Author: mikemjensen

Sizzle Matters

mikemjensen Life's Truths, Writing Tags: , , , Leave a comment

Hey Kids,

Marketing rules says to sell the sizzle not the steak.sizzle

It seems, on the surface, to be disingenuous at the least and salesman sleazy at its worst. But outside of trying to sell someone something, there’s a truth to it.

Upon arrival at the apartments this afternoon, there was attached to the little clip by my door, the May newsletter. It contained a warning to clean up after your dogs on the grounds. A warning to keep your dog or cat (their words) on a leash. A warning to get your patio cleaned up. A notice about where the city will be placing dumpsters for spring clean-up. And an announcement for a kite festival this weekend, but the location is listed as: TBA.

Oh yes. And an invite to follow them on Facebook.

There was a picture of presumably May flowers but no attempt to make the overall look interesting. No interesting fonts, logo, or maybe even some positive news about something.

My goal is not to dog on this newsletter. I know it was most likely produced at the command of a management company, by employees who have too much to do already. Instead, my point is that when you are going to deal with people, be a person. Make at least part of it interesting or even pleasing to look at. This applies to a newsletter, a PowerPoint presentation, or a photo (photos are almost always more interesting if someone is in it- even if it you don’t know who it is.)

Talk like normal people talk, not like a lawyer, a doctor, or an apartment manager.

Have fun and don’t be afraid to try to be funny. Even if you’re the only one laughing- at least that’s one person laughing.

Steak as steak is just a chunk of meat. It’s when it starts to sizzle that people really get interested.

Sizzle matters.

 

Post 3-122

My Crew

mikemjensen Gratitude, Life's Truths, Useless Observations, Vanity Tags: , , Leave a comment

Hey Kids,

I have a staff. We are all just people with jobs. We trade our time and talents and get paid for it.

I like to think I’m one of the crew, another employee with my own specific duties. I start the day and end the day, just like everyone else. I’m just one of the “guys”.

ordinary

Ordinary Average Guy

Except I’m not.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing special about me. I’d be the first to doubt my abilities, my importance, and my book smarts. I’m pretty run of the mill.

But I am the leader of my small staff. They look to me to make sure their time gets turned into money. They look to me to watch for those things that are best for them. While they do their jobs, they expect me to do mine- make their jobs easier, valuable, and safe.

They come to me when they are troubled, mad, or disappointed. They tell me of their victories, their families, and their desires. They share their goals, their dreams, and occasionally their deepest secrets.

I console when family members struggle, get sick, and pass away. I offer advice when life delivers hard blows. I encourage when life puts up hurdles.

I’ve laughed with them. I’ve sat through tears with them. I’ve spoken at funerals of a couple of them, and hugged their grieving mothers.

None of these things make me anything great or special.

Except what an honor it is to be someone who is trusted to be part of so many people’s special moments.

What an honor it is to be given a second chance to be a dad once again.

 

Post 3-121

Two in One Day

mikemjensen Fishing Tags: , , Leave a comment

Hey Kids,

The lake sits just below the summit of 8020 feet from sea level. Which, in turn, just happens to be about the same elevation of the snow level. The ice has disappeared from the lake, but the true feeling of spring will not start here for another month, especially in terms of temperature. With clear skies, the temperature plummeted even a little deeper overnight. Stepping out of the 4Runner, I felt I had stepped back into January.

History has shown this to be a great time to be at this lake, nonetheless. The bigger fish, free from the ice capped lake for the past three-plus months are on the prowl in the shallows. The smaller fish are congregating along the shores where the water is more easily warmed by the sun’s rays, if even only a few degrees. It’s predator/prey season and one of the best times to catch a monster.

I braved the cold and in the blackness of early morning, began my preparations. I opened the back hatch to get my gear. Apparently I wasn’t the only one feeling the effects of the cold weather. The pressurized cylinders that lift and hold open the hatch gate, didn’t quite lift it to its highest potential. My head and the life-challenged hatch met, a little north of the right temple. I’m not sure what man or beast could hear me then, but I apologize now for the words I expressed at that moment.

I began casting out in the dark waters. Cast after cast. I picked the ice out of the eyes on the rod that continually froze with the water carried back on the retrieved line. I casted more. I exchanged lures and varied colors. I sped up the retrieve and I slowed the retrieve.

The light of the day slowly took over the dark and the sun crested the surrounding hills to the east. The sunlight would drive the fish deeper and the mercury a little higher. I tried another spot or two. I casted more. I tried a few more lures. Nothing. Goose egg.

In shame, I packed my gear and started the drive back home. As if it wasn’t enough to have to admit I caught zero fish, I felt at the sore impact spot on my head, a small bump had formed.

Great! Two goose eggs on the same trip.

 

Post 3-120

Brake Light Broke

mikemjensen Useless Observations Tags: , Leave a comment

Hey Kids,

I got pulled over today by the highway patrol. Apparently I had a brake light out.

Although I appreciate the notice, as it’s a good thing to have your brake lights work, I find it odd that it constitutes a full lights pull-over, a need to see my license, a return to the patrol car, a print out of a warning, and then act like it’s all in the name of doing me a favor.

A simple, loud speaker broadcast of, “Your brake light is out, bro,” would suffice.

Either way, it’s fixed now.

 

Post 3-118

Flip Flopper

mikemjensen Fishing, kayaks, Motorcycles, Useless Observations Tags: , , , , Leave a comment

Hey Kids,

I used to always consider myself a cold weather person. The times I’ve been knee deep in a cold river, flicking ice from the rod line guides, and brushing snow off of my hat has happened more than once. In fact, I always considered the start of fishing season to be Labor Day, the unofficial last weekend of summer and the beginning of the fall and winter seasons. It ended on Memorial day in May.

I’ve noticed that others also wear that Cold Weather Outdoors Person medal with equal pride. If the mercury drops below freezing, a silver star is deserved. Below zero and a gold star is in order. And only a few people will be out there to earn it.

strawberry

I wonder why no one else is here??

Cold weather always means less people. And the colder it gets, the less people there would be and that’s always a good thing. Just last December, I fished in and around the ice sheets on a high elevation lake. Why? Because open water is kayak-able water. I spent the day alone on the water and couldn’t have been happier. Cold, but happy.

Even riding the bike, I’ve declared with pride that there is no “too cold”. I’ve proved it, at least down to 8°F. My saying has been, “So long as there’s no ice, I’m riding.” And I still stand by that.

However this summer, having already experienced the warm weather to our south, I think I might be more prone to embrace the warm weather this year. The motor runs better. The tires grip better. The kayak glides better. The fish bite and fight better.The sun feels better. Shorts and t-shirt fit better. And the flips flop better. 

Yes I’m a warm weather guy this season. The red rock desert will see more of me. And I just might stay like this for a while.

At least until Labor Day.

 

Post 3-117

A Slow 110

mikemjensen cars, Uncategorized, Useless Observations Tags: , , , , Leave a comment

Hey Kids,

In the previously blog-mentioned movie of “Smokey and the Bandit” there’s a scene where Frog (Sally Fields) looks at the dashboard of the 1977 Trans Am and in a surprised voice asks, “Are we really going 110? We’re going 110!”doing_110

The camera shows the speedometer and the needle is on 110, but it’s 110km/h.

Correct me if I’m wrong but that’s just shy of 70 mph. Not really that fast but maybe when compared to the then national speed limit of 55 MPH and on a two-lane back road somewhere between Texarkana, Texas and Atlanta, GA.; it seems fast.

Still, if you weren’t paying as close attention or able to watch the movie over and over (a feat not normally possible in 1977), you would assume she meant 110 MPH. Despite efforts to the contrary, the metric system didn’t exist to anyone stateside back then. Or even now.

Sometime around 1976, or in my fourth grade, I remember doing conversion worksheets in school. We were taught that the US had to get in line with the rest of the world if we were to stay relevant and competitive. Not too far in the future, pounds, gallons, and miles would be but a faint memory. I recall the worry and perceived immediacy of this new-fangled measuring system. We needed to learn it now!

That was the last instruction and work sheets I would ever receive.

Road signs for a short time listed both kilometers and miles, and the speedometers in the cars were required to list both as well. I don’t recall anyone resisting but it never took. There didn’t exist a real daily reason to change. People had bigger worries and eventually all effort to get people to switch went away.

I know that it might sound sick, misguided, or even ridiculous; but I’m kind of proud that we rejected it as a country. It’s OK to be different, to do it our own way. We Americans are funny that way.

The metric system is superior and easier to use. I admit it. But for whatever reason the 16 ounces to the pound, the 128 ounces to the gallon, and the 5280 feet per mile systems work for us.

Just like declaring that trucking Coors beer east of Texas is bootlegging.

 

Post 3-116

Equal but Bigger

mikemjensen Motorcycles, Useless Observations Tags: , , , Leave a comment

Hey Kids,

When we returned to town last Sunday evening, a new bike had been purchased over the weekend. Parked under the carport, its paper plates still smelled of the sharpie used to write the expiration date of the temporary registration.

Finally today, I got the occasion to walk over to check out this new playmate to the motorcycle sandlot. A white 2000 Yamaha Road Star 1600 hard-cased bagger.

I stood admiring the look and the lines of the bike when its owner wandered out of his apartment. I’m sure he needed to see why I was out there creeping on his bike.

I let him know that I liked the bike, asked some questions, and complimented him on his fine purchase. All this set him a little at ease.

“Those are my bikes over there,” I told him, thumbing at the pair of bikes resting in their own spot under the aluminum roof, a few sections down. This seemed to change everything and suddenly I had street cred.

We spoke a little longer and it seemed to get his juices flowing for a ride. He looked up to the dark clouded skies. Standing in my riding jacket and seeing my helmet resting on the back seat of the bike on which I had just rolled in, he trusted me when I suggested he should go. It could be hours before the next rain session.

He agreed and rolled out for a country scoot.bigger

We had nothing in common but the name on the apartment complex and a love for the two-wheeled people movers. That usually is enough to be buds in the parking lot and equals in the eyes of the motorcycle gods.

Well, almost equals. I have TWO bikes and an extra 300cc on MY Yamaha.

 

Post 3-115

Half Empty, or A Little Farther

mikemjensen Uncategorized 7 Comments

Hey Kids,

My Suzuki Boulevard motorcycle is equipped with a trip meter which, if you remember to reset at each fill-up, which allows you to more easily calculate fuel mileage.

Why is it important to know fuel mileage? Thanks for asking.

The fuel gauge is a series of little black bars on the back lit background of the electronic display that line up across the top. As the tank of 4.1 gallons empties the bars go out.

The first bar goes out after 1 gallon.c50

The next bar goes out at 2 miles.

The third bar goes out at 2 ½ and the fourth goes out at 3.

The fifth light starts blinking at 3.6 gallons.

Approximately.

If you happened to know when the bar started blinking and you took note of how many miles you had traveled at each bar disappearance, you would know how many miles you can continue before the last bar stops blinking and you start walking.

The whole process can be obsessive. It’s not always the same mileage. Depending on the air temperature, the roads and speed you were traveling, the wind direction, and how hard you twist the throttle at the traffic lights; the MPG changes. And how many miles have you traveled before you noticed the warning light?

Some people think that once the gauge reads ½ full, just fill the tank and all of this calculating is irrelevant.

I’m more of the “establish where the limits are, with a certain degree of uncertainty, and see how close you’ve calculated it” kind of guy.

And maybe push it a little.

But that’s just me.

 

Post 3-114

Alone in Heaven

mikemjensen Uncategorized Leave a comment

Hey Kids,

I paddled away from the marina in the black of 4 a.m. morning.

There was no moon. A part from the lights of the buoys, the air and water fromed a wall of black into which I traveled.

I blindly ventured out past the wave breakers into the small but deep bay that I had explored the day before. Without the visible markers from the shore, I had to guess where exactly I was. I paddled, floated, and jigged for fish that decided not to cooperate.

As the day eventually began to light up, I paddle into a flooded canyon and worked the rock walls. With vision now, I experienced better results, with one story I’ll share maybe tomorrow.FHD1780

I spent all these hours alone. No music, no voices, and no other humans.

I’m not against human interaction, but I recharge when left to myself. Instead of talking, I think. Of work, of family, of writing, of money, of this blog, or really of anything that makes its way through my head. Bigfoot, geology, or sports; they can all fill in moments of my thoughts.

I also take note of where I am, what I am doing.

Today, I witnessed another miracle of a sunrise, in a place, where if heaven resembles in the slightest way, would be almost worth going to church on Sundays.

 

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