Chocolate Covered Raisins, Deer Poop, and a Prank

It was early. Damn early.  Day break was still more than an hour away.  I was in the kitchen waiting on the coffee pot, and I spied the bag of chocolate covered raisins.  They would make a nice snack for the road.  I grabbed a zip top baggie and put a handful in.  Coffee spewing out of the Keurig, I looked at the baggie.  Dayne would be here within 20 minutes.  Smiling as the wheels turned, I threw in another handful of raisins.

San Angelo, TX,  from my perspective, is either damn hot or damn cold.  Of course that might have something to do with only being there in two seasons a year.  Summer and winter.  It seems that there is no in-between weather.  Either the gnats are swarming, or they're all frozen.  And wasps.  Wasp spray is as necessary as sunscreen.  Yet I digress.  We, again, were there in the HOT season.  After cleaning up some old feeder pens we gathered back by the end of the flat bed drinking more water.

The ranch we hunted is a sheep ranch.  There are more sheep than deer.  And there are LOTS of deer.  Standing near a feeder, signs of both deer and sheep can be found:  Prints and poop.  As we talked he looked away, and I dribbled a handful of the chocolate covered raisins on the ground.

I looked down and said, "You know, I can't tell which of these are from sheep and which are from deer,  can you tell the difference?"  I bent down and picked up two real samples that were obviously different, (and I really don't know which was which).  I said "I can't tell the difference" as I pushed them around my palm.  He pointed at the smaller one and said "Pretty sure that's deer there".  "Yeah," I said, "I think you're right, its a little smaller and more oval."  (As if I had ever paid attention.)

I dropped those and picked a couple of the raisins.  "What about these, they look a little different, probably more fresh I think?".  " Oh yeah, those are deer.", he said.  "Huh,  I don't know, they're a little bigger", I said.  I brought them up to my nose and gave them a thorough sniff.  "I think you're right, smell like deer."  He gave me a questionable look.  I pondered them closely and dropped one, leaving just one in my palm.  I picked it up out of my palm with my fingers and smelled it again.  He was still looking at me in a funny way.  "I'm just not sure" and gave it another sniff, shaking my head, just not convinced.  I touched it to my tongue.  "Yeah, pretty sure, deer."  His eyes got big.  I carefully brought it to my mouth, reaching out with my teeth I bit off a small piece.  "Kendall, why are you eating SHIT?" he almost yelled.  I rolled it around my tongue like you might appraise a sip of wine.  "Deer," I said, and popped the rest in my mouth, bent down and picked up another, and reached into my pocket and grabbed a handful.

"WHAT THE HELL!" he yelled and was quickly backing up.  He was just in shock.  I walked towards him and started  popping them like candy.  "YOU ARE F-ING CRAZY!!!" he yelled in horror, backing away from me.  I said, "Hey that aren't bad, sort of an acquired taste.  Very organic".  I held my palm out and I swear he was gagging as he turned his back on me and stumbled away refusing to look at me.  I just couldn't keep a straight face and started laughing hysterically.  "GET AWAY FROM ME, GOD YOU'RE GROSS!" he yelled.  Laughing I said "They're chocolate covered raisins."  He looked at me dumbfounded.  It was perfect.  The perfect prank.

For the rest of the trip, he would just look at me and shake his head.  What are friends for?

A toothache and a prank

My first, and oldest friend, Dayne, whom I've know since we were 4 years old, is squeamish.  He also has a very sensitive sense of smell and is admittedly prone to barfing.  He and I were at the deer lease in the summer, preparing for the upcoming season.  I had an aggravated tooth that had been bothering me for a few days and I had been complaining a lot.

It was damn hot in San Angelo, TX that July.  We would work for a few minutes, clearing brush, setting posts, filling feeders, and then sit and guzzle water.  The gnats are awful in West Texas when its hot.  They're a constant annoyance and in your ears, nose, and eyes.  While we were at one location, I found the jawbone of a deer.  It was bleached white by the sun and coming apart.  One of the big molars pulled right out.  Hmm.  My wheels were spinning.  And my tooth really was bothering me.

A bit later, the tooth in my pocket, we were sitting in the truck, AC running, cooling off and drinking water.  My backseat was littered with bottles and there was a layer of hot dust on everything.  I was trying to set my phone up on the hot dash to record the upcoming prank.  Dayne told me my phone would overheat if I left it on the dash.  True, but I wasn't planning on it being there long. I couldn't get the damn thing to stand up straight, hence no video.  I gave up and complained about my tooth.  I was rubbing my gum like I had been all day.  He said, "Man that must really hurt.".  "Yeah it really does" I said, "I need some painkillers."  By this time I had eased the tooth out of my pocket and had it hidden in the palm of my right hand.

I reached up and was pulling on the tooth with my right hand, (which actually felt good), and then put my left up there for leverage.  I winced really hard and cried out, as if the tooth was coming out.  "What the hell, are you okay?" he said.  I said something profane and unintelligible and closed my eyes as the "tooth" started to come out.  "Oh shit I mumbled, as "it" came out.  My hands dropped hard as it came loose and I slammed my left hand over my mouth as my right hand fell to the console between us. Dayne had a look of horror on his face.  He was scooting away a little as I opened my right hand and left that big ugly deer molar on the console.  He screamed and was trying hard to get that door open and bail out as he was expecting a shower of blood.  I was hollering in pain and trying not to laugh my ass off.  He was moving as fast as he could trying to get away from my screaming and that ugly ass tooth.  Then I started laughing as he was stumbling away.  He yelled "WHAT THE SHIT IS THAT!" as he looked at me like I was a zombie. It took a long moment for him to figure out that the tooth just didn't make sense and why I had gone from crying out in pain to laughing myself hoarse.  

It was priceless!

Vanishing South Austin

I read today, in the Austin American Statesman, of the passing of South Lamar Plaza shopping center, which is giving way to a new development of apartments and retail space.  My earliest memories are rooted in that place on South Lamar.  It is difficult to describe the nostalgic memory and the feeling of loss as the physical buildings vanish.  Yet the memories hang on like a shimmering and impossible to touch mirage.

Growing up in South and Southwest Austin, back in the sixties and seventies, there were only a handful of grocery stores and shopping centers in South Austin.  Among them, Twin Oaks Shopping Center, Oltorf and South Congress, Southwood Mall, and others I am sure that escape my memory.  This was before Barton Creek Mall, Northcross and Highland Mall, and Westgate.  These centers were where South Austin shopped in the 60's and 70's. 

I spent countless miserable hours waiting in the Beall’s Department Store at South Lamar Plaza as my homemaker Mom walked her fingers through the towers of patterns for making dresses.  This was a neighborhood store and the people who worked there remembered us.  Probably ALL of my clothes came from Beall’s.  Next door to Beall’s was Handy Andy Groceries.  Aside from the old HEB that sat in the current home of Cavender’s Boot City, (if I remember correctly), Handy Andy was the only place to buy groceries in South Austin.  This was before Kash-n-Carry at S. Lamar and Barton Springs and Rylander’s on Bee Cave Road.  Eventually Handy Andy became Piggly Wiggly Grocery.

And then there was Lamar Plaza Drug Store.  Owned by the Karne’s and had the wonderful B.C. Allen working with them behind the Pharmacy counter.  Back then the Pharmacists were “Druggists”.   That drug store provided us at least two generations of cough syrup, antibiotics, and band-aids.

Long gone is the skate rink, (where countless friends had birthday parties,) that became the Armadillo World Headquarters which eventually became an office building.  The bowling alley is now the Bike Shop.  My hair was buzz-cut at Barton Springs Barber Shop, where the small bottles of coke cost a dime out of the vintage coke machine, and there was always a Super Bubble gum waiting for the end of my hair cut.  Dad went once a week before work whether he needed a cut or not.

Things change yet memories remain.  The old South Austin is slowly disappearing and being replaced with trendy shops, apartments, high-rise condominiums.  For me the loss is bittersweet yet change is a normal part of progress.  

My roots in South Austin run deep and long and like those of an old Oak they survive and are part of my childhood and formed who I became.  Though the buildings are disappearing, the memories of the shops and people, while difficult to touch, are a sweet and solid foundation of my life.

Firearm Safety is a Verb

Firearm Safety is a Verb

After shooting from my mid-teen years to the current time, I had developed my own idea of safety rules that I had assumed were good enough.  Even taking the Texas Hunter Safety class in High School did little to further my ideas about how to safely use, transport, and store a firearm.  (As a sidebar I took Hunter Safety in 1979 while I was in high school.  We were encouraged to bring a gun for show and tell.  This class took place IN the high school!  I also recall that many of us had gun racks in our truck’s rear windows, with a shotgun or rifle displayed.  I recall another time once school principal came on the overhead speaker, “Gentlemen, deer season is over, please leave your rifles at home now”.  Oh the good old days.)

I didn’t shoot much as a kid with my Dad, and received little instruction from him while growing up.  In my early 20’s we were out in the country and I was shooting at some cans.  He walked up to watch.  After shooting a couple I brought the rifle’s muzzle up and it nearly reached ninety degrees straight up when he shoved the barrel back down and sternly said “keep your rifle pointed downrange!”  Admittedly I was offended that he would be so bold as to correct me as I had been shooting several years by then, and had done just fine thank you.

Similarly the same thing happened to me at a skeet shoot I was at a couple of years later.  An “old guy” fussed at me because I was not intentionally keeping my muzzle pointed in a safe direction.  Even though we were on the range and I was on my station, he admonished me as I turned to look back and the muzzle started to follow. 

Both my Dad and this gentleman knew what I had not yet learned.  Safety is a VERB.  When handling firearms you have to intentionally and actively be safe.

Another time, just a few years ago, I was taking the qualifying test for my concealed handgun license.  The range officer stopped me and asked me to put my index finger in the register position, (off the trigger and alongside the frame), as we weren’t ready to shoot.  He then later had to tell me to stop pointing my pistol at my feet.  He was actively keeping all of us safe.  It was his primary mission.  He knew that safety is a verb.

A year or so ago I was on a range taking a basic pistol course, and the instructor started us from the very beginning.  Our pistols were in their cases lying on the ground.  He walked up asked me to open the case.  I did and he told me to pick the pistol up.  The pistol was secured in the foam inside the case.  So I did the easiest thing, I reached into the trigger guard with my index finger and started to pull.  “STOP!” he yelled.  I had committed offense number one.  Never lift the weapon by sticking your finger inside the trigger guard next to the “launch button” as he called it.  I knew the pistol was unloaded and safe, but he didn’t.  He was actively practicing safety while teaching good habits.  He knows that safety is a verb.

Just last week my son Walter and I were setting up a fun photo with me and my AR-15.  I had made sure the rifle was unloaded and there was no magazine in it.  He was going to take a photo from near the front of my rifle.  I pulled back the bolt and locked it in the open position.  I then closed the dust cover that disguises the fact that the bolt is locked back.  I wanted a magazine in the well and pulled out an empty one and walked into the room where Walter was setting up the photo.  I said, “the gun is empty and here is an empty mag”, and I let him inspect the magazine.  He looked at me and then at the rifle, “Is the bolt locked back?”  He couldn’t tell since the dust cover was closed.  I was so proud.  HE was actively being safe.  I pointed the muzzle in a safe direction and let the bolt slam forward.  I then pulled back the bolt and locked it into the rear position.  I showed him “clear”, he nodded, and I closed the dust cover and we started taking photos, safely.

Practicing firearm safety is work.  It is a verb and must be done actively.  Every moment you have to purposefully, intentionally, and actively know the condition of your firearm, where it is pointing, where your finger is in relation to the trigger, and how it affects others.  Safety has to be taken to the extreme all of the time, every time.  Like others through the years who have taught me, safety must be taught firmly.  One should not take admonishment personally and we should give it freely.  Safety must be the primary goal!

Prepare to defend yourself!

About a year ago I took forty something years of experience with firearms to my first ever in-depth training on pistol shooting.  In one of my previous blogs, “Shooting and Being Shot” I touched on that first trip to the shooting range in Victoria.  I’ve now spent five weekends in Victoria at the shooting range in the past year:  Three for training in defensive pistol with Arrowhead Firearms Training and two for defensive urban rifle.

This last trip I learned the Farnam Method of Defensive Rifle, from a wonderful, humorous, and arguably one of the most experienced trainers in the world, John Farnam of DTI, Inc.

After a three hour informative lecture and two days of intense Urban Combat Rifle training I came home with a GREAT appreciation for the practical use of a tactical carbine rifle and a new set of skills that compliment my defensive pistol training.

John sends out emails to his students, sort of a “mini-blog” that are very well written and very interesting.  The following is clip from a recent email:

14 Mar 12

Comments from a reconstructive investigator and friend:

"My work in reconstructing domestic shooting (non-accident) events has lead me to these conclusions:

1) VCAs (Violent Criminal Actors) who ply their trade with the expectation of encountering a significant 'fight' represent a minuscule minority.  The vast majority are simply looking for an easy score with minimal exposer to risk.

2) When substantial resistance, particularly gunfire, emanates from an unexpected source (the intended victim), nearly all VCAs voluntarily disengage, immediately, and run away, having no interest in any kind  of 'fight.'

3) VCAs who do not immediately disengage upon encountering substantial resistance, and, in fact, close with you while under fire, are unbalanced, or are willing to make 'the wager.'  They are willing to risk life and limb for a chance to murder you.  At that moment, you will call his bluff, or not!

4) The best evidence that a person is fundamentally unwilling to employ lethal force in calling such bluffs is his self-deceptive belief in a talisman.  He will try to convince himself that, by sole virtue of the fact that he is carrying a particular gun or ammunition, he will merely have to waive it in the face of evil spirits to make them go away.  Such talismen take many forms, and the naive commonly carry several.  They are 'safe' only so long as their theory remains untested!

My summary of the four conclusions above:

1)   Bad guys look for the weakest and easiest targets and avoid those who appear otherwise.

2)   If a bad guy mistakenly chooses a victim trained in self defense who is prepared – he will run away.

3)   If he is a gambler, he may try to assault, rob, rape, or murder you anyway.  The victim has to make a choice to give up or use his or her skills to survive.

4)   Just because the victim has a weapon, (gun, knife, martial art, etc), and he or she shows it to the bad guy, doesn’t mean the bad guy will run away.  The victim MUST be prepared to use it.

My attitude towards gun ownership for defensive purposes has changed drastically over the past year.  I often have friends to decide they should get a gun for protection.  My advice now is to attend a intro to handguns class somewhere.  Borrow a gun, or use a “range” gun from the trainer if one is available.  At any given class there will be a variety of guns show up that one can try out, hold, and hear the pros and cons of each from the instructor.  Then at the end of the class a person can make a choice on which gun to buy, or to not buy a gun at all.  Owning a gun is a HUGE responsibility that some people probably shouldn’t take upon themselves.

If and when the decision to purchase a gun is made, it is up to the purchaser to learn how to safely handle, shoot, clean, and store the gun.  I suggest the new gun owner take as many classes as possible.  Learn how the gun works.  Learn how to clear jams (stoppages).  Learn about ammunition, cleaning, legal responsibilities, how to deal with the police, and how to keep ones self out of situations where actually having to use the gun is necessary.

Looking back at the second conclusion in the quoted lines above, a person would be wise to be prepared.

At the very least, be prepared in that situations are thought through in advance.  “What would I do if I was getting gas at night and a stranger approached me?”

Be prepared by being aware of your surroundings.

Be prepared with the confidence of knowing that whatever “weapon” you have, that you can get to it, that you are able to use it physically, and that you are able to use it mentally.

Bring jobs back to America!

This Fall the Republican presidential candidates are in the news with their jockeying for top position in the race for the Republican nomination.  The economy and job creation are always a top rhetoric at the debates these days.  There has been lots of finger pointing at the past and current administrations and we have heard the cheers and jeers in reaction to grants, tax cuts, and stimulus packages all in the name of job creation.

Now the “Occupy (insert favorite city)” crowd is out there trying to accomplish something, I’m not sure what, (and not sure they know either), but at least they are trying.

The situation we find ourselves in has been building for a long time.  We have become a nation of buyers, sellers, and servicers.  There has been much talk of companies that have “sent jobs overseas”.  Why has this happened?  Profit is the simple answer.  In many cases it is cheaper to use foreign labor for manufacturing.  Labor is cheaper, taxes and benefits are lower, there are fewer safety regulations, no unions (or a smaller presence), less government intrusion, and in many cases government subsidies to prop up the local manufacturers and dump products in the U.S. for less than it costs to build them.

We, as consumers, are demanding cheaper and cheaper products.  We want the world but don’t want to pay for it.  So business has done what it can to increase its own profits for its shareholders while feeding consumer demand. 

What is our problem?  We buy it and we sell it, but we don’t make it.

We are great consumers and we love to spend our money.  We have sent away our manufacturing jobs and have become a nation of importers.  We don’t make anything, but we have become really good at importing and selling cheap product.  This has become a vicious cycle for America.  Here is a simplified look at what is happening:   An example retailer might have a margin of 35%.  Of that 35% margin, the retailer pays its fixed and variable costs (payroll, insurance, electricity, etc), and distributes a couple of percent for its shareholders.  What happens to the other 65%?  It pays for the product that was assembled overseas.  By moving the production of goods overseas, the associated raw materials market has moved as well.  Entire communities have been ruined with the loss of textile and steel production.

When we choose (or are forced) to purchase foreign made goods, a large portion of our wealth is drained overseas.  That sucking sound is jobs being pulled out from under us, by our own purchasing habits!

According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, in August of 1990, there were more than 897,000 apparel manufacturing jobs in the U.S.  Compare that to the current August 2011 count of 154,000!  I challenge you to go to a department store and try to find an American made pair of shoes or jeans.  Recently I was talking to an elderly man who was saying he would never buy a power tool from a big box store because their products are all made overseas.  He was seriously upset about it.  I didn’t have the heart to tell him that probably every stitch of clothing he was wearing was foreign made, as was most of the vehicle that brought him there.

So how do we fix this mess?

It took a long time to get here, and will take a long time to get back.  But one thing I am sure about.  All of the stimulus plans that our government can throw at us won’t do a bit of good because the jobs they create are temporary and we will just keep spending that money on overseas products.  So what do we do?  We have to take back control of production.  If we do that we should see a reversal of the trend in the table above.  If we started manufacturing our own products, then more of our money would stay in the U.S.  That money is then used to buy more product, made in America, which is what makes the economic wheels turn.

But how do we get the jobs back?

This is where I think the Republican presidential candidates are missing out.  Nobody wants to anger the Chinese (or any other country) by raising taxes on imported goods, creating a protectionist situation and starting trade wars.  I believe the answer is internal to the U.S.  We shouldn’t fault the foreign manufacturers because our own companies are the ones hiring them with our money!

I believe the answer lies in encouraging those American retailers to hire American manufacturers.  How do you encourage them?  By making it cheaper through tax reductions.  If a company uses American manufacturing muscle to build the product it sells, then it should pay a lower tax rate.  The taxes on its profits should be lowered enough to encourage on-shore manufacturing.  Perhaps we as consumers should pay a higher sales tax on goods that are manufactured overseas.  I believe the American consumer would suddenly become very interested in U.S. made products if they paid a lower sales tax for those products.  This is not penalizing foreign manufactures, but simply encourage U.S. manufacturing.  Can you imagine what this alone could do for the textile industry?  What if suddenly  half of the clothes available in Dillard’s were American made?   Can you imagine the economic impact?

If we could accomplish this then the vicious cycle that we have created would slowly come to a halt and begin to reverse itself.  We would see cities revitalized, people employed again, and a stronger economy overall.

I’m really interested to know what you think about this.  I’m not an economist, (obviously).  But I really believe that this is just good common sense.  We have to stop the drain on the American economy and encourage American businesses to use American manufacturing to build the products we as Americans consume. It is just the American thing to do!

Mules and Motivation: A Paper on Leadership.

Where do you want your mule to go?

Slap a mule on his butt hard enough and he will go.  (Or he might kick the crap out of you).  But will he go the direction you want him to go?  Or will he step sideways and take off to the left or right?  If your mule is harnessed to a plow, you have no guarantee that the row will be straight and parallel to the prior one.  You know what you want and simply slapping the mule on the ass isn’t a very efficient way of reaching your goal of straight rows and a bumper crop.

The mule doesn’t learn and you end up spending more time chasing him around the field and ending up with rows going every direction.  The mule is scared and unhappy, you are frustrated, you end up with a crappy looking field, low yield, and otherwise disappointing results.

Now contrast that with clipping a lead on his halter, slipping him a sugar cube, and then walking that straight line towards the end of the field.  He gets a scratch on the ear, a sugar cube, and he senses your confidence and will plow to the ends of the earth.  You just hook him up to the equipment, lead him to where you want him to plow, take care of him, slip him a sugar cube, and you’re a team!

It may seem like a simplified metaphor, however humans at the basic level differ very little from mules when it comes to getting them to do what you want, in an efficient manner, and with calculated results.  However we do have the ability to reason, make decisions, and understand moral consequences far beyond that of a mule.

I recently had the opportunity to sit through two meetings, roughly one week apart.  Each was led by two completely different types of managers.

In the first meeting called by Manager “A”, there was much said, but much of what the participants recall is that the slap was un-deserved, harsh, and ended with us dashing out the door at the end of the meeting, with a simple look back wondering what the heck just happened.  There were some crooked rows plowed after that meeting.

Contrast that to the meeting that followed a week later.  Manager "B", skilled in actual “leadership”, adroitly set us up by getting us to agree that we had ownership in our part of the business.  We sat there like puppies, wagging our tails, pricking our ears, and our tongues hanging out with a “keh keh keh” that you might hear from your dog waiting for his pat on the head.  We gobbled up the attention, each agreeing willfully that we are responsible managers and capable of leading our teams to success.

What followed was a listing of barriers to success, and how we might overcome them.  Then the current goals were reviewed, barriers removed, expectations set, and action items made for each of us.  We left that meeting with clear, concise, measurable, timely, and specific goals to reach for the next few weeks.  We were rewarded with the burden of knowing that WE own our part of the business, that success is ours to lose, and failure was not an option.  If it is my business, why would I want it to fail?  We left the room with our plows harnessed knowing exactly what we needed to do, plowing a straight line, and ready to enlist the support of our own team members.

In graduate school, I was a student of the works of Frederick Herzberg and Abraham Maslow.  Each was skilled in leadership studies and psychology and wrote some insightful papers and books in the 1950’s concerning motivation in the workplace.

Herzberg’s popular model was “Hygiene” and “Motivation” factors.  His Hygiene factors were company policy, supervision, interpersonal relations, working conditions, and salary.  He claimed these factors were responsible for “job dissatisfaction”.  For example you can have a great job with great responsibility, and have great bosses, etc.  However if the pay doesn’t cut it, and you can’t pay your bills, then you might just be dissatisfied.  Contrast that with “Motivators” such as achievement, recognition, the work itself, responsibility, and advancement.  The presence of these are “satisfiers”.  Have any or all of these and you can be satisfied with your job.  In summary of Herzberg, the Hygiene Factors are “dis-satisfiers” and the Motivation Factors are “satisfiers”.

Maslow’s theory is called the “Hierarchy of Needs”.  In Maslow’s model, conceptually shaped like a pyramid, the bottom of the structure has the supporting needs that a person must have in order to get by.  For instance pay, safety, and working conditions might be what drives or motivates someone at the basic level.  The laborer, the man or woman in charge of keeping the floors swept and the trashcans empty, each must earn and receive enough money to live on.  They have to eat and have a place to lie down at night.  If they don’t have that, then can you expect them to show up to work the next day?  Taking the janitor up the next level of the Hierarchy, he needs to know he is appreciated.  He needs to know he has job security.  He needs the proverbial sugar cube every once in a while.  What he really needs is that people know his name!  Give him this and he is one happy man.

Move up to the top of the ladder to the senior software engineer.  He is the man or woman your organization depends upon for the final product.  As does the janitor, he requires that his pay, working conditions, and job security be in tact.  His goals, however, are much more complex than that of the janitor.  He needs to see far into his future.  He needs a team behind him that he can lead.  He requires the tools necessary to create.  Give him the resources and he can create anything.  Do all this, (and much more), and he reaches what Maslow calls self-actualization, or the realization of reaching one’s full potential.  “I have gotten to the top, met my goals, and achieved all I could ever want in the job.”

Success in your job is a two way street.  Do you have goals?  Do you have long-term goals?  Stretch Goals?  Have you articulated these?  Does your organization know what these are and are they prepared to help you reach them?  Considering Herzberg and Maslow, do you know what motivates you?  And are your goals realistic and sensible? A short-term goal might be to step up to a car with air conditioning.  That might be considered a basic hierarchical need here in Texas!  Consider your long-term goals.  20 Years out.  You MUST set yourself up with some action items, which make up your short term goals, which create the foundation for your long term goals twenty years out or further.

Putting yourself in the position of a manager (Leader) of people, are you just calling a meeting and shouting about how bad they are doing and what the results will be if things don’t improve?  Or are you stepping to the front and setting the example?  Are you showing your team where the goal line is and giving a high five to everyone, including the janitor, when the goals are met and the field harvested?

While it might not take as much thought, slapping the mule on the haunch might get him moving.  But is the result what you really what it to be?  Most likely you’ll end up with a hostile animal that fears you and eventually will resist doing anything for you.

A much more tedious, but infinitely more rewarding method, is to lead your mule.  Show him respect.  Give him a sugar cube, and be gentle with the harness.  Before you know it the field is plowed, the harvest in, and you have reached your own goal of self-fulfillment and maximized potential.

Ref: http://www.ericdigests.org/1999-1/needs.html