to defeat the St. Louis Cardinals behind Mickey Lolich’s 3 victories. Now in the Twin Cities, I wasn’t sure where my allegiance should lay.

I was throwing a tennis ball up and catching it when the well-dressed man stepped out of the car. He looked at me, smiled, and said, “Hey, you wanna play with a real ball?” I was elated as he threw me the ball, then walked to a townhouse three doors down from ours.

When I looked at the ball, it was the genuine Major League Baseball article! The ball had obviously been used in a game, since it had a black streak on it. Wanting to fit in to my new hometown, I wrote “Harmon Killebrew Home Run Ball” in green ink on the ball. I still tremble with excitement when I think of that moment!Rod

That evening at the dinner table, my mother said, “You know who’s moving in across the street? Rod Carew!”

What??

The guy who threw me the ball was Rod Carew? THE Rod Carew?? And I wrote Harmon Killebrew’s name on his ball?

In the next several months, when our paths would cross, Rod was amazingly nice to me. Once, while sitting in a car waiting for my dad on a rainy day, Rod knocked on the window of the car and handed me a baseball personally autographed by the entire team. He also took us into his apartment and showed us the silver bat he earned by winning his first batting title.

Years later, my family was dining at a local restaurant when my brother noticed Rod and his wife. I nervously approached his table to say hello, and when he saw me, his face lit up and he said, “the little red-headed kid from St. Louis Park!” I couldn’t have been prouder that he remembered me.

There are many ways this encounter changed me. The most obvious is that I have been a rabid Minnesota Twins fan since that day! Not so obvious is a lesson I learned from Rod and then had reinforced by watching my gracious, locally famous mother. It’s a cliche, but it’s absolutely true:

A person who is nice to you but rude to the waiter, or to others, is not a nice person.

What’s true of waiters is also true of 10 year-olds. Thanks, Rod, for taking time out of your Hall of Fame career to make an lasting impression on a little kid. In his eyes, you’re a true hero.

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We live in an age where innovation is essential to get ahead and stay ahead. Whatever your business, you need it to compete. At the same time, we also live in an age where many people….perhaps most people…are risk averse. They don’t want to lose their job, their reputation or their free time because they stuck their neck out to innovate. It’s easier to leave things the way they have always been.

I am not the CEO of Microsoft, but I have had the opportunity to lead a great group of people for several years. As I have done that, I have struggled to find ways to accurately convey my desire for people to think and act differently.speedingticket2

A few years ago, my friend Craig Parker shared something with me that revolutionized the way I approach this as a leader. The phrase, “I’d rather give speeding tickets than parking tickets” has become a part of my everyday conversation…and I love it!

To be sure, there are times when I have to call people into my office and give them a ticket for moving too quickly or unwisely. Still, I try to make sure that I “high five” them as they walk out of my office….congratulating them for taking a chance.

It’s true that this philosophy will create a little chaos, and it certainly won’t work if you want to live in a high control environment. If, however, you want some new energy in your mission, I encourage you to release your people to “go for it”, even if it means giving out some speeding tickets.

But don’t forget the “high fives”!!

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“Who is Martin Luther King?”

It was an innocent question to the mother of an inquisitive 7 year-old. While she continued to make the bed, she patiently explained the character of the man. She spoke of his peaceful, non-violent demonstrations, of his inspirational speeches, and how his leadership had provided hope to millions of oppressed blacks all over the nation.

She turned and asked, “Why do you want to know?”

“I was just watching TV and a news man said Martin Luther King had just been assassinated.”
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My mother fell to the bed, struck by disbelief and grief.

I knew what the word “assassination” meant, and I knew Dr. King was an important guy, but what I didn’t know then was how personal it would become to me.

As the father of an African American daughter, I am keenly aware that where racial equality and racism are concerned, all is not entirely well. Still, I am grateful that Dr. King and others gave their lives to the cause of freedom. I am grateful for the progress we’ve seen in our country, progress that includes, no matter what you think of his politics, an elected black president. And I am grateful, most of all, for a beautiful daughter that has a world of opportunities opened to her…opportunities brought about, in part, by the life work of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

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Many years ago I spent 5 days in the wilderness as a part of an outdoor program. We hiked, rock-climbed, and repelled in one of our country’s most beautiful parks. It was a much-needed respite from the crazy-busy life I led, (and all too often still lead).

The last day of our trip, we were challenged by our guides to spend 24 hours completely alone in the nooks and crannies of the mountains. They put us in a spot where we couldn’t see a single human. (We were given geographic parameters that helped us stay out of site of each other.) I carried with me a pen, a journal and a Bible.

Alone. 24 hours. Alone.

The first few hours were torture. My brain just wouldn’t shut off. “I’m an extrovert! Where are the people?” Eventually I settled down and actually began to enjoy my forced solitude.

eagleFinally finding a comfortable perch on a rock, I turned to my right and saw an eagle flying high over a nearby canyon. For 15 minutes this magnificent bird mesmerized me as he soared effortlessly on the thermals. Up and down, left and right. Purposeful in every movement as he searched for prey.

The entire time I watched, I never saw him flap his wings.

In a moment, a bright yellow moth suddenly interrupted me as he darted just in front of my nose. He was the picture of activity, furiously batting his wings in the quest of…well…nothing. There were no plants or flowers anywhere near my rock. He didn’t land, and was, at that moment anyway, apparently void of any purpose at all.

But he sure was busy….

All is not as it seems, is it? My self-important busyness is often no more purposeful than the moth’s flight. I long for the peace and sense of direction of the eagle, but am I willing to lay aside my need to be noticed…my need to flutter colorfully in front of others?

What’s your story?

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Years ago I was firmly but lovingly removed from a position I held at work. Though my leadership believed in my future potential as a leader, they felt like I needed to grow personally, and that remaining in my current position would hinder that growth. They gave me no concrete hope for future advancement, but added that they saw a lot of potential in me if I’d be willing to walk the path of growth.

I responded exactly the way my 5 year-old daughter would….only with less maturity.

As I was living my little pity party, I ran across a friend I hadn’t seen in some time. I energetically laid out before him my tale of woe – being careful to chronicle all the wrongs done to me.. He listened patiently, then looked at me and said something akin to , “I’m sorry to hear that, but you now have a great opportunity.”

WHAT????

He continued, “You could continue going through your life the way you always have, being tripped up by the same difficulties. ax-grinding-jigBut the time you’re being given is a gift! Remember, the woodsman never wastes his time when he stops to sharpen his ax.”

Twenty-some years later, I couldn’t be more grateful for my friend’s words. He gave me a great gift….the gift of seeing the futility of pounding the tree of my life with a dull ax. Sure, I could continue to beat away at the trunk with what amounts to a sledge hammer, but I’d leave the stump discouraged and exhausted. With a sharp tool, I can cut through it with effort, but without frustration and discouragement.

Thanks, Rob, for giving me the gift of seeing trials as a growth opportunity and not as punishment.

What’s your story?

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The date was June 20, 1999.

I remember the date clearly because it was my mother-in-law’s birthday celebration, and everyone had gathered (as they always do) at her mother’s farm to honor her. It was also Father’s Day, and oh yeah….the final day of the U.S. Open at Pinehurst.

My wife’s family hails from Springfield, Missouri, and her aunts and uncles went to the same high school as Springfield native Payne Stewart. In fact, my wife’s grandmother and Bea Stewart, Payne’s late mother, were great friends.PS

If you watched the tournament, you may remember that there was another drama unfolding – off the course. Phil Mickelson’s wife, Amy, was due to give birth to their first child that same day, and Phil had already stated that he’d walk off the course if he heard she was in labor. The leaderboard ebbed and flowed, with playing partners Mickelson and Stewart both looking like winners at different times. What a great day it was!

Back on the farm, where 30 or so people crowded around a TV watching their favorite son, the emotions ran high. While there was sentiment for Phil, everyone wanted to see Bea’s boy win his 3rd major championship. They reached the 18th, where Payne ended up with a 25 footer to win. When he drained the putt, the crowd at Pinehurst didn’t have half the energy of the living room at the farm. I think they heard our roar in St. Louis!

While it was exciting to watch my wife’s family go nuts when Payne won, it was even more amazing to me to see Payne’s first words upon winning. He immediately walked over to Phil Mickelson, grabbed his face in his hands, and said, “you’re gonna love being a dad!”

Early in his career, Payne Stewart wasn’t known for being the most gracious guy. But he grew up, and on one of the world’s biggest stages, the character he developed over the years gave all of us something to aspire to.

I miss him.

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A few years ago, my friend Dave Fackler shared with me a conversation he’d just had with his then 17 year-old son.

Like most 17 year-olds, his son was experiencing brain-lock, and wasn’t seeing a particular situation clearly. In a moment of clarity I have yet to experience, Dave came up with an idea. “J.D.,” he said, “What would the 27 year-old version of you say to you right now?” Confused yet? What Dave was asking J.D. to do was to project himself into the future and give himself advice!

There are times in our lives where we just can’t seem to get ourselves out of the moment….we become paralyzed by decisions facing us. The future always seems murky, and looking ahead 2 years seems like an eternity. Looking behind two years, however, seems as quick as a wink. What if we could make decisions looking back? After all, isn’t “hindsight 20-20”?

Since Dave shared that story with me, I often try to imagine myself 5 years from now, lamenting what I wish I would have done….then I do it today!

Does that make sense to anyone but me??

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First of all, I am not saying what you may think I’m saying. This has nothing to with our political system and how we handle the problem of poverty and inequity. What I’m thinking about is a culture where constructive criticism and honest competition are seen as destructive, and where telling the truth, even in a gracious way, is unacceptable.

Let me make a disclaimer. The video below has a four-letter word in it that I don’t condone. (The “s” word.) I don’t use it, and I hope its use in this context won’t offend you. (Please don’t watch the video if you know it will.)

What I love about this video, however, is the way Brandon Marsalis speaks the brutal truth about the way we coddle each other, instead of challenging one another to excel. (This speaks powerfully to me, since I am pathologically positive.) He wants us to be honest with the naked emperor, which can be both dangerous and lonely.

If you’re okay with it, take a look at the video and let me know what you think…

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Really?

In this age of “don’t disrespect me!”, I have thought about this statement often. In fact, a few of us were talking about it over lunch the other day.

It’s true there are segments of society that will deny you respect out of hand – especially if you are a woman or an ethnic minority, You’ll never be taken seriously by certain people, and it’s a tragedy. This post is not directed at you.

Most of the time I hear this, however, I feel the way I do when my kids are complaining about some imaginary injustice….like too much homework or bad weather on game days or “I can’t believe I have to try the asparagus!”.

The truth is, most of us get exactly the respect we deserve….we just don’t get the respect we desire. In most situations, people have no motive to withhold from us the respect we long for, unless, of course, we are unworthy of it. For this reason, when I am feeling somehow disrespected, I first try to take a look in the mirror…and I’m often rewarded by staring the real problem right in the face.

Thoughts? Comments? I’d love to hear from you!