Breaking the Magic Wand

I decline
To walk the line
They tell me that I'm lazy
Worldly wise
I realize
That everybody's crazy
A woman's voice reminds me
To serve and not to speak
But I myself am just another freak

When I was 8 or so, a magazine I read had a DIY computer program in it. It was a strange, text-based version of “The Incredible Machine.” You had to type in different items to use in order to solve a problem or perform an action in order.

The neat thing about the game was that you could manipulate code to add extra items not in the core set.

I created the item: “magic wand.”

Which, of course, you’d wave, and the task would be solved instantly.

I’ve been trying to break the wand ever since.

With a cough
I shake it off
And work around my yellow stripe
Should I hide
And eat my pride
Or wait until it's good and ripe
My life is boiling over
It's happened once before
I wish someone would open up the door

It was a small event, but reveals much about my character. I’ve always gotten frustrated too easily, given up too soon on things, wanted the easy way. I’ve always known this is bad for me, that it holds me back from being truly great in my endeavors.

I hate to fail. So, often, I don’t try.

Or, I can have a great idea, then think ‘but what about this? Or this” and in moments, I’ve come to a roadblock in my plan that seems insurmountable. And then I give up.

I think I know what I want to do. Just look at what I talk about or write about on a regular basis. But I don’t know how to do it. I need to make the choices, and sacrifices, for the future, and I don’t seem to be willing or able to.

Too many distractions. Twitter, dinner, dog hair, dancing.

There's fire in the hole
And nothing left to burn
I'd like to run out now
There's nowhere left to turn

Lyrics from “Fire in the Hole,” by Steely Dan

Pessimism, positive thinking, and horse poop

I was reminded recently how much I hate the following anecdote. It goes, more or less like this:


A little boy is given a pile of poop as a gift. Instead of being sad, he is gleeful and starts playing in the scat. When asked why, he says "With this much poop there's got to be a pony somewhere!"

Cute story. But back in the day, when I was much, much (much) younger, this story always gave me a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I have always thought it a horrible motivator, because this logic makes no sense.

First off, what kind of pile of poop is so incredibly big that it can hide an entire horse? Either a ginormous pile, or a very small pony, and both are unlikely scenarios.

Second of all, just because there's poop doesn't mean a pony is nearby. It means a pony was nearby. But the pony could have just as well rode off. The little boy may be happy now, but soon enough, he'll be sorely disappointed. And that makes my inner child cry.

Now, the thing is, there are certainly ways to spin this story so that the little boy comes out on top of the heap, so to speak.

1. If the boy is a gardener, he's got a wonderful fertilizer for his fruits and vegetables.
2. If he's not a gardener, but he has entrepreneurial spirit, he can package and sell the horse poop to others who are.
3. If he's just fallen off of a horse, the horse poop, though uncomfortable, could cushion his fall.

And so on.

I just wish that motivational peoples would be a little more realistic when they tell this type of story. With a little bit of creative thinking, the story can be turned into something realistic and motivating. Because otherwise, if you're someone who is into critical thinking, or has a pessimistic/realistic worldview, this story's not gonna sway them.