Wizbits From Dad

You Can Run Out of Gas, But You Can NOT Run Out of Oil.

Among the vehicles I had or shared with my brothers, three of them had serious engine problems including “thrown” rods, cracked pistons and “busted” blocks. One summer, my younger brother, Tim, and I had spent two weeks at summer camp and, upon our return, could not wait to get on our mini bike and GO! By the time the car rolled to a stop, I had the door open and was headed for the mini bike. I pulled the starter cable a couple of times, revved the engine, and took off across the back yard. I had gone about 30 or 40 feet when it came to an abrupt stop. The engine had locked up. It seems that during the last two weeks, my youngest brother had ridden it constantly, conveniently forgetting to ever check the oil. That was our only rule about the engine: Check the oil BEFORE you ride it. Since I was riding it, and didn’t check the oil first, it was my fault. We kept the frame for a while and rode it like a “Flintstones” bicycle, pushing it with our feet, but the engine was trashed and we never replaced it.

Dad was quick to respond with a gentle “I told you so” adding the now famous words: “You can run out of gas and you’ll just stop, but you can NOT run out of oil, it will ruin the engine.” I think he elaborated by emphasizing that if you were ever faced with the option of buying gas or getting the oil you need, get the oil.

The words came back to haunt me later with the Cushman, the English Ford, and lately with a gas powered weed eater, but each of those times, I had some oil. (Well, maybe not quite enough with the Cushman.) I think I’m fairly unique now. I don’t know many people who have survived blowing up four engines without racing cars! Now, I always try to remember to check the oil!

Once again, it turns out (I know you’re surprised!) that people are a little like cars. Most people get their gas in the form of food and paychecks (or whatever makes them “go”). The oil may take different forms, but for everyone, there is that one special ingredient that makes them work well. A special additive that keeps them working smoothly without excess friction, keeping them from wearing down under the pressures and constant explosions to which they are exposed in life. For one person, it might be a quiet time each day that refills his crankcase. For someone else, it might be the kind words she hears from others. Still others might need constant “oiling” in the form of praise or compliments to overcome their low self-esteem.

Whatever it takes, be sure to “check the oil” with the people you know and with whom you work, live, etc., on a regular basis. When you find it’s low, add a quart of love or a pint of cheer, whatever it takes to bring the level back up to a safe condition again. As Mr. Goodwrench might say, “You’ll get years of service out of your car when you use good preventive care and maintenance.”

And as Dad would say, “…you CAN’T run out of oil.”

If You Want to Get Better, Practice!

Throughout my childhood I tried a lot of things. I still consider myself sort of a “Jack of all trades and master of none.” Often, when trying something new, I would become frustrated because I wasn’t very good at the thing I was doing. Dad would reassure me with the simple phrase: “If you want to get better, you have to practice!”

It sounds simple, I know, but knowing that it is true and actually being willing to follow through to get there are two completely different things. I took piano lessons for a while when I was in elementary school. If you have taken piano lessons, or live with someone who has taken them, you know that it requires hours each week of practicing. Each little run or song has to be played over and over and over… until you get it right every time. It’s that practice that makes the difference.

The story is often told of a great pianist who was complemented by a fan. The woman, obviously overwhelmed, commented: “Sir, you play so beautifully… I would give my life to be able to play like you do!”

The accomplished pianist replied, “Madam, I did.”

Being good at something rarely comes easy. It requires really working hard at it until you get it right every time. You don’t have to look far in the sports arena to see this put into play every day. One might think that professional players have finally “arrived” when they get the multi-million dollar contracts to play for us. But if you look closely, you’ll find them on the practice field as much as (or more than) the would-be-hopefuls who plan to take their place one day.

Of course, this little wizbit comes in handy for just about every thing you do. Learning to drive, play any sport or game, using computers, being a parent… whenever you’re in need of getting better at anything, practice is the answer.

Our society is filled with get rich quick schemes, promises of instant gratification, easy way out programs, and any number of promises that you can have it NOW! But most of these are just scams to get your money. What it really boils down to is the empty promise that you really don’t have to practice to get better. And it’s just not true!

It is true that there are ways to make your practice more effective, but the idea that practice is not necessary is always counter-productive. Dad knew it, and now, I know it. If you really want to learn to be good at something, you’d better get ready to practice it. Otherwise, you’ll just be another amateur who is only mediocre.

The next time you realize that you’re not as good at something as you would like to be, just remember that if you really want to get better, you have to practice.

We Can Make Time to Play

Dad was always very busy. He still is. Early in my life, Dad was a traveling route salesman. Mostly, he would go out for the day, sell along a route and return later that evening. Later, he and my grandfather (along with my mother and grandmother) were building a business and it required long hours and many six-day work weeks. It would be easy at this point to say that Dad didn’t spend any time with us. But it wouldn’t be true.

Dad was really good at finding things to do that were not expensive, yet very memorable. Even with Dad’s busy schedule, he and Mother took time to take us on trips, vacations, Sunday afternoon drives and other outings that we fondly remember.

Sunday drives were often the most memorable. Some of the ones I remember included: driving on old country roads until we crossed a creek, then stopping and pulling off our shoes so we could catch crayfish or tadpoles; hiking through the woods along an old train track to a waterfall and taking pictures as we played in the water; and just driving around until we got hungry and getting to stop at an old country store to get a “setup,” which was really just a soda or a popcicle. He got banana flavored popcicles if possible! And he always got all of us the same flavor. That way, there were fewer arguments about who got what!

We also took time most every year for some sort of vacation. These included camping across Tennessee and Alabama; trips with our extended family to the Gulf at Pensacola, Gulf Shores, Dauphin Island, Panama City and other places; driving through the Smoky Mountains and various other trips. Wherever we went, we discovered things. We were able to do and see things that I’m convinced others weren’t allowed to do. Because Dad knew how to do them. Sometimes, he would get us a pass to see behind the scenes of an amusement park, or, he would drive right past signs that said “No Trespassing!” which would drive us and my mother crazy.

But we would also do spur-of-the-moment things that we’ll never forget. Things like: stopping at a mountain spring on the side of the road and going swimming in it; passing a steam tractor and stopping to find out how it worked as the owner fired it up; stopping our boat in the middle of a mile-wide lake and just jumping in to swim (with God-only-knew-what swimming beneath us!); catching a ride on a tugboat pushing a barge and riding it from one dam to the next, making passage through the lock. These are just a few of the things we got to do because Dad wanted us to experience life.

I hope my children remember things we do with the same enthusiasm and excitement that I have. I guess my brothers and I fought and carried on while Mother and Dad tried to force us to see these wonders, I know my kids do, but that’s not what I remember. I remember Dad taking the time to show us the world.

If You Want Juicy Tomatoes, You Have to Give Them Plenty of Water

Mother is a real whiz with anything green; she has received many ribbons and awards for her flowers and arrangements. I once took her a plant that I was sure was dead and asked her to keep it for me. During a storm, the whole plant seemed to have been blown away! It was leveled! When I came back later, it had completely revived! I asked her what she did and she said she just watered it.

Dad was an amateur farmer. But he seemed to be really good at growing one thing: Tomatoes. He got it honestly… his dad was a champion tomato grower. They knew all the names and varieties and what grew best here or there. Personally, I hated them, at the time, but was interested in how they grew them. Wherever we lived, Dad made a point of finding a spot to plant his tomatoes.

Over the years, I noticed enough to realize a few things about tomatoes. First of all, LOCATION! Find a sunny spot, dig deep before you plant the starter plants, and most importantly: “If you want juicy tomatoes, you have to give them plenty of water.”

As we moved from one house to another, Dad would engineer different ways to provide water to the tomato plants. At one house, he just watered them everyday. The water would seep down into the dry brown earth and often Dad would connect a sprinkler to the hose and let it “rain” on the plants for hours. He would dust them with Ortho and look for bugs, place sticks or fence wire around them to tie the vines with strips of old cloth just to keep the fruit off the ground. He really took good care of them.

We all pitched in. Mother would keep watch and make sure they lived and thrived. We would watch anxiously for the blooms, then the green tomatoes, counting them as they appeared. Finally, the days would come when we could go out and pick the reddest ones for the harvest. Often, we would get over anxious and Dad would have to line the kitchen window with a row (or two… or three…) of green tomatoes with reddish areas on them to let them ripen in the sunshine that came through the window.

At another house, Dad planted the tomatoes and along the side of them he “planted” some four inch concrete pipes vertically in the ground. I was interested and confused. Dad explained that by filling up the pipes with water, it could soak down to the roots of the tomatoes without running off down the hill. The water could go right where it needed to be.

Still another house provided the most interesting way to water the tomatoes. We lived on a slough (an inlet) off a large lake on the Tennessee River. Our property had a seawall with a sidewalk across the width of the yard. Dad planted the tomatoes right across the sidewalk from the lake. With a little growth, the tomatoes began to water themselves by having their roots right down at the water level. Since I didn’t eat them at the time, I can’t tell you for sure if they were the juiciest we ever had, but we did have plenty of them.

Now let’s see… how can I twist this into some big lesson for life? Well, it’s not hard to see quite a few parallels here, but I guess the main one is that tomatoes need a lot of water, and Dad was good at finding ways to do that. Otherwise, this one is a freebie.

Try Everything on Your Plate… Variety Is the Spice of Life!

When we were growing up, Mother tried to have a big meal for us every night. Along with bread and a meat item, a variety of vegetables were the regular fare. Occasionally, Mother would prepare a new dish or vegetable that we were not used to eating. Our usual response was to hold our noses and scream our standard line of “Eeeeeeeewwwwww! I don’t want any of that!”

The response we got varied from time to time from phrases like: “You need to clean your plate” to “You don’t have to eat it all, just make sure you try it.” In all these responses, what was always made clear to us was that the food Mother prepared was both tasty and nutritious.

Some nights we got a reprieve when Dad would admit that, as a child, he had not liked certain foods (like beets or squash). We appreciated our understanding ally; but most of the time, there was great “weeping and gnashing of teeth” as we were forced to try unthinkable dishes (well, they were unthinkable to us as kids anyway). Many tears were shed as we had our mouths pried open to try something we just knew we wouldn’t like.

Occasionally, the dish was something we really didn’t like, and maybe still don’t. However, as often as not, it turned out to be a food we absolutely loved. I specifically remember running out of the house one day as Mother prepared a new meal she was just sure I would like. I couldn’t stand the smell of it and threatened to throw up if I were forced to return to the house. How could any parent ask their son to try such a horrible thing?! I couldn’t believe they were asking me to try it! It was pizza. (Need I say more?) Each time we were given the opportunity to try something new, it offered us an opportunity to stretch our understanding about food, and life. One of the phrases we heard at times like this was: “Variety is the spice of life.” Although it meant little to us then, I have come to know more about how important that really is.

If we do the same thing every day, we soon learn to hate our lives. Change is not only a good thing, it’s absolutely necessary for us to enjoy our lives. Eating the same thing everyday or just getting in a rut with work, home or anything else, will cause us to be malnourished in a different sense. The spice is necessary for us to be able to enjoy the food of life.

When I Was a Child, I Spoke as a Child…

When I was in college in the mid to late 70’s, we had suffered through the “Hippie” reign. Because of this, the majority of the average college person’s wardrobe consisted of flare-legged jeans and T-shirts. About 90% of my wardrobe was made up of about five pairs of jeans and around 50 T-shirts with various designs and logos on them. I wore these just about everywhere I went.

I enjoyed dressing casually while in college and when I went home to work in the family business, I continued to wear my standard attire. My job in the family was not very well defined. I was the “Manager Trainee,” a job description that included just about anything Dad wanted me to do. He had in mind letting me work through each department in the business so that when the rotation was done, I would have a pretty good idea just what went on throughout the business. Looking back I think it worked pretty well.

While I was working in the warehouse, or driving the delivery truck, the T-shirts were quite acceptable for my daily uniform. There came a day, however, when Dad decided that I needed to grow up a little. To help me along, he encouraged me to dress more professionally. I still remember the day… I was wearing a T-shirt with a large Mickey Mouse on it. Dad called me to his office and asked me to close the door. I sat down and asked what he wanted. He said, “Carl, you need to do something about your clothes.”

Somewhat surprised, I asked, “What do you mean?”

He said, “Well, you dress like a kid… and you’re not a kid anymore. Remember what Paul said in the Bible? ‘When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I thought as a child, I understood as a child. But when I became a man, I put away childish things.’”

Well, I knew that it was from the Bible, and I knew it was true, but at the same time, I was crushed. I couldn’t believe that my own dad would give me a hard time about what I wore to work! Disgruntled, I left his office trying to figure out how I could circumvent this “command.” However, as I cooled down, I realized that Dad was right. The time had come for me to grow up and become a man… and that included dressing more professionally.

About that time, I was taking the Dale Carnegie Course in Human Relations. In that course, you learn to set goals and follow through with them. So I set a goal to replace my wardrobe with newer, more professional clothes. It was a big goal! I started small and with the help of some of my friends, the mission was accomplished.

It is somewhat true that “clothes make the man” and Dad knew that I would make a “better man” if I would learn to dress more professionally. I wonder if I would still be working in a warehouse if it weren’t for Dad and his insight.

Work Before Play

Not all of Dad’s Wizbits about work were as deep or so life-changing. There were many about work and all of them have helped me. One such wizbit came on a summer afternoon when I was about 14 years old. We lived about two miles from the Tennessee River where we tried to spend time boating and swimming as a family.

I had a friend who lived even closer to the river and had his own little boat with motor. This particular day, he had asked me to join him in his boat to go out on the river. I was excited to say the least, because I had never been out on a boat without adults. This could possibly mean I was growing up! I went to Mother and Dad to ask permission (or more likely, to tell them that I was going) and was confronted with a dilemma. It seems I had not yet gotten around to mowing the front yard and it was MY TURN. I begged and pled with them to allow me to do it later, but to no avail. The law had been laid down.

I had to get my work done before I was allowed to play. I was crushed, but, determined! I went out and mowed that yard more quickly than it had ever been mowed before. I practically flew over the grass, bouncing the mower over rocks and roots, barely touching the grass in some places. When I was done, I presented the results to receive my “ticket” to boating and went on my way.

This was just one of the times that I was taught this valuable lesson, but for some reason, it stands out in my mind. For whatever the reason, I’m glad it has stood so well. Throughout my life it has always been difficult to keep this principle. I often consider going out to “play” when there is work to be done, but whenever I do, the work keeps me from enjoying the play as much.

Of course there are times when play must be put before some work. There are times when we, as parents, must play with our children when there is laundry, dishes, cleaning, or any number of things that need to be done. And even children need to play sometimes when there are “work” things that they need to do. But ultimately, I think the point that Dad was making was that work is important, too, and it cannot be ignored just to please ourselves.

This world is full of the implication that we can and must have instant gratification. It simply is not the case. We neither need nor deserve this instant satisfaction. It is something that is pounded into our subconscious through television, print and radio advertising as well as from well-meaning peers. But true satisfaction and gratification only come through planning and working toward your goal.

Yes, there are ways that one can accomplish much through very little work. But the majority of these times, the success is not appreciated. The successful person often will not know how to appreciate the instant success and will “blow” it on more instantly gratifying items and end up with little or nothing. Work is an integral part of success. Even the “play” we afford ourselves is enjoyed even more when it follows a good work session.

Work is not the most important thing by any means. Neither is play, for that matter. There must be an equilibrium between the two. Dad knew that and did his best to teach us that valuable lesson.

You Can Do almost Anything if You Try

This wizbit was one of those less verbal/more demonstrated types that Dad taught me with his actions. Dad has never seemed to be intimidated by anything. I’m sure he was, at times, but he did a good job of hiding it. As far as we were concerned, Dad would attempt anything worth doing.

More than once, Dad took a little of nothing and made it into a thriving business. Faced with the odds, Dad often ignored them and went on anyway. Sometimes it worked out just right, other times, it was an uphill climb. But the important thing was that he tried, and usually succeeded.

Since I have coined this wizbit from what I think Dad was teaching me, I’ll explain why I used the word “almost” in it. Dad was always trying to get us to see the optimistic side of things. We were always looking at the down side of things and he would try to lift us up and raise our sights. We thought it was stupid, and so do our kids. (I hope we do as good a job as Mother and Dad did!)

With all this optimistic talk and encouragement, Dad was still realistic. He would let us know that there were limits to what we could, or should, do. These limits, though, were set more for safety’s sake or based on moral issues than due to our ability to perform the tasks.

As I have mentioned earlier, I am continually amazed at the things Dad can do. Most of these he does because he knows he can if he will just try to do them. These include: construction, engineering, wiring, heating/cooling/ventilation, inventing, selling, and the list that goes on and on and is still growing.

Dad did not teach me to do all the things I now can do. But he did teach me that I could do them… if I would just try to do them. I may never have as many accomplishments behind me as Dad does, but I will be able to do things that Dad may never be able to do, because Dad taught me to take what I have to work with and make it be the tool I need to succeed. As I work on various broken items, design and build a set of shelves, write programs for a computer, (even write a book!), I am continually amazed at what God and Dad have done for me. I don’t really understand how this information got passed over to me, but it did, and I am glad!

I think one of Dad’s favorite verses in the Bible must be Phillipians 4:13 that states: “I can do all things through Christ, who gives me strength.” The verse may not actually apply to some of the physical jobs that we do, but it is a source of strength and encouragement that you rarely find.

Thank you, Dad, for teaching me that I do not have to sit and allow things to happen to me, for showing me that there are opportunities around every corner, for showing me that I can do almost anything… if I’ll try.