boblog

I had a really good idea for a blog topic. Trouble is, the idea came to me about 4:00 am this morning. Of course, in true moron form, I just assumed I’d remember it when I woke up.

Didn’t.

So…instead of a rant on one of my favorite communication soap boxes, I just want to tell you about an idea I learned this week from Michael Combs. This guy: http://combs.podomatic.com/

He’s Mr. Positive. Mr. Yes You Can but not in an annoying kind of way. More of a why-not-what-have-you-got-to-lose-when-else-are-you-going-to-do-it kind of way. Never pushy. Always supportive. And, always, with a smile. He’s just that way.

But what I learned this week was probably the most important thing I’ve learned all month if not longer:

Be thankful.

For everything in general and a million things in particular.

On his advice, I’m practicing being thankful at least once a day. He’d prefer you do it much more often but, secretly?, I think he’s forgotten about human nature. And, of course, I suspect that’s just what he want to counter.

So, here’s what he taught me to do. Start a thankful notebook. Every day, write down ten things for which you are thankful. Three to four times a day is better, but ya gotta start somewhere.

At the top of my little, sprial notebook (you know, those little pocket-sized ones?), I write “Today date I am thankful for:”, I write (draw, squiggle, smudge) ten bullets, then fill in each one with something I’m thankful for.

Each day is different from the day before. I’m up to day three so far.

But, I’m committed. Because, really, how can you move on into the unknown without having a firm foundation on the things for which you are most thankful?

I’m just sayin’….

A full week of effort after some time off in Florida…it’s exhausting. Maybe the French have the right idea with their short work-week.

Seems like there was lots of driving this week. An LHH class here, a career networking event there, and some final cleanup at the storage unit. Am scheduled to be completely storage unit free by the end of the month. Have sold several treasures, gave some away, and have numerous other golden items still on Craigslist. Come on…somebody needs to buy those 16 old wooden windows. You know you want them!

Ok, this is supposed to be a blog about writing, communication, and general nonsense. Think I’ve covered the latter pretty well lately so let’s pull over here to the scenic lookout and take a gander at a pet peeve. (What? You thought this was always sweetness, and ribbons, and puppies?)

In addition to the gorgeous view from our lookout spot, there’s dead horse in the brush that needs some additional beating. It’s the which horse. Or, the that horse.

I’m not sure when it happened, but people who should know better have hijacked the word that, are keeping it bound and gagged in the basement, and have trotted out the word which as a suitable replacement.

It’s not.

Which is an adjective. You use it to indicate a choice: I can’t decide which shoes to wear.

That is, primarily, a pronoun: That is the tool you are looking for.

I know, there are exceptions. The word that is a complex little bugger. It can be a pronoun, adjective, conjunction, or adverb. Which, it’s cousin, needs less therapy but does, on occasion, crop up as a pronoun but (buckle up ’cause here it comes) it shouldn’t. (“He is the man that started it,”  is just wrong. It should be “He is the man who started it.” He is a who, not a that, a which, or an it.

Which and that should never be pronouns. People are who. We always were, we always are, we always will be who. To substitute which or that for who denigrates and marginalizes people and I don’t think that’s very nice.

My gut feeling is that somewhere back in the late 21st century, marketing , newspaper, and broadcasting people started substituting which for that because they thought it sounded better; more intellectual. Well, it doesn’t. It sounds like you don’t know the difference between which and that, not to mention who.

Don’t believe me? Start listening to the words people use on TV and radio, in newspapers and magazine, and in your office communication. Count the number of times you hear the words which and that and see which one leads the pack.

And, don’t tell me “Oh, it doesn’t matter. They’ll know what I mean.” No, they won’t. At least, the one’s who learned the rules of grammar won’t because your meaning is unclear based on your sloppy choice of words. You have purposefully muddied your meaning.

Remember,  your goal is clear, concise, precise communication. Anything else is dishonest.

So, stop it. Use which to designate a choice. Use that to identify a thing. Use who when referring to people.

Let’s get on down the road and enjoy the view and the journey and leave this poor horse alone. Don’t make me stop this car and go over there again.

It’s surprisingly easy to get up very early when you have to be at the airport and checked in by 7:15 am. Some internal clock goes off inside your brain, at least it does in mine, and I usually wake up well before the alarm clock reminds me it’s time in that gentle way it does.

Had a great visit with daughter and s-i-l at their house just outside of Orlando. Funny, we left DFW with a forecast of 104 degrees only to go to Florida where it was actually cooler. Mid-90s mind you, but cooler. And, it rained nearly every day, so that helped.

Got see the old car show in downtown Kissimmee (six cars total, I think). Not much of a show really. More of a parked-by-the-curb-and-take-a-look-if-you-want affair. Stopped in at the local art studio for a meet-the-artists open house. Didn’t meet any of them and no one spoke so I’m not sure what that was all about except for the free wine and cheese for some. Paitings were eh, anyway.

Too much excitement there so we drove over to Ricardos’s and Janette’s new house for Aunt Lilo’s 84th birthday party. R&J just moved in that week but it was a good-sized place for all to gather. They have a pool, which gave the disaffected yutes a place to hover away from the menacing adults. Best of all, though, the house is on the canal that connects to Lake Toho (I think that’s the Kissimmee lake name). Blackest water I’ve ever seen but swift and deep with sandy banks. Still seems odd to see all that sand instead of black gumbo. It’s like a whole ‘nother state!

Helped install a rain barrell at the kid’s house. Connected a 55 gallon plastic barrell to one of the downspouts of the house guttering. By the time we left Monday morning, the barrell was full and overflowing from only a couple of small rain showers. Just goes to show you there’s an enormous amount of water that runs off the roof even from a small downpour. Glad they don’t have an HOA! There’s no telling what kind of turmoil that would cause! Don’t get me started… I can’t think of any more useless organization on the face of the planet. Oops, did I say that out loud?