My Story

Working

I took my first job at twelve, throwing papers daily for the five years preceding college. It was a family activity, with dad or mom shuttling me and sometimes my younger brother from neighborhood to neighborhood until I could drive. There were no days off for the family except for two overnight vacations. My brother covered for me during four college visits. I worked while contagious with chicken pox and I worked each Christmas morning. My family opened gifts, then stuffed post-holiday sale inserts into papers. It was a holiday tradition.

Life was very good, a third chapter in the generational farm, city, suburbia story. Although my father's side was in its third century in America, like many immigrants, we were excited by the dream of something better and motivated by a clear memory of something not so good ... southeast Washington, DC ... where the best and brightest aspired to drive a trash truck.

Running papers at 5:30 every morning, gave me the energy to read a unit ahead in Science after the four mile walk to school. It ensured I was awake and ready when the Bell Labs student van arrived. It ensured that the transition to 6:00 a.m. plebe summer exercise at the Naval Academy' would be the next best thing to vacation.

Indeed, a little early work ensured I was wide awake each day, ready to take advantage of everything life would throw my way.

What's in a Name?

Bill Poohak, a Booze Allen consultant once walked up to me and asked, "Why didn't you name TSM after yourself.?" He had noticed that monitoring and controlling the flow of intelligence communications in war time had earned the unit a seat at DIRNSA's (Director, NSA) morning briefing table. I had never attended the briefing, the seat was invariably filled by a more senior officer who dutifully took numbers pulled from TSM each day by a member of my team. I was a relatively junior Lieutenant in a Lt. Commander's position and was very happy to keep to the POCG, running the left handed staff meeting each day (all but one senior person in our organization was left handed).

"What would I call it, the Jones, System Monitor?" I asked Bill half chuckling. "it sounds like something I would get from a proctologist on a bad day."

Bill raised his hands, mildly exasperated. We had become friends over the last year.

I started to explain that I really didn't mind the fact that DIRNSA probably had no idea that I was the one who helped send MINIMIZE on its way to a fit and proper burial.

Then I just paused and said, "It's OK."

Gump

Lately I have started to see parallels between my life and the character Forrest Gump. On the surface, there is very little in common between my personality and Forrest's. I like to think that I am more intelligent and have more control over my life. But on reflective days, when the road back is as clear as the road ahead, I sometimes see this incredible journey that I could have never planned. That colorful road I've taken is strewn with vibrant people, places and things. I feel more Gump-like, each and every year.

Renewal

A few years ago a fellow walked up to me and said, "Hey!" as if he were a best friend. He had been, in high school, but I hadn't thought of him in so many years, that for that moment, Charles was a stranger to me.

Until I wrote the paragraphs above, Bill Poohak also lay unvisited, deep in a corner of my memory for sixteen years.

As suggested in the Richard Boyatzis and Annie McKee book, "Resonant Leadership," we can sometimes wake-up and find that we've been in a stupor for years. To succeed in business or art, we often need to focus on that which we can do well. Unfortunately, with focus we can also grow blinders that can wall us off from family, friends, employees, our business or our customers.

I started writing things down several years ago. Initially it was a way to ensure the fabric of life wouldn't simply fade behind the blinders. A few years ago I began to organize my notes in a book project called Potpourri of Thought. A book project is great because it is limitless in capacity and can be eternally improved. But the potential eternal nature meant each chapter could lay dormant for years, much like the old memories I wrote to release.

I still write a book chapter from time to time, but also write where the words can live. I started publishing on the web. My first sites were in the late 90's. InformationPort, InformationFamily, ijnews, infojones .... there have been many. Most are long dead, experiments that if not for the Internet Archive, would have been erased for all time. Today, I do a little blogging. In addition to this site, there is my photo site and one or more topical sites on Blogger.

The blog is a source of ongoing renewal. It's an opportunity to share and exchange ideas that may not be cooked enough to put in operational use. It's also an an opportunity to reflect and to gain feedback. Sometimes the feedback is timely, "Your current posts lack passion... are you getting bored?" Sometimes the feedback is not, "Hey, I listened to your podcast on Electronic Files two years ago. It was useful." In each case, the connection is what's valuable.