I'm a hockey player, and grew up in California during the Gretzky era. This means that I'm a Kings fan, and abhor the mere mention of the Mighty Ducks. Yes, they are still the Mighty Ducks, even if they have tried to distance themselves from their Disney roots by changing their name to the Anaheim Ducks. That they've won a Stanley Cup while neither the Sharks nor the Kings have climbed the mountain is something that causes me to occasionally wake up in cold sweats, a feeling not uncommon for fans of teams to never have won the Cup in their lifetimes. This is not a short list of teams.
For a lot of years, the Kings were not really worth following. They had serious problems, starting in the 90's when they were being "managed" by the McMaster of Disaster. They haven't been worth consideration for over a decade, notwithstanding the occasional playoff upset of a powerhouse like Detroit.
But they made the playoffs this season, and I'm actually excited about the King's prospects next season. A little while ago, they opened their eyes as an organization to one of the great truisms of sports. A team might be bad for a game or ten based on the players not coming through the way they're supposed to. A team might be bad for a month or ten if the coaching staff is not coming through the way they're supposed to. But if a team is bad for a year or ten, it's because the management and ownership are not coming through the way they're supposed to. I'll spare you examples of this, but trust me when I say there are MANY, and offer only the current halcyon exemplars: the Oakland Raiders, the Los Angeles Clippers, and the Baltimore Orioles.
The Kings seem to have realized that while they might not quite fall into that group, they weren't far above it, and under new ownership, did something about it. They went out and hired a guy to run the team who actually knew what he was going: Dean Lombardi, who was just coming off building the San Jose Sharks into perennial contenders. Not surprisingly, things started to turn around, and on much the same script, as Dean started building a new team, from the net forward, by drafting well, building a young core, and cherry-picking free agents based on character and need rather than on flash and flare.
For the first time in living memory, the Kings don't have a goaltending dilemma. The current starter, John Quick, was on the Team USA roster for the Olympics, and while not as good as the American starter (Ryan Miller), he deserved to be there. Excepting the number in the "wins" column, Quick's numbers were not overwhelming, but he was playing behind a young team under a new coach. More importantly, if you watched Kings games, you noticed Quick's habit of making big saves at the right time. Stopping breakaways or other great shots that would have been game-winners, kind of thing. Numbers aside, he made big saves when his team needed a big save, and that says a lot.
This is actually a bit of a problem, since Quick was not supposed to be this good. He was just supposed to be a temporary fix while the King's goalie of the future, John Bernier (the first draft pick made after Lombardi took the helm), got a little seasoning in the minors. Bernier saw only limited NHL action this season, but his numbers were spectacular (3-0-0, 1.30 goals against average, .957 save percentage). Moreover, he's been on a career track as a star, whereas - again - Quick kind of came out of nowhere. The end result is that the Kings could have a serious dilemma in goal, not in their usual fashion of trying to find a guy good enough to get wins, but in trying to decide which guy is the best guy to get wins. They also have a guy named Erik Ersberg who didn't play much, but who came through big when they needed him, and statistically was about as good as Quick.
Here's the kicker, which will be an ongoing theme on the Kings: they're all young. Quick is 24. Bernier is 21. Ersberg would be traded if there were not a glut on free-agent goaltenders this season, but will likely be the odd-man out, since he's 28. For those who are not devotees of the game, NHL goaltenders don't usually reach their peak until they're 29 or 30. This bodes well.
Defense is not going to be a problem for the Kings either, per prior postings. Drew Doughty was a finalist for the Norris Trophy last season, awarded to the NHL's best defenseman. He's 20. Jack Johnson is a stud as well. He's 23. Doughty averaged over 24 minutes a game last season, and Johnson's average was over 22, Barring injury, both should keep the same form, and increase their minutes to 27 per game. That's about 55 man-minutes from two studs in their early 20s. There's only 120 man-minutes on defense in a game. There are no huge stars on the roster after those two, but Rob Scuderi is as solid as they get (20 minutes a game), and Sean O'Donnell can still get the job done (18 minutes). The Kings will still need to play some depth guys, but they won't need to play them much.
On right wing, they'll do fine. Team Captain Dustin Brown (age 25, 24 goals, 32 assists) is the sort of guy that the lack of has kept the Sharks from winning a cup; he led the league in hits last season, and makes a difference even when he's not scoring. Wayne Simmonds (age 20) came out of nowhere with 40 points last season and earned himself a spot on the second line. Justin Williams should be healthy again, and - when healthy - is a 30-goal scorer.
Left wing is a concern. Ryan Smyth is a bit long in the tooth (at 34), especially for the physical style of play he plays, but it was recently announced that he will remain captain of Team CANADA, so one would presume he's still got a little left. Like Brown, he's the sort of skate-through-a-wall kind of guy that makes the difference in crunch time. The supremely talented but extremely flaky Alex Frolov is leaving in free agency, but that might end up being addition by subtraction. The cupboard is pretty bare after that, which is why the Kings are in the lead to sign free agent Ilya Kovalchuk, who has been among the lead leaders in scoring for the last few years. We'll have to see how that goes.
At center, Anze Kopitar (age 22) led the Kings in scoring (34 goals, 47 assists). There was a time that he led the LEAGUE in scoring as well. He's only going to get better. Jarrett Stoll (age 28) is capable but not spectacular, as is Michal Handzus (age 34). They will chip a few in, play solid defense, and that's about it. At this point, the difference between the Kings and the teams that dominate the league is one more top-level center. Unfortunately, they don't grow on tree. Except in Pittsburgh, apparently.
All in all, expect the Kings to return to the playoffs next season. And the season after than. And the one after that.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Thursday, June 3, 2010
I Wondered Where That Went...
I got an email from my dad this week, relating an interesting story. I'm pretty sure there aren't going to be any legal repercussions, since 1) any violated laws would be post facto, 2) there was no culpable intent, and 3) I would have been about 12 at the time of the at-issue events. Besides, the truth is the truth, I have no fear of it, and I think those of you who read this will find it amusing.
When I was between the ages of about 6 and 16, my family lived in Northern California, in a quiet little residential neighborhood. VERY quiet. Tree-lined streets. Four schools, two churches, a candy store, a pet store, and a public park all within easy walking distance. THAT kind of quiet. I haven't been back there more than a handful of times in the last 15 years, but of course I remember it well.
So I grew up there with my two brothers, SW and GL, in a house with a big yard. The time frame included our pre-teen and teenage years, and this was LONG before 9-11, way back when you could buy real-looking toy guns that didn't even have bright-orange muzzles. As a family with three boys, we had plenty of those, and all sorts of other things that modern soft sensitivities and political-correctness have long since eradicated from the face of the earth.
Of course me, my brothers, and our friends would get tired of soccer, tag, whiffle-ball, and other sports, and would chase each other around with toy knives/swords/guns, and re-enact scenes from GI Joe, Robotech, Thundercats, or whatever. We were active boys. We didn't even have cable, just pirate HBO on a wood-cabinet TV without a remote, and neither SW's Atari 2600 nor (later) my NES really captivated us that much.
But we did have all sorts of toys that got us outside and running around, and not just sports gear. Among the cool shit that we had, thanks to having the usual male fascination with Army/Navy surplus stores, was some stuff that could only questionably be called "toys." For example: dummy grenades. (Google it.) Which are, in fact, actual United States Military surplus hand grenades, lacking only fuses, primers, and explosives. They are just like the ones you see on TV, with a cast-iron "pineapple" fragmentation case, aluminum fuse-body and safety spoon, and a locking pin, complete with the steel pull-ring. They look, feel, and ARE exactly like the real thing, except that they don't explode. Me and my brothers had a few of them, and they were BAD ASS. I've taken a quick look online, and looks like they're still legal to buy and own in most places, and are selling for about the same price that me, GL, and SW paid for ours, circa 1989: less than $10. In any rate, as pre-teen/teen boys, we were somewhat less than diligent about storage and/or maintenance of our toys - including our dummy grenades - which would routinely be lost, found, lost again, found again, etc. over the course of months and years. Perhaps you can see where this tale is going.
Fast forward to the present. My dad is still in touch with one of our old neighbors in that area, who told him that a few days ago, there was a bit of a ruckus at our old house. Police cars blocking the streets, a fire truck, two command vehicles, and a bomb-squad truck. (Although not huge, the town is rich from computer money, and has SPECTACULAR police and fire infrastructure. And there's a firehouse about 300 yards down the street from the house, by the way.)
Apparently, the family that now owns the house was digging in the flower-beds doing some re-planting (honestly, I bet I could guess the spot to within 5 yards), and unearthed what looked exactly like an unexploded hand grenade. It was just like the ones you see on TV, with a cast-iron "pineapple" fragmentation case, aluminum fuse-body and safety spoon, and a locking pin, complete with the steel pull-ring. Unlike my parents, would would have just rolled their eyes, the current residents did not consider munition-handling to be a routine part of gardening. They were a bit concerned with what they had found, and responded appropriately. I have no doubt that it once belonged to me and my brothers, and had been lost in action in the course of one of the wars we fought in that yard. Yes: A toy grenade that me and my brothers lost 20 years ago was the cause of a scare in a quiet suburban town.
Yeah. Sorry about that.
I really do feel bad about this. While I have to say it is a bit funny, I'm sure it really scared the shit out of bunch of people, and wasted a few man-hours of police time to get it sorted out. That having been said, I really wish I could have the grenade back, as a keepsake from my childhood, and generally cool memento.
When I was between the ages of about 6 and 16, my family lived in Northern California, in a quiet little residential neighborhood. VERY quiet. Tree-lined streets. Four schools, two churches, a candy store, a pet store, and a public park all within easy walking distance. THAT kind of quiet. I haven't been back there more than a handful of times in the last 15 years, but of course I remember it well.
So I grew up there with my two brothers, SW and GL, in a house with a big yard. The time frame included our pre-teen and teenage years, and this was LONG before 9-11, way back when you could buy real-looking toy guns that didn't even have bright-orange muzzles. As a family with three boys, we had plenty of those, and all sorts of other things that modern soft sensitivities and political-correctness have long since eradicated from the face of the earth.
Of course me, my brothers, and our friends would get tired of soccer, tag, whiffle-ball, and other sports, and would chase each other around with toy knives/swords/guns, and re-enact scenes from GI Joe, Robotech, Thundercats, or whatever. We were active boys. We didn't even have cable, just pirate HBO on a wood-cabinet TV without a remote, and neither SW's Atari 2600 nor (later) my NES really captivated us that much.
But we did have all sorts of toys that got us outside and running around, and not just sports gear. Among the cool shit that we had, thanks to having the usual male fascination with Army/Navy surplus stores, was some stuff that could only questionably be called "toys." For example: dummy grenades. (Google it.) Which are, in fact, actual United States Military surplus hand grenades, lacking only fuses, primers, and explosives. They are just like the ones you see on TV, with a cast-iron "pineapple" fragmentation case, aluminum fuse-body and safety spoon, and a locking pin, complete with the steel pull-ring. They look, feel, and ARE exactly like the real thing, except that they don't explode. Me and my brothers had a few of them, and they were BAD ASS. I've taken a quick look online, and looks like they're still legal to buy and own in most places, and are selling for about the same price that me, GL, and SW paid for ours, circa 1989: less than $10. In any rate, as pre-teen/teen boys, we were somewhat less than diligent about storage and/or maintenance of our toys - including our dummy grenades - which would routinely be lost, found, lost again, found again, etc. over the course of months and years. Perhaps you can see where this tale is going.
Fast forward to the present. My dad is still in touch with one of our old neighbors in that area, who told him that a few days ago, there was a bit of a ruckus at our old house. Police cars blocking the streets, a fire truck, two command vehicles, and a bomb-squad truck. (Although not huge, the town is rich from computer money, and has SPECTACULAR police and fire infrastructure. And there's a firehouse about 300 yards down the street from the house, by the way.)
Apparently, the family that now owns the house was digging in the flower-beds doing some re-planting (honestly, I bet I could guess the spot to within 5 yards), and unearthed what looked exactly like an unexploded hand grenade. It was just like the ones you see on TV, with a cast-iron "pineapple" fragmentation case, aluminum fuse-body and safety spoon, and a locking pin, complete with the steel pull-ring. Unlike my parents, would would have just rolled their eyes, the current residents did not consider munition-handling to be a routine part of gardening. They were a bit concerned with what they had found, and responded appropriately. I have no doubt that it once belonged to me and my brothers, and had been lost in action in the course of one of the wars we fought in that yard. Yes: A toy grenade that me and my brothers lost 20 years ago was the cause of a scare in a quiet suburban town.
Yeah. Sorry about that.
I really do feel bad about this. While I have to say it is a bit funny, I'm sure it really scared the shit out of bunch of people, and wasted a few man-hours of police time to get it sorted out. That having been said, I really wish I could have the grenade back, as a keepsake from my childhood, and generally cool memento.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Diax's Rake
With the sole exception of experience, intelligence is by far the most valuable commodity on the planet. This is due in large part to it being rare. That rarity is a bit of a mystery from a physics and chemistry standpoint. Aside from various congenital defects and instances of injury, most human brains are really very similar. While there are demonstrable physical differences between a healthy brain and one suffering from some sort of aphasia, the brains of most cardiothoracic surgeons are physically indistinguishable from the brains of most convenience store clerks. And if the subjects are both male, odds are that both of them spend about equal amounts of time thinking with (or about) their dicks. So it seems a bit odd that we’ll trust one to cut open a chest and fiddle with our internal organs, while we don’t trust the other to give us correct change for a Slurpee.
There are certain instances where unusual brain chemistry and neurotransmitter functions rig the game (google “synaptic plasticity”), creating people with photographic or eidetic memories. There are also ways to cheat at the intelligence game. This notably includes studying, but that’s a lot of work, beyond the interest of most people. But if you’re willing to make an effort, there are all sorts of cool things you can do with information media, mnemonics, and mental constructs (google “memory palace”) to capitalize on the generally holographic functioning of human thoughts and memory. Properly used (or even used at all), they can make you a lot smarter. Pretty much everybody’s brain will have some form of input that it prefers, and if you can figure out how your brain best absorbs and organizes information, you can suddenly get drastically smarter than you might have thought possible. Or at least you’ll be able to make yourself look a lot smarter to people around you, which is almost the same thing.
But most of that applies to abstract knowledge and information, not day to day functionality. By and large, I think day-to-day intelligence boils down to simply paying attention. The sad fact is that the vast majority of people - including doctors and lawyers at least as much as gas station attendants - spend a sizable portion of their lives staring off into space, not paying attention to what’s going on around them, and/or unable to hear ANYTHING over the should of how awesome they are. In The Rules, this is referred to as “The Star Of The Show” phenomenon. People stop and have conversations in the entryways of major department stores, not only not caring that they’re blocking the sole entrance to a 40,000 square foot establishment, but not even noticing that there are people walking the earth other than their own all-important selves. People wait in line at Starbucks, thinking evil thoughts about how long the people in line ahead of them are taking, and then get to the front of the line, and need to take a few moments to decide just what they want. Oh, and then dig into their pockets or purses for another minute, since they are going to have to pay, aren’t they? Just a second please, while they fill out a check.
Today, while I was attempting to order a double-double during the lunch rush, the line of 8 people got held up for literally two minutes, because the guy at the head of the line didn’t have quite enough money to pay for his order. He was trying to summon his wife over to the counter, so she could make up the difference. They had a yelling conversation across the restaurant, while she refused to leave the table she had staked out, for fear that someone else would take it while they went through the hassle of actually PAYING for the food they were hoping to enjoy there. I’m not just making this shit up, and I’m sure that everyone who’s reading this has a few anecdotal gems to share. People who send text messages while driving. Customer service “specialists” who don’t know a goddamn thing about how their own business works, and are completely incapable of addressing the situation you’re presenting, except to assure you that “your business is very important to us.” Whatever.
And we all do it. We can’t help it. We all have those moments where we space out and do stupid shit that needlessly delays, halts, or complicates the lives of those around us. It’s genetic: we’re human. Really, the best we can hope for is to have fewer and shorter spells in that mindset than those around us.
The truth is that if you can consistently manage to be just a little smarter than those around you, pretty much everything in life gets much, MUCH easier. You get through airport security much more easily if you’ve already untied your shoes, and tucked your wallet, watch, belt, and cellphone into the luggage going through the scanner. You can do all that BEFORE you get in line, you know. Really. You don’t need to wait until you’re standing at the metal detector before realizing that the change in your pocket is a problem, and could just as easily be jingling inside the pocket of your carry-on.
Heavy traffic is a lot easier to negotiate when you put away your cell-phone, turn off the radio, and actually pay attention to what’s going on around you. Indeed, if you’re paying attention, pretty much any instance of moving among the masses from Point A to Point B becomes a matter of finding the best ways to side-step any given knot of people (read: idiots) who almost always have only general idea where they’re going, and not much thought or imagination at all about how they’re going to get there.
When I have kids, the first and foremost lesson that I will teach them is to try to be just a little bit smarter than the people around then. They don’t have to be brilliant or exceptional. They don’t need to be superstars. Hell, they’re even entitled to their allotted moments of pig-headed stupidity, same as everyone else. But being successful in any given field of endeavor, and in life in general, is as simple as just being, on average, a little tiny bit smarter and more on the ball than the competition. And it’s really not all that hard. Look around, for Christ’s sake. You telling me that it’s really that tough to rise above what you see?
Life is about problem-solving. So be better than average. You don’t need to be great, just better than the people around you. You just need to be smart enough to notice what’s actually happening, instead of just thinking about what you wish were happening. You need to be able to come up with some rational explanatory theory for problems and situations you must deal with (Occam’s Razor is usually a good place to start, with “user error” and/or “human stupidity” as the go-to explanations). Then you need to be able to come up with a plan to solve the analyzed problem (or at least a plan to remedy the at-issue symptom). And it needs to be a workable, simple plan, not whatever it is that James Bond or Walker, Texas Ranger, would do.
It helps if you can also come through with occasional flashes of brilliance, especially in clutch moments. You know: those bits of work-product that make eyebrows rise, and people say “wow, that’s good shit.” Turns out that if demonstrate the ability to come through with absolutely spectacular results in your field, you will only actually have to do so once or twice in any given work year. And in the meantime, you will be able to get away with vastly more bullshit and slacking than colleagues or co-workers who can’t or don’t come through with those sorts of gems.
But other than that, you only want to be a LITTLE smarter than people around you. Not a LOT smarter, since that leads to a whole other set of problems. You end up with Dr. Temperance Brennan and Sheldon Cooper, Ph.D., type characters. You know; those dumb fucks who think that people mean the actual words they say. (“You have a ‘Sarcasm’ sign?”) Not so good. So I’m not talking mutant-smart here. Just Yogi, smarter-than-the-average-bear type. The one who sees the world a little better, while not just seeing numbers. Donald Trump, not Alan Greenspan.
It’s also important not to be so smart that you can’t get away with playing dumb. Because in terms of practical utility, acting convincingly dumb ranks just behind being consistently smart. It’s a great card to be able to play, and it will almost always work, especially if you can also throw in an admission that it’s your fault, and that you’ll do whatever it takes to make things right. The best way that I’ve found to get out of a jam is to simply fall on my sword and admit to the boss/opposing counsel/the court that, hey, I kinda fucked this up, can I have a mulligan? It’s DEFINITELY not something that you can overplay without consequences, but shit happens both because of things we do, and in spite of things we do. Playing dumb and/or admitting dumbness will get you through a lot of shit, especially if you don’t have to do it very often. Never underestimate people’s willingness to occasionally forgive you when presented with an opportunity to do so magnanimously and from on-high. And don’t get me wrong if I’m presenting this as an easy or fun out. Because it’s not. It’s actually pretty humiliating acting dumb and/or admitting that you’ve been dumb. But it works. It’s nice when people think highly of you, and that you’re clever and on the ball. Really, it’s very flattering. But it’s a hell of a lot more useful when the other guy thinks you’re an idiot.
Those are lessons I will instill in my children: just pay a bit more attention than people around you, and you will get most things right. When you get something wrong, and have been caught at it, just admit you’re wrong, and make it right.
As an incidental point, these lessons to my prospective children will be followed by a closely related lesson: the best way to live a life free of serious strife, worry, or work is to go into a field based on and driven by human idiocy, insecurity, or greed. Law. Politics. Mass media. Insurance. Psychology. Medicine. Those fields will ALWAYS be growth industries, by simple operation of scalar economics: there is no conceivable limit on mankind’s ability to cause needless strife, blow things out of proportion, need bailing out, and/or need hearing that things are going to be okay, and it’s not their fault. If you can get into any of those fields, and still be just a little smarter than the people around you, you’re going to do okay. The philistines will rob each other blind to pay you your salary.
Lots of people like to spout philosophical drivel about the point where the angel meets the ape. For my part, I’m more interested getting and keeping me and my family fed and happy. And it’s really not that tough to live well and be happy.
There are certain instances where unusual brain chemistry and neurotransmitter functions rig the game (google “synaptic plasticity”), creating people with photographic or eidetic memories. There are also ways to cheat at the intelligence game. This notably includes studying, but that’s a lot of work, beyond the interest of most people. But if you’re willing to make an effort, there are all sorts of cool things you can do with information media, mnemonics, and mental constructs (google “memory palace”) to capitalize on the generally holographic functioning of human thoughts and memory. Properly used (or even used at all), they can make you a lot smarter. Pretty much everybody’s brain will have some form of input that it prefers, and if you can figure out how your brain best absorbs and organizes information, you can suddenly get drastically smarter than you might have thought possible. Or at least you’ll be able to make yourself look a lot smarter to people around you, which is almost the same thing.
But most of that applies to abstract knowledge and information, not day to day functionality. By and large, I think day-to-day intelligence boils down to simply paying attention. The sad fact is that the vast majority of people - including doctors and lawyers at least as much as gas station attendants - spend a sizable portion of their lives staring off into space, not paying attention to what’s going on around them, and/or unable to hear ANYTHING over the should of how awesome they are. In The Rules, this is referred to as “The Star Of The Show” phenomenon. People stop and have conversations in the entryways of major department stores, not only not caring that they’re blocking the sole entrance to a 40,000 square foot establishment, but not even noticing that there are people walking the earth other than their own all-important selves. People wait in line at Starbucks, thinking evil thoughts about how long the people in line ahead of them are taking, and then get to the front of the line, and need to take a few moments to decide just what they want. Oh, and then dig into their pockets or purses for another minute, since they are going to have to pay, aren’t they? Just a second please, while they fill out a check.
Today, while I was attempting to order a double-double during the lunch rush, the line of 8 people got held up for literally two minutes, because the guy at the head of the line didn’t have quite enough money to pay for his order. He was trying to summon his wife over to the counter, so she could make up the difference. They had a yelling conversation across the restaurant, while she refused to leave the table she had staked out, for fear that someone else would take it while they went through the hassle of actually PAYING for the food they were hoping to enjoy there. I’m not just making this shit up, and I’m sure that everyone who’s reading this has a few anecdotal gems to share. People who send text messages while driving. Customer service “specialists” who don’t know a goddamn thing about how their own business works, and are completely incapable of addressing the situation you’re presenting, except to assure you that “your business is very important to us.” Whatever.
And we all do it. We can’t help it. We all have those moments where we space out and do stupid shit that needlessly delays, halts, or complicates the lives of those around us. It’s genetic: we’re human. Really, the best we can hope for is to have fewer and shorter spells in that mindset than those around us.
The truth is that if you can consistently manage to be just a little smarter than those around you, pretty much everything in life gets much, MUCH easier. You get through airport security much more easily if you’ve already untied your shoes, and tucked your wallet, watch, belt, and cellphone into the luggage going through the scanner. You can do all that BEFORE you get in line, you know. Really. You don’t need to wait until you’re standing at the metal detector before realizing that the change in your pocket is a problem, and could just as easily be jingling inside the pocket of your carry-on.
Heavy traffic is a lot easier to negotiate when you put away your cell-phone, turn off the radio, and actually pay attention to what’s going on around you. Indeed, if you’re paying attention, pretty much any instance of moving among the masses from Point A to Point B becomes a matter of finding the best ways to side-step any given knot of people (read: idiots) who almost always have only general idea where they’re going, and not much thought or imagination at all about how they’re going to get there.
When I have kids, the first and foremost lesson that I will teach them is to try to be just a little bit smarter than the people around then. They don’t have to be brilliant or exceptional. They don’t need to be superstars. Hell, they’re even entitled to their allotted moments of pig-headed stupidity, same as everyone else. But being successful in any given field of endeavor, and in life in general, is as simple as just being, on average, a little tiny bit smarter and more on the ball than the competition. And it’s really not all that hard. Look around, for Christ’s sake. You telling me that it’s really that tough to rise above what you see?
Life is about problem-solving. So be better than average. You don’t need to be great, just better than the people around you. You just need to be smart enough to notice what’s actually happening, instead of just thinking about what you wish were happening. You need to be able to come up with some rational explanatory theory for problems and situations you must deal with (Occam’s Razor is usually a good place to start, with “user error” and/or “human stupidity” as the go-to explanations). Then you need to be able to come up with a plan to solve the analyzed problem (or at least a plan to remedy the at-issue symptom). And it needs to be a workable, simple plan, not whatever it is that James Bond or Walker, Texas Ranger, would do.
It helps if you can also come through with occasional flashes of brilliance, especially in clutch moments. You know: those bits of work-product that make eyebrows rise, and people say “wow, that’s good shit.” Turns out that if demonstrate the ability to come through with absolutely spectacular results in your field, you will only actually have to do so once or twice in any given work year. And in the meantime, you will be able to get away with vastly more bullshit and slacking than colleagues or co-workers who can’t or don’t come through with those sorts of gems.
But other than that, you only want to be a LITTLE smarter than people around you. Not a LOT smarter, since that leads to a whole other set of problems. You end up with Dr. Temperance Brennan and Sheldon Cooper, Ph.D., type characters. You know; those dumb fucks who think that people mean the actual words they say. (“You have a ‘Sarcasm’ sign?”) Not so good. So I’m not talking mutant-smart here. Just Yogi, smarter-than-the-average-bear type. The one who sees the world a little better, while not just seeing numbers. Donald Trump, not Alan Greenspan.
It’s also important not to be so smart that you can’t get away with playing dumb. Because in terms of practical utility, acting convincingly dumb ranks just behind being consistently smart. It’s a great card to be able to play, and it will almost always work, especially if you can also throw in an admission that it’s your fault, and that you’ll do whatever it takes to make things right. The best way that I’ve found to get out of a jam is to simply fall on my sword and admit to the boss/opposing counsel/the court that, hey, I kinda fucked this up, can I have a mulligan? It’s DEFINITELY not something that you can overplay without consequences, but shit happens both because of things we do, and in spite of things we do. Playing dumb and/or admitting dumbness will get you through a lot of shit, especially if you don’t have to do it very often. Never underestimate people’s willingness to occasionally forgive you when presented with an opportunity to do so magnanimously and from on-high. And don’t get me wrong if I’m presenting this as an easy or fun out. Because it’s not. It’s actually pretty humiliating acting dumb and/or admitting that you’ve been dumb. But it works. It’s nice when people think highly of you, and that you’re clever and on the ball. Really, it’s very flattering. But it’s a hell of a lot more useful when the other guy thinks you’re an idiot.
Those are lessons I will instill in my children: just pay a bit more attention than people around you, and you will get most things right. When you get something wrong, and have been caught at it, just admit you’re wrong, and make it right.
As an incidental point, these lessons to my prospective children will be followed by a closely related lesson: the best way to live a life free of serious strife, worry, or work is to go into a field based on and driven by human idiocy, insecurity, or greed. Law. Politics. Mass media. Insurance. Psychology. Medicine. Those fields will ALWAYS be growth industries, by simple operation of scalar economics: there is no conceivable limit on mankind’s ability to cause needless strife, blow things out of proportion, need bailing out, and/or need hearing that things are going to be okay, and it’s not their fault. If you can get into any of those fields, and still be just a little smarter than the people around you, you’re going to do okay. The philistines will rob each other blind to pay you your salary.
Lots of people like to spout philosophical drivel about the point where the angel meets the ape. For my part, I’m more interested getting and keeping me and my family fed and happy. And it’s really not that tough to live well and be happy.
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