During a break on an HIP class for Joint Base McGuire, Dix, Lakehurst one of the participants handed me his iphone and said “check out Kanti’s movie.” I was floored when I saw a trailer open up for a major motion picture called “When Harry Tries to Marry”. Then, there he is in his yellow shirt and goatee, as the matchmaker, our friend Kanti Pandya.
Patrick Howell from our office introduced me to Kanti four years earlier. We all had lunch together and he shared his vision for a film to be shot partly in New York, and partly in India. I don’t think the film even had a title then. From Kanti’s enthusiasm for the vision statement I thought he was producing the film. As it turned out he was involved in securing the financing, but he was IN the film.
Since that time I have worked with Konti on one or two other occasions and his enthusiasm is contagious. I figured it was going to be a low budget independent film. I was wrong.
Kanti’s character is very funny. Watch the trailer at the link (click on the title "Movie Vision". Then rent the movie on line or at redbox and you will see what the power of a vision can accomplish.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Political Business Expectations
First let me be clear that my purpose here is business oriented, not political.
In teaching my Dale Carnegie corporate classes over the past few years, we have used a term that we call the "new business reality". Simply stated it is: "Do more, better, faster, and with less". When we ask for a show of hands as to agreement that it fits, we see about 90% of the hands go up. This is reality for most of us.
So here is my thought - if our companies expect this of us, why don't we as tax payers expect the same of our elected officials?
How about your mayor? Township officials? Board of Education? State Government? Let's draw a line in the sand and say to them "We the taxpayers expect you to do more, do it better, faster and with less, just like we have to in our businesses."
It would be refreshing to see some one run for the school board on the platform "I am for the taxpayer". Conventional wisdom would say that means that this candidate is against the children and their education. The new business reality would say that in fact this candidate is for more and better education with less spending.
Is it unreasonable to expect elected officials to live in the same reality as the rest of us? - I don't think so.
In teaching my Dale Carnegie corporate classes over the past few years, we have used a term that we call the "new business reality". Simply stated it is: "Do more, better, faster, and with less". When we ask for a show of hands as to agreement that it fits, we see about 90% of the hands go up. This is reality for most of us.
So here is my thought - if our companies expect this of us, why don't we as tax payers expect the same of our elected officials?
How about your mayor? Township officials? Board of Education? State Government? Let's draw a line in the sand and say to them "We the taxpayers expect you to do more, do it better, faster and with less, just like we have to in our businesses."
It would be refreshing to see some one run for the school board on the platform "I am for the taxpayer". Conventional wisdom would say that means that this candidate is against the children and their education. The new business reality would say that in fact this candidate is for more and better education with less spending.
Is it unreasonable to expect elected officials to live in the same reality as the rest of us? - I don't think so.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
The Instructor in the Tee Shirt
In suit pants and a tee shirt Bob Z. was loading class materials in to the hotel in Cape May when I arrived. I am not a suit and tie type myself, so I was delighted to see Bob carry in his shirt jacket and tie on a hanger.
We had met each other several times previous to this, but it was clear to me that we were going to click on this project.
Bob and I were tandem teaching this class and it was to become as much a foundation of a friendship, as well as a training experience for the small but mighty group.
As the sessions went on we learned to trust each others styles, and by session 8 or so it was more of a tag team delivery than a “which part are you doing?” approach.
The conversations prior to class, and the debrief following, were certainly my favorite part of the sessions in Cape May. One of the strengths I learned to respect in Bob is his ability to focus on each individual class member, and to not just remember, but “know” things about them. The level of care and concern for each individual’s growth inspired me to put more energy into listening to my participants at a deeper level.
There was an awesome sense of responsibility in Bob’s purposeful preparation and delivery of each session. This reminded me of the importance of the work we deliver in the class room.
This sense of purpose is part of Bob’s soul, it carries over into his personal life, and most importantly his family.
Bob grows in wisdom, as the years move forward. This wisdom is shared with all of us who come in contact with him.
It is a delight to work with Bob, and a joy to hang out with him.
I have heard it said that, “Our life is like a tree, and our reputation is the shadow the tree throws off”, Bob’s shadow is one of trust, respect, genuine concern, integrity, and a joy of life. It’s comforting to be in that shadow on a pretty regular basis.
We had met each other several times previous to this, but it was clear to me that we were going to click on this project.
Bob and I were tandem teaching this class and it was to become as much a foundation of a friendship, as well as a training experience for the small but mighty group.
As the sessions went on we learned to trust each others styles, and by session 8 or so it was more of a tag team delivery than a “which part are you doing?” approach.
The conversations prior to class, and the debrief following, were certainly my favorite part of the sessions in Cape May. One of the strengths I learned to respect in Bob is his ability to focus on each individual class member, and to not just remember, but “know” things about them. The level of care and concern for each individual’s growth inspired me to put more energy into listening to my participants at a deeper level.
There was an awesome sense of responsibility in Bob’s purposeful preparation and delivery of each session. This reminded me of the importance of the work we deliver in the class room.
This sense of purpose is part of Bob’s soul, it carries over into his personal life, and most importantly his family.
Bob grows in wisdom, as the years move forward. This wisdom is shared with all of us who come in contact with him.
It is a delight to work with Bob, and a joy to hang out with him.
I have heard it said that, “Our life is like a tree, and our reputation is the shadow the tree throws off”, Bob’s shadow is one of trust, respect, genuine concern, integrity, and a joy of life. It’s comforting to be in that shadow on a pretty regular basis.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Cold Weather Blues
The extreme cold has me dreaming of warm water and snorkeling. When ever I put on my dive mask this indelible memory flashes through my mind:
Tom and Jerry’s was the corner store in Seaside Park where my family vacationed when I was a kid. When we lived in the big gray house called “Camelot” on G Street, the store was a short walk from our house.
Seaside Park (or just Seaside as we called it), is on one of New Jersey’s barrier islands, which are long thin strips of land, running north and south, with the Atlantic Ocean on the east and Barnegat Bay on the west. The island is only four or five blocks wide, and Camelot was on the bay side, only two or three houses from the waters edge.
Every summer of my childhood was spent down the shore, at Seaside. We stayed in three different houses over 16 years, my favorite being “Camelot”. G Street is far enough from the boardwalk to be quiet at night, and close enough to be a pleasant walk to the “honkie tonk” (as my father calls the games and arcades of the Jersey Shore).
The house was up on pilings and had two levels. Most years, my Aunt Jo and her family would rent the downstairs, and we would rent the upstairs. Aunt Jo’s son, my cousin David, was one of my best friends. The place was big: three bedrooms, a large kitchen, and a living room, which led out to a huge screened in porch with a beautiful view of the bay. You could almost see the ocean when you looked to the east, but it was just a little lower than the horizon line.
With three bedrooms we had plenty of space. Mom and Dad had one bedroom, Grandmom Benson (my Mom’s mother), had another, and I had the one in the back of the house.
For a few years Grandmom lived with us in our home in Robbinsville, but she almost always vacationed with us down the shore. This was a summer that her presence with us made an indelible mark on my life. I don’t think she knew how powerfully a small gift could impact my future. It did, and I remember, and that is what I am going to tell you about.
When I was eight years old, one of my favorite television shows was “Sea Hunt” starring Lloyd Bridges. This was the first television show to feature scuba as a regular part of the action of the show. Lots of under water shots portrayed the under sea world as a mysterious and adventurous frontier. Watching Lloyd Bridges diving underwater, I just knew I had to see that for myself.
I wanted my own scuba gear in the most profound way.
“Two Guys”, a department store near our house had a mannequin with full scuba gear on it, in the sporting goods department. Every time my parents took me into that store, I had to go look at it. I stood there and dreamed of being Lloyd Bridges, and scuba diving off of our boat.
Dad refused completely, my frequent requests to “buy me the scuba gear please…” (it didn’t occur to my eight-year-old mind that the adult size would be miles too big for me). That didn’t stop the passion from burning. I just had to see what was down there!
Summer finally arrived. We went to Seaside, as usual. Aunt Jo wasn’t coming down until the next week. I was alone down the shore until David got there.
Several times over the first couple of days of vacation, I was sent to Tom and Jerry’s to get bread, milk, candy, ice cream or what ever the errand demanded.
Pay dirt.
Like a magnet I was drawn to the beach toy section of the store. There among the rafts, beach chairs, buckets, and shovels, on the bottom shelf, was a scuba mask. Miracle, of miracles, it was just my size. I had to have it.
Two problems: one, I had no money of my own; two, I knew my Dad was not about to finance this adventure. I was faced with despair.
Every time I went in the store, I would examine the dive mask, try it on, and imagine the undersea world that would open up to me if it was mine. Then I would purchase what I was sent for, and walk home in disappointment.
On one of these return trips home, Grandmom caught me at the door. Grandmothers have a sixth sense on these sorts of things, you know.
She asked me what was wrong. I explained the situation, and my reason for being so dispirited. I cried, big tears rolling down my cheeks. I really wanted to have that scuba mask.
Grandmom always had a way of turning my focus toward other things, which would get me out of my self-pity spiral. She did it again, and I forgot about my Lloyd Bridges crusade for the evening.
The next day, when Dad was out fishing, Grandmom called me into the kitchen. She said we needed some butter, and asked me to go down to Tom and Jerry’s for her. I said OK. She went into her room to get some money; she came out with two five dollar bills. She said to me “This one is for the butter, this one is for you to get that scuba mask.”
I ran all the way to Tom and Jerry’s. There it was on the shelf. White plastic skirt, rounded triangular lens, metal adjustment clip to make it fit right, and it was MINE! I paid the man at the counter, and took the butter, and my new scuba mask home. I left the butter in the bag, but I carried the mask like a religious relic.
That afternoon at the beach I was underwater more than I was on the surface. The lifeguard didn’t really like the idea; it was difficult trying to keep his eye on me when I kept diving down out of site. It didn’t look like the crystal clear water of the Caribbean, like on Sea Hunt, but I was down there, and I was entranced.
Since that day, I have always owned a scuba mask. In college I got my open water scuba certification. I have gone skin diving in dozens of locations in the Caribbean, and in Bermuda. I still love the silent world under the waves.
My Grandmom is gone, but the mark she made on my life that hot July day in Seaside will never be erased. Every time I don my mask to go diving, that memory bubbles up in my heart.
Never underestimate the long lasting power of the simple things you do for the people you love. With our actions, we leave indelible marks on each others lives.
Tom and Jerry’s was the corner store in Seaside Park where my family vacationed when I was a kid. When we lived in the big gray house called “Camelot” on G Street, the store was a short walk from our house.
Seaside Park (or just Seaside as we called it), is on one of New Jersey’s barrier islands, which are long thin strips of land, running north and south, with the Atlantic Ocean on the east and Barnegat Bay on the west. The island is only four or five blocks wide, and Camelot was on the bay side, only two or three houses from the waters edge.
Every summer of my childhood was spent down the shore, at Seaside. We stayed in three different houses over 16 years, my favorite being “Camelot”. G Street is far enough from the boardwalk to be quiet at night, and close enough to be a pleasant walk to the “honkie tonk” (as my father calls the games and arcades of the Jersey Shore).
The house was up on pilings and had two levels. Most years, my Aunt Jo and her family would rent the downstairs, and we would rent the upstairs. Aunt Jo’s son, my cousin David, was one of my best friends. The place was big: three bedrooms, a large kitchen, and a living room, which led out to a huge screened in porch with a beautiful view of the bay. You could almost see the ocean when you looked to the east, but it was just a little lower than the horizon line.
With three bedrooms we had plenty of space. Mom and Dad had one bedroom, Grandmom Benson (my Mom’s mother), had another, and I had the one in the back of the house.
For a few years Grandmom lived with us in our home in Robbinsville, but she almost always vacationed with us down the shore. This was a summer that her presence with us made an indelible mark on my life. I don’t think she knew how powerfully a small gift could impact my future. It did, and I remember, and that is what I am going to tell you about.
When I was eight years old, one of my favorite television shows was “Sea Hunt” starring Lloyd Bridges. This was the first television show to feature scuba as a regular part of the action of the show. Lots of under water shots portrayed the under sea world as a mysterious and adventurous frontier. Watching Lloyd Bridges diving underwater, I just knew I had to see that for myself.
I wanted my own scuba gear in the most profound way.
“Two Guys”, a department store near our house had a mannequin with full scuba gear on it, in the sporting goods department. Every time my parents took me into that store, I had to go look at it. I stood there and dreamed of being Lloyd Bridges, and scuba diving off of our boat.
Dad refused completely, my frequent requests to “buy me the scuba gear please…” (it didn’t occur to my eight-year-old mind that the adult size would be miles too big for me). That didn’t stop the passion from burning. I just had to see what was down there!
Summer finally arrived. We went to Seaside, as usual. Aunt Jo wasn’t coming down until the next week. I was alone down the shore until David got there.
Several times over the first couple of days of vacation, I was sent to Tom and Jerry’s to get bread, milk, candy, ice cream or what ever the errand demanded.
Pay dirt.
Like a magnet I was drawn to the beach toy section of the store. There among the rafts, beach chairs, buckets, and shovels, on the bottom shelf, was a scuba mask. Miracle, of miracles, it was just my size. I had to have it.
Two problems: one, I had no money of my own; two, I knew my Dad was not about to finance this adventure. I was faced with despair.
Every time I went in the store, I would examine the dive mask, try it on, and imagine the undersea world that would open up to me if it was mine. Then I would purchase what I was sent for, and walk home in disappointment.
On one of these return trips home, Grandmom caught me at the door. Grandmothers have a sixth sense on these sorts of things, you know.
She asked me what was wrong. I explained the situation, and my reason for being so dispirited. I cried, big tears rolling down my cheeks. I really wanted to have that scuba mask.
Grandmom always had a way of turning my focus toward other things, which would get me out of my self-pity spiral. She did it again, and I forgot about my Lloyd Bridges crusade for the evening.
The next day, when Dad was out fishing, Grandmom called me into the kitchen. She said we needed some butter, and asked me to go down to Tom and Jerry’s for her. I said OK. She went into her room to get some money; she came out with two five dollar bills. She said to me “This one is for the butter, this one is for you to get that scuba mask.”
I ran all the way to Tom and Jerry’s. There it was on the shelf. White plastic skirt, rounded triangular lens, metal adjustment clip to make it fit right, and it was MINE! I paid the man at the counter, and took the butter, and my new scuba mask home. I left the butter in the bag, but I carried the mask like a religious relic.
That afternoon at the beach I was underwater more than I was on the surface. The lifeguard didn’t really like the idea; it was difficult trying to keep his eye on me when I kept diving down out of site. It didn’t look like the crystal clear water of the Caribbean, like on Sea Hunt, but I was down there, and I was entranced.
Since that day, I have always owned a scuba mask. In college I got my open water scuba certification. I have gone skin diving in dozens of locations in the Caribbean, and in Bermuda. I still love the silent world under the waves.
My Grandmom is gone, but the mark she made on my life that hot July day in Seaside will never be erased. Every time I don my mask to go diving, that memory bubbles up in my heart.
Never underestimate the long lasting power of the simple things you do for the people you love. With our actions, we leave indelible marks on each others lives.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Book Review, Walking Through Illusion, by Betsy Otter Thompson
Betsy and I have never met. She contacted be a month or so ago and requested I review her book. She promised to return the favor and I agreed. I think I got the better end of the deal.
I would not likely have read this book otherwise.
As I often say of my own work it is not a Christian book, it is a book by a Christian Author. This book IS a Christian book.
First, make no bones about it, I like this book. One of my all time favorite books is Richard Bach’s book “Illusions, the adventures of a reluctant messiah”. In many ways for me Betsy O. Thompson’s work picks up where Bach left off, his character of Donald is a messiah, Thompson’s central character is The Messiah, our Lord Jesus.
In the preface the author makes a case for emotional accountability. We are responsible for what comes back to us. We create our own reality.
The convention that Thompson uses of a dialogue with Jesus conveys a contemporary voice to Christ. Growing up in the church the only voice of Jesus in my mind was that of his teachings in the Gospel. It is a didactic, parental, teachers voice, but not intimate and personal. Thompson’s Jesus is natural, conversational, accessible and Human. The book is like watching Jesus on the Charley Rose show.
Founded on the premise that Everything seen is illusionary, everything felt is real, the title of the book is explained early on. Once this context is understood, then what follows is an enlightened story, very entertaining and deeply spiritual.
The book is filled with little proverbs or “truths” including one I firmly believe - DISAPPOINTMENT COMES FROM THINKING
THAT LIFE SHOULD BE DIFFERENT.
ENJOYMENT COMES FROM THINKING
THAT LIFE IS WONDERFUL THE WAY IT IS.
The worksheets at the end of each chapter provide a wonderful way for the reader to interact with the ideas of the book. This increases the impact of the experience of reading by almost forcing the reader to think about how they feel about the ideas they just “heard”.
If you are a Christian you will enjoy this work. If you have a personal relationship with Jesus, you will love it.
I would not likely have read this book otherwise.
As I often say of my own work it is not a Christian book, it is a book by a Christian Author. This book IS a Christian book.
First, make no bones about it, I like this book. One of my all time favorite books is Richard Bach’s book “Illusions, the adventures of a reluctant messiah”. In many ways for me Betsy O. Thompson’s work picks up where Bach left off, his character of Donald is a messiah, Thompson’s central character is The Messiah, our Lord Jesus.
In the preface the author makes a case for emotional accountability. We are responsible for what comes back to us. We create our own reality.
The convention that Thompson uses of a dialogue with Jesus conveys a contemporary voice to Christ. Growing up in the church the only voice of Jesus in my mind was that of his teachings in the Gospel. It is a didactic, parental, teachers voice, but not intimate and personal. Thompson’s Jesus is natural, conversational, accessible and Human. The book is like watching Jesus on the Charley Rose show.
Founded on the premise that Everything seen is illusionary, everything felt is real, the title of the book is explained early on. Once this context is understood, then what follows is an enlightened story, very entertaining and deeply spiritual.
The book is filled with little proverbs or “truths” including one I firmly believe - DISAPPOINTMENT COMES FROM THINKING
THAT LIFE SHOULD BE DIFFERENT.
ENJOYMENT COMES FROM THINKING
THAT LIFE IS WONDERFUL THE WAY IT IS.
The worksheets at the end of each chapter provide a wonderful way for the reader to interact with the ideas of the book. This increases the impact of the experience of reading by almost forcing the reader to think about how they feel about the ideas they just “heard”.
If you are a Christian you will enjoy this work. If you have a personal relationship with Jesus, you will love it.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Summer Flew By
At the Dale Carnegie office here in Central New Jersey it was a little slow business wise this summer. I did get plenty of fishing in, and the time on the boat this year was enjoyable. My wife Heather and I are the tannest we have been in years (to the dismay of our dermatologist), from our days in the sun.
Now it is getting busy and I have to remind myself to be open to change and growth as a trainer. This is going to be for me a fall of re-inventing myself in the classroom. This story from my Brother-in-Law is a great reminder of what might be holding me back:
Stand Up
At the family lake house in Rochester New York Larry’s mother Mae, learned an important lesson about mental limitations.
The lake house is right on the water. Out back there is a dock that extends out into the lake. The dock is the traditional pilings in the lake bottom with a wooden deck type.
If anything, the dock is a bit thin in width. This makes it difficult for two people to pass by each other when walking on the dock. It also means that maintaining your balance, keeps you out of the drink.
This visit to the lake house was a hot summer day. Everyone was enjoying a cook out on the bank of the lake. The smell of hot dogs and hamburgers on the grill filled the air. Cold beer filled the cups, and lounging bodies filled the lawn chairs.
The water of the lake is crystal clear, so when you walk out on the dock, fish can often be seen swimming in water. Mae decided to go for a walk on the dock, to see what was lurking under the surface. She stood there for a good while enjoying the view. As she turned to head back, she lost her balance and fell into the water.
Mae’s head popped up, her arms flailed at the air, she screamed at the top of her lungs “help, help, I can’t swim. Help!” Larry’s dad panicked “somebody do something she’s going to drown”.
Just about this time, Larry came out of the house and witnessed the excitement. Knowing that Mae was in no real danger, Larry walked out onto the dock near where she was splashing around and calmly said “Mom, stand up for goodness sake, it’s only three feet deep”. Either she heard him clearly, or her feet managed to hit the bottom, because Mae did exactly what Larry suggested.
Mae stood there a moment, dripping wet, and shaking a little from her harrowing experience, but she was OK.
Mae’s fear, and panic came not from the actual situation, but rather from her self limiting perception. No doubt her thought process was something like this “Oh no, I fell in the water, I can not swim, I am going to drown”, This self imposed belief system, became a barrier to the simple solution of standing up in the relatively shallow water.
I think we all do this to ourselves from time to time. We learn what our limitations are, then we accept them as obstructions to keep us from achieving things beyond what we have convinced ourselves we can.
Richard Bach in his book “Illusions”, shares a quote that I think explains this self limitation best, he says: “argue for your limitations, and sure enough, they are yours”.
Now it is getting busy and I have to remind myself to be open to change and growth as a trainer. This is going to be for me a fall of re-inventing myself in the classroom. This story from my Brother-in-Law is a great reminder of what might be holding me back:
Stand Up
At the family lake house in Rochester New York Larry’s mother Mae, learned an important lesson about mental limitations.
The lake house is right on the water. Out back there is a dock that extends out into the lake. The dock is the traditional pilings in the lake bottom with a wooden deck type.
If anything, the dock is a bit thin in width. This makes it difficult for two people to pass by each other when walking on the dock. It also means that maintaining your balance, keeps you out of the drink.
This visit to the lake house was a hot summer day. Everyone was enjoying a cook out on the bank of the lake. The smell of hot dogs and hamburgers on the grill filled the air. Cold beer filled the cups, and lounging bodies filled the lawn chairs.
The water of the lake is crystal clear, so when you walk out on the dock, fish can often be seen swimming in water. Mae decided to go for a walk on the dock, to see what was lurking under the surface. She stood there for a good while enjoying the view. As she turned to head back, she lost her balance and fell into the water.
Mae’s head popped up, her arms flailed at the air, she screamed at the top of her lungs “help, help, I can’t swim. Help!” Larry’s dad panicked “somebody do something she’s going to drown”.
Just about this time, Larry came out of the house and witnessed the excitement. Knowing that Mae was in no real danger, Larry walked out onto the dock near where she was splashing around and calmly said “Mom, stand up for goodness sake, it’s only three feet deep”. Either she heard him clearly, or her feet managed to hit the bottom, because Mae did exactly what Larry suggested.
Mae stood there a moment, dripping wet, and shaking a little from her harrowing experience, but she was OK.
Mae’s fear, and panic came not from the actual situation, but rather from her self limiting perception. No doubt her thought process was something like this “Oh no, I fell in the water, I can not swim, I am going to drown”, This self imposed belief system, became a barrier to the simple solution of standing up in the relatively shallow water.
I think we all do this to ourselves from time to time. We learn what our limitations are, then we accept them as obstructions to keep us from achieving things beyond what we have convinced ourselves we can.
Richard Bach in his book “Illusions”, shares a quote that I think explains this self limitation best, he says: “argue for your limitations, and sure enough, they are yours”.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Beach Satire, post Memorial Day
This piece is titled "Hole Diggers". It is satire, and I wrote it sitting in my beach chair in Myrtle Beach SC a couple of years ago. I had just watched two people trip in holes that kids had dug in the surf.
Enjoy:
Warning! Watch out for the race of creatures known as Hole Diggers. They are dangerous and a menace to our beaches and shoreline.
These small creatures look like little human beings with large heads, which appear on beaches in mid June each year. Many people believe they come up from out of the sand when the sun warms the beach to a critical temperature.
Sometimes they are organized and work in teams, others are single units working individually. They all have some commonalities; Hole Diggers are usually wet, and covered in sand (often seen piling sand on themselves or others), they use tools such as miniature shovels and brightly colored buckets, in the absence of tools they are quite articulate with the use of their hands to dig holes.
Most often the Hole Diggers conduct their mischief right at the waters edge, but sometimes they choose to work in the dryer sand a few yards up from the surf line. It is clear that they value the depth and diameter of the holes they dig, the bigger the better.
Be certain of this, the Hole Diggers are malevolent in nature, they dig their holes and leave them hoping someone will fall into them and twist their ankle, knee, or worse. It has even been observed where a family of three Hole Diggers has successfully buried a man up to his neck, obviously they were trying to suffocate the poor unsuspecting fellow. Sure they are cute, but remember they are out to get you.
While strolling the waters edge watch out for the little buggers they will run right into you if you do not pay attention to them. Hole Diggers have no awareness of your presence and are random in their movements. Illogical and with great energy they run back and forth in the ocean wash. Pay attention, they will knock you over easily.
The best news of all is that the Hole Diggers vanish mysteriously right after Labor Day each year. It is much safer to go to the beach in late September or early October.
There is a theory that the Hole Diggers dig really deep holes at the end of the season and climb in with their tools, pulling the sand in over their heads. There they hibernate all winter long until the sun warms the sand again in the spring signaling their rise from the earth to reek havoc on beaches everywhere.
Some people say the Hole Diggers are mythical creatures like snipes. I know this is not so, I see them everywhere. The call of the creature usually sounds like “Mommee, Maaaaomee, Maaaaaaaaaaomee” many times repeated at a very loud volume, and seems to drive some women and men insane. Beware the Hole Diggers.
Enjoy:
Warning! Watch out for the race of creatures known as Hole Diggers. They are dangerous and a menace to our beaches and shoreline.
These small creatures look like little human beings with large heads, which appear on beaches in mid June each year. Many people believe they come up from out of the sand when the sun warms the beach to a critical temperature.
Sometimes they are organized and work in teams, others are single units working individually. They all have some commonalities; Hole Diggers are usually wet, and covered in sand (often seen piling sand on themselves or others), they use tools such as miniature shovels and brightly colored buckets, in the absence of tools they are quite articulate with the use of their hands to dig holes.
Most often the Hole Diggers conduct their mischief right at the waters edge, but sometimes they choose to work in the dryer sand a few yards up from the surf line. It is clear that they value the depth and diameter of the holes they dig, the bigger the better.
Be certain of this, the Hole Diggers are malevolent in nature, they dig their holes and leave them hoping someone will fall into them and twist their ankle, knee, or worse. It has even been observed where a family of three Hole Diggers has successfully buried a man up to his neck, obviously they were trying to suffocate the poor unsuspecting fellow. Sure they are cute, but remember they are out to get you.
While strolling the waters edge watch out for the little buggers they will run right into you if you do not pay attention to them. Hole Diggers have no awareness of your presence and are random in their movements. Illogical and with great energy they run back and forth in the ocean wash. Pay attention, they will knock you over easily.
The best news of all is that the Hole Diggers vanish mysteriously right after Labor Day each year. It is much safer to go to the beach in late September or early October.
There is a theory that the Hole Diggers dig really deep holes at the end of the season and climb in with their tools, pulling the sand in over their heads. There they hibernate all winter long until the sun warms the sand again in the spring signaling their rise from the earth to reek havoc on beaches everywhere.
Some people say the Hole Diggers are mythical creatures like snipes. I know this is not so, I see them everywhere. The call of the creature usually sounds like “Mommee, Maaaaomee, Maaaaaaaaaaomee” many times repeated at a very loud volume, and seems to drive some women and men insane. Beware the Hole Diggers.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)