This is part three in a continuing discussion–or monologue if you choose to make it so–on what happens when positive, happy Americans get a taste of Samurai Management. To follow the discussion from the beginning click over to: American Culture and Positive Reinforcement: What’s the Connection?, then (if the spirit moves you) check out When Positive Reinforcement Clashes with Japanese Negativity.

Or you can just skip all that and start here. I’m picking up where I left off in my last post, with another spot-on observation by Darren.

The Impact of Collectivism

Darren hit the nail on the head with his collectivism remark–the idea that “blowing too much sunshine” toward any individual in Japan would naturally make that person the proverbial “nail that sticks up”. (Yeah, we’ve got a “nail” metaphor going here.) So if you ever want to embarrass a Japanese coworker, for example, try this little experiment: put him in front of a crowd and start heaping on the praise. He will frantically start bowing while waiving a hand in front of his face, deny the accolades and instead redirect it toward the group or a superior. Why? Because everyone in Japan knows that “the nail that sticks up gets hammered down”. So the safest path is to avoid drawing attention to oneself. I’m guessing that if some of my Japanese friends had to choose between positive public recognition or a public scolding, some might actually prefer the latter.

It’s worth mentioning that in old-school Japanese workplaces it’s acceptable to publicly chew out a subordinate, the purpose (if you believe my Japanese mentors) is to ensure everyone else learns from the errant person’s mistake. It’s not hard to imagine what happens when Japanese managers employ this approach in the U.S. workplace. (It has indeed inspired and manifested entire seminars!) Many Japanese managers have to be taught not to publicly scold.

Generational Issues

If you believe what Japan’s “older generation” is saying, the Spartan Samurai culture is being replaced with a softer, more genteel “positive” approach. And the old-timers don’t like it one bit! (Even Samurai wife describes the youngsters as “a bunch of lightweights”–but for the record I’m not lumping my wife into the “older generation” category. )

And we can’t ignore the “little emperor syndrome”. This custom is also going through an evolution of sorts. (Alluded to in a previous post.) No doubt there’s an element of child worship in Japanese culture. But traditionally the little Japanese gods and goddesses only got to rule the world until the onset of school, when teachers sternly took control and started hammering away.

But that’s old-school Japan. Times are indeed a changing.

Kurumi saw the change firsthand as a schoolteacher when she taught Japanese weekend supplementary school several years ago. In the good old days Japanese teachers could employ whatever disciplinary means–negative or positive–necessary to get the job done. (Flashback to the Catholic nuns, aaah!) According to my wife and her teacher friends, many Japanese parents now come to school to defend their kids–with little consideration about whether the kid is right or wrong.

Don’t misconstrue my point: I suffered the consequences of the old-school “beat-‘em-up” approach, and believe it has no relevance today. But you have to wonder if the new way hasn’t backlashed to an equally unhealthy extreme. With all this happy positive reinforcement going on it seems that too many of the new breed aren’t tough enough to take criticism from others–nor are they inclined to look inward and critique themselves. Very bad combination there. The significance of this attitude in the workplace is that it’s the worst mindset possible if an organization hopes to create a sustainable continuous improvement culture.

For what it’s worth, I believe the enlightened approach to management and training attempts to strike a healthy balance between the positive and the negative, which means leaders provide both positive and negative feedback–always with respect and compassion.

But the real key is to get others to practice hansei or “self reflection”. Imagine if you could get everyone in your organization constantly reflecting on how to improve themselves? Think about the power of this idea. It’s the essence of what Toyota and Honda are trying to create within their organizations, the very foundation of a continuous improvement culture. Leaders best promote this behavior by practicing reflection themselves, and institutionalizing the practice within their organizations.

Discussion continues in the next post…

Copyright © Tim Sullivan 2009

Positive Reinforcement: “The giving of encouragement to a particular behavior with the intended result that it is more likely to be repeated.”

I recently wrote a piece on American Culture and Positive Reinforcement. I received some thought-provoking responses. Rather than adding a long comment to the original post, I decided to continue the conversation here.

Does Positive Reinforcement (Necessarily) Land Upon Cultural Lines?

Let’s start with Darren’s comment that he “takes issue with the implied premise that ‘positive reinforcement’ lands upon cultural lines.”

I agree that positive reinforcement doesn’t necessarily land along Japanese/American cultural lines. It could just as easily be generational changes in values and behavior, or as Darren points out, differences in subcultures within any given country.

It’s easy to get tangled up in semantics. Darren understands this, but for those who don’t, I’d like to point out that the notion of “cultural differences” doesn’t only refer to cultural gaps between nations. Cultural differences exist between my father’s generation and mine. They exist within the borders of my country, between North and South and East and West– not to mention the cultural differences between Irish Americans and German Americans and African Americans and Native Americans, etc. Japan also has issues of diversity (Kanto versus Kansai, etc.), but obviously not as dramatic as the US.

The reality is that cultural tendencies do exist–and clash–in mixed Japanese/American workplaces, especially when you focus on positive versus negative approaches to training and management.

Mixed-culture workplaces have a way of highlighting behavior patterns that you might not otherwise notice. I can’t remember ever working with a Japanese transplant in the U.S. that didn’t experience friction due to Japanese (perceived) “negativity” and the Japanese boss’s reluctance to pat subordinates on the back. This distinct pattern provides ample proof that a huge cultural gap does indeed exist, certainly within the context of the workplace.

Why Are Japanese So Negative?

In highlighting the gaps, it’s instructive to not only ask why Americans are so enamored with positive reinforcement, but also consider why Japanese take such a negative approach to developing employees.

I submit that Japanese “negativity” is a product of the Confucian hierarchy (bushido version) and Japan’s traditional epistemological framework best described as “radical-empiricism-meets-bushido”, the idea that the only way to learn is through experience, repetition and getting beat up (usually in the figurative sense). A representative model of the traditional Japanese teaching approach is the Japanese karate instructor: he only critiques what’s wrong, never offers praise about what’s right.

In this framework it’s impossible to ignore the sensei-deshi (teacher-pupil) hierarchy and its implications within the framework of Japan’s “totei seido” (apprenticeship) system. In a Japanese-style apprenticeship program the student is expected to suffer in order to improve, to “steal” the boss’s knowledge and techniques rather than wait to be taught. (Now there’s an operative word if I ever heard one: “steal”. Operative because the Japanese boss doesn’t give explicit feedback to subordinates: his loyal deshi gotta come dig for the knowledge–while the Japanese boss beats them up for every little mistake they make.)

There’s a great quote about totei seido in Robert Whiting’s book, The Meaning of Ichiro: the new Wave from Japan and the Transformation of our National Pastime:

“Orix’s pint-sized manager Shozo Doi believed in what was known as the totei seido (apprenticeship system), long evident in many areas of Japanese society from small factories to large corporations and government offices. To Doi, totei seido meant baseball rookies should endure a certain amount of pain and suffering and should not be allowed to experience too much success too early…Thus, after Ichiro, in his first season as a professional, had led the Japanese minor leagues in batting with a .366 average in 58 games and compiled a .253 average in 40 games with the parent team, Doi returned him to the farm club early the following year.”

Doi explained his rationale as such:

“Ichiro had come too fast too far. He was progressing without any problems. A player has to know hardship if he’s going to reach his full potential.”

No surprise that the poor deshi in Japan make lots of mistakes while struggling to emulate the sensei. Every time a mistake is made the boss lets the deshi know it, sometimes in a nice way, more often in a gruff, harsh way (depending, of course, on whether the boss is a “wizened Zen Master” or “Crazy Samurai” type personality).

Now I’m wondering if apprenticeship-style systems around the world might share this negative approach. My dad was a pipefitter who learned his trade within the apprenticeship system. Like the Japanese, when he got in his teaching mode he favored the “negative reinforcement” approach (my term). Not always. But he was hard on us–not to be mean but to push us to be better, not unlike former Japanese bosses. (Not implying here that it worked in my case, just that the negativity was driven by good intentions. )

In regard to my father’s “Japanese-style” approach, I believe it’s a generational issue. But I can’t help but wonder if it has anything to do with apprenticeship culture (particularly in the trades). If anyone has an opinion on this please enlighten me.

The discussion continues in my next post…

Copyright © Tim Sullivan 2009

Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.

Buddha

Lots of bitching and moaning going on these days about the simmering teacher-furlough controversy here in Hawaii. I’m not being condescending–I’m as guilty as the next guy. Sometimes it feels so good to complain. Indeed it’s therapeutic. That is, until the law of diminishing returns kicks in and the anger starts eating you up inside. (Can you tell I’m ticked off?)

I’ll fess up here and say that my primary source of “complaint material” comes from punaweb. But it’s everywhere: newspapers, blogs, letters to the editor, not to mention lots of good old-fashioned human-to-human venting.

For the record I think it’s wonderful we have a forum like punaweb where folks can vent, pontificate, analyze and brainstorm. But sometimes the negativity gets old…depressing is a better word.

So my intent here is to chuck the negativity and get out of the damn box. I’ll start by suggesting that we all put behind us the anger and stop complaining. It’s time to belly up to the bar, folks. For there’s no better way to improve a situation than each of us asking a very simple question: what can I do?

I’ve got a few ideas. Nothing earth-shattering mind you, just a small personal contribution. Keep in mind that I’m not suggesting my ideas apply to others; we all have different situations, limitations, skills, and resources. But there’s something each of us can contribute. It might be money, participation in fund-raising activities, political activism or just volunteering your time to share knowledge and skills to help the keiki.

Or…a multitude of other great ideas beyond my feeble imagination. What I know for sure is that it’s really gonna take a village to crack this nut. That’s why I’m asking for your help–for the sake of our kids, for the sake of our future.

Before going there I’d be remiss not to first ask, What can I do?

1) I’d be willing to volunteer my time to teach language/culture/communication on Fridays. (When I’m not traveling I work at home so it’s feasible for me. Retirees would seem to be in a better position to do this than most working folks. Who knows–if enough of us volunteer we might be able to fill an entire Friday so parents of students could work that day.)

2) I will donate money directly to our local charter school whenever I can (as much as I can afford, no more no less).

3) I will email our political leaders in Hawaii and demand they change their evil/ignorant ways. (Not that it will do any good–and forgive me for being so cynical–but I figure the effort will at least be a therapeutic exercise in blowing off steam.)

My better half and I are working on a couple other relevant projects not yet ready for public consumption. If the stars align I’ll be covering them in a future post. Stay tuned.

For now, this is all I’ve got to offer. But it’s a start. I’d sure appreciate hearing your ideas too.

What can you do to help?

Copyright © Tim Sullivan 2009

I’ll preface this post by saying that this is a personal record: it’s the first time I’ve ever posted twice in one day. Don’t get used to it…

When I train non-Japanese clients on Japanese expectations of customer service, I do my best to paint a picture with words. But there’s no substitute for direct experience, and for this reason I always encourage clients to visit Japan to benchmark “the best in the world.” When it comes to serving customers, Japan is indeed the cream of the cream.

But if you can’t visit Japan then the next best thing (for folks in Hawaii anyway) is Big Island Candies. The next best thing after that is seeing Japanese customer service in action via the magic of youtube.

Below is a short clip taken on the shinkansen (bullet train) from Tokyo to Atami. The bullet train is my favorite way to travel in Japan. It feels like a cross between a train and an airplane. What’s really cool is the food and beverage service. It’s not free, of course, but the quality is way above airline food, and the service is exceptional. And they even serve beer! Another subtle but wonderful aspect of the bullet train is that they welded all the rails together so there’s no annoying clickity-clack to deal with: it feels like you’re flying…minus the turbulence.

Yeah, they really know how to take care of customers here. But don’t take my word for it–check it out for yourself. (I figured that if a picture is worth a 1,000 words then a video is worth at least 10,000, no?) The clip below is of the “snack lady” doing her job with dedication and professionalism. What impresses me every time is how the servers bow before entering and leaving the train car. The conductors do the same.

So take heed America: we’ve got a long way to go to match the Japanese level of customer service. The only negative I can think of is that the high Japanese standard has spoiled me; now I’m ruined for life. Can’t imagine anyone else ever measuring up.

So here you go, the shinkansen snack lady in action:

What? Thought I was going to start bashing Japan? Not this guy. I love it here. Almost as much as I love Hawaii. Truth be told, if I had my druthers I’d live here six months out of the year, preferably spring and fall. And if the stars align it’s a real possibility…someday.

Or perhaps you thought my trip here had taken a bad turn? Nope, everything is hunky-dory. Really. In fact just finished up a really fun gig in Tokyo. Certainly the uphill battle of preparing to administer an intensive 3-day cross-cultural, team-building exercise can be exhausting. But when clients send me off with a smile on their faces it makes it all worth it.

So it’s all downhill from here, and I mean that in a good way. Got 4 more days to enjoy my beloved Japan without any worries or pressure.

So what’s the meaning of the title of this post? Real simple: it’s another clip of driving downhill from my in-laws house into the town of Atami. We had a very friendly cab driver, not the norm here by any stretch of the imagination. What’s interesting is the local pride: the cabbie assured us that “Tokyo cab drivers” don’t have the skill to maneuver through these narrow 2-way streets. And even if they did, most would likely get lost.

On a final note, I can’t believe that I used to drive these roads 20-plus years ago. It’s so intimidating now but I’m sure I could re-adapt if I had to. (But why bother? The train system is awesome here.)

So without further ado…going downhill in Japan:

Just got back from a fun trip to Tokyo. Spent time with a couple old friends then headed over to one of our very important clients, Kalei Lehua Hula Halau.

For readers new to this blog, in May of this year we brought over 24 hula instructors from this halau for a hula retreat. (Check out When Japan Meets Pele.) It was a 5-day intensive program focused on traditional Kahiko style hula. The program was a resounding success (thanks to the great instruction from Kumu Hula Kiwala’o! )–and we made some great new friends in the process!

I’m a bit shy about posting my own pictures (if you had a mug like mine you would be too). But we’ll make this a special case. Note the big grin on my face. I’m in heaven! (With Samurai Wife close-by had to behave myself. )

I mentioned we were going to Osaka to visit Kalei Lehua’s other studio. Well that’s exactly what we did. More lovely hula dancers. Tough job but someone’s gotta do it!

Boy did we have fun with this group of lovely ladies–beer and okonomiyaki!

Now tell me, who wouldn’t love my job?

Copyright © Tim Sullivan 2009

Ever wonder what a typical Japanese home looks like? Well now you know.

Indeed my Japanese in-laws are “typical” in many ways…with a few exceptions:

Exception 1: Most Japanese aren’t lucky enough to live in Atami, a hot-springs resort historically considered the ideal honeymoon destination. But Atami has lost its luster through the years as Hawaii became more and more popular as a vacation destination. But it’s still a great place to visit. Some Japanese friends say it’s now cheaper to vacation in Hawaii than in Japan. (Not sure if the claim holds up under scrutiny, but with the strong yen it’s likely not far from the truth.)

Exception 2: Most Japanese families don’t have a “foreign barbarian” (that would be me) as a son-in-law. And how many barbarians speak Japanese? This worked in my favor and elevated my status to “acceptable barbarian”. Truth be told, my mother-in-law was shocked when my wife informed her 26 years ago that we were tying the knot. But to our utter surprise Japanese dad embraced the idea (not at all typical). In retrospect my wife and I have concluded that deep down dad was thrilled about his daughter marrying an American. And the proof is in the pudding: we’ve grown close over the years–and even mom has come around. But make no mistake about it: I had to earn her approval. It helps that we gave her 2 grandchildren and made the marriage work. (The Japanese stereotype of Americans is that we all get divorced. Last I checked the U.S divorce rate was hovering around 50%, so it’s not a stretch to call this a “half-truth”.)

Exception 3: Most Japanese don’t have an ocean view like this:

No, it’s not Hawaii. But by Japanese standards it’s about as good an ocean view as you’re going to get.

Enough of the exceptions. In an earlier post I wrote about Japanese attitudes toward death. Below is a picture of a typical Japanese “Butsudan”, a portable alter for the home to honor deceased relatives. This is all about traditional Japanese ancestral worship. The Butsudan below is set up for my wife’s late grandfather and grandmother. Every night my mother-in-law makes an offering. This has nothing to do with a belief in the afterlife as my in-laws are not religious folks at all; it’s about bringing memories of the deceased into this world. Mom continues to keep the tradition alive, evidence of the power of culture in driving behavior.

The most striking physical feature of Japan is how “crowded” everything is and the narrowness of the streets. Indeed when I drive in Japan I feel like a mouse scrambling around in a maze. In Atami it’s not just a maze, it’s a maze with a very steep grade–think Waipio Valley. The video below was taken from our camera as a taxi driver brought us home from town. Check out the driver’s white gloves; taxis are extremely clean and well-maintained in Japan, and drivers treat customers with utmost respect (with rare exceptions).

Copyright © Tim Sullivan 2009

“Reach for the stars. And if you ever get there, it means you didn’t reach high enough.”

My dad

Recently a client asked me about the cultural significance of “positive reinforcement” in America. In other words, what (if any) American values drive the popularity of this approach to developing employees, children, etc.?

I didn’t have a good answer. So I’m reaching out to my wise and esteemed readers for your take on the issue.

But first some background for context.

The reason the question was even asked is because Japanese and Americans who work together struggle with this issue: Americans like everything to be positive and happy (“Good job!”), while Japanese dwell on the empty part of the glass (“You must do better!”). To get your head around the Japanese approach, think of the young Zen pupil being whacked into enlightenment with the swing of the Master’s stick.

Needless to say the “whack-subordinates-over-the-head” motivation technique doesn’t fly with American employees. In extreme cases it leads to open conflict.

And here’s the problem: American employees who work for Japanese transplants often don’t understand that the very essence of the kaizen philosophy (“continuous improvement”) is negative in nature; it’s the ongoing, never-ending search for the next dragon to slay. (See Learning to Love Problems)

A Japanese executive once told me that patting people on the back was a waste of time because it didn’t help improve the person or organization. This particular manager was notorious for riding subordinates hard, especially the ones who showed the most potential.

So here’s my confusion. Based on the above criteria I can only conclude that my dad was Japanese! And so were my two older siblings, my elementary school nuns, my Pop Warner football coaches, the Jesuit priests who ran my high school, not to mention my Company Commander in boot camp.

What happened to MY positive reinforcement?

Then I started thinking. It wasn’t just me. All my childhood friends had the same kind of hard-ass dad–think Red Foreman on That Seventies Show:

Eric: Dad, why do bad things always happen to me?

Red: Because you’re a DUMBASS!

That’s how fathers talked to their sons back then. In dad’s mind it was his fatherly duty to toughen me up for the cruel world that lay ahead. (Only moms were allowed to be nurturing and positive.)

With this backdrop I’ll throw out my questions for discussion:

1) Is “positive reinforcement” an American (Western) phenomenon rooted in certain traditional values, for example rugged individualism, self-reliance, manifest destiny, etc.?

2) Or is it a recent phenomenon embraced by a new generation of Americans? For example, driven by the child-psychology movement in the 1970s?

3) Or something else entirely?

Thanks in advance for your thoughts!

Copyright © Tim Sullivan 2009

Trust me, I’m more carpentry-challenged than even a caveman. And the only thing I’ve ever grown prolifically were dandelions. Needless to say gardening has been a challenge for this ex-city-boy.

What could possibly go wrong in my Hawaii garden? Let me count the ways:

1) Too much rain ruins tomatoes, lettuce and other leafy veggies
2) The birds eat your crop (pecked holes in all my tomatoes last year!)
3) The bugs eat your crop
4) The dogs (if you have any) eat your crop
5) And African snails slime your crop with nasty parasites

The solution? Why it’s Tim’s amazing mini-greenhouse! So simple even Tim can build it.

How so?

First, screwed four 2×10s into a rectangle, just like they taught me in Cub Scouts. Made the box 3 feet wide and matched the length to standard corrugated panels, 8 feet. When the screws were snug I gave the box a couple precision kicks until it was square. Didn’t put a brace on the bottom but in retrospect should have.

For a couple days I mulled over what to use for arches. Then a friend brought to my attention the bend-ability of a PVC-like exterior trim he found at Home Depot. (Can’t recall the product name.) Bought a 12′ board and cut it into three 4-foot lengths, bent each one to fit inside the 3-foot width of the box, one at each end and one in the middle. Then I screwed in each side of each arch.

On one side of the arches (the “fixed” side) I laid a piece of corrugated and screwed it in using bottle caps as grommets (just because I felt like recycling something). The other corrugated panel functions as the lid for the other side; to give it weight and a place for handles, I cut an 8′ length of the flex-trim and screwed it along the long edge of the panel. The lid can be taken off completely or just set on top of the fixed corrugated piece. (Future improvement: screw another piece of flex-trim onto the other long side of the lid panel for extra weight and stability.)

And to close off the ends I stapled on some screen then trimmed off the excess. Note the rippled foam at the ends to plug the “corrugate gaps”. If we wanted to further snail-proof it, we could also put a strip of copper tape around the box. But so far we’ve seen nary a snail. (We wash veggies as our last line of defense anyway.)

What else we got? Kale and…arugula?

And crispy Japanese cucumbers!

I’d be remiss not to mention that the inspiration for this simple design came from Jay Fitzgerald. Thanks Jay!

Just took his idea and enhanced it a little…my Japanese roots coming to the fore?

Copyright © Tim Sullivan 2009

It’s been a whirlwind month: two business trips to the mainland that took a 60-hour chunk out of my life just in commute time. And this doesn’t even count the extra day stuck in Chicago due to fog.

The good news is the gigs made the commutes worth it. (Hey I love my job, what can I say?) And who would have the audacity to complain about going to work in these tough times anyway? Lots of blessings to count even as I vent.

What’s scary is I’m getting used to the airports and long plane rides. Lot’s of ways to cope but they all center around finding quality in the moment, something I’ve been focusing on this past week.

The toughest part of any mainland gig is “getting to work”. More often than not my destinations are in the Midwest and Deep South, which means I arrive in the morning, at best with a couple hours of sleep under my belt (that is when I’m lucky enough not to be seated next to a screaming kid). Worst case I don’t sleep at all. But when I’m really lucky the airline lets me cash in frequent flier miles for the privilege to sit in First Class. So far no screaming kids have made it to the front of the plane.

So I arrive at my work destination in the morning. Rather than twiddling my thumbs all day in a hotel room, I do my first gig directly off the red-eye, usually an afternoon session in Japanese. I always worry that in such a sleep-deprived state my “Japanese brain” might somehow shut down, but it’s never happened. If anything, I get in a zone and everything flows.

After the gig I grab dinner, hang on til 9:00 pm then hit the sack. The next day I’m up at 6:00 am bright-eyed and bushy-tailed , knowing my toughest day is behind me. Then I do my thing for a few days until it’s time to head home. The return flight to Hawaii is so much happier than the somber red-eye to the mainland. And when I’m surrounded by all theses happy, excited folks on vacation, it makes me appreciate living in Hawaii that much more.

But the first day of any mainland trip is never as bad as my hyper-active imagination would have me believe. And herein lies a lesson I’ve learned sitting on airplanes for 9-hours at a time: fretting about a future event out of one’s control is a very low-quality way to spend time and energy. A much better approach is to focus your attention on finding quality in the here and now. I call this the “Zen mindset.”

The Zen Mindset

In previous posts I’ve alluded to the “Zen Mind”. I use this expression not in a “religious” sense, but rather to describe a state of mind that dwells not on the past nor frets about the future, a mind immersed in the quality moments available only here, only now.

My concept of the Zen mind came together after years of observing Japanese mentors attack problems in factories (viewed within the framework of Pirsig’s “Metaphysics of Quality”). Whenever problems occurred, my mentors would never fail to “go to the spot”; they all had the uncanny ability to jump into the “here-and-now” at will, to forget about their assumptions from past experiences, and stay disciplined enough not to jump to conclusions awaiting in the future. Their focus was always on “understanding the current situation” before taking any action. They all wanted to know, What’s happening now!

I’ve learned to appreciate the value of here and now. And now when I find myself on a cramped airplane or stuck in Chicago–or just spending too much time on the internet–I seek refuge in the here-and-now.

On airplanes I read, write, sleep or listen to my ipod. I ponder what’s important in life and focus on appreciating everything I have.

And when I got stuck in Chicago this last time, the here and now didn’t disappoint. I made the best of the situation by spending quality time with my 3 younger siblings, munching on deep-dish pizza, enjoying our time together. It was a blessing because I chose to appreciate the moment.

How’s that for a Zen experience?

Reflecting on the plane ride back it dawned on me that I don’t spend nearly enough time here and now. So last week, to put balance back into my universe, I tore myself away from the computer (for the most part), away from work, away from the past and future, and just putzed around my yard aimlessly. My motivation? Beautify everything in site and get my garden ready.

Now I just need to manifest a truckload of dirt, plant my seeds and enjoy the ride. Stay tuned.

For more on Tim’s poor gardening practices and warped sense of Zen, you won’t want to miss my next post, “So Easy a Caveman Can Build It“.

Copyright © Tim Sullivan 2009