Why I Never Call Myself an “Expert”

Random musings about goats and experts and the “beginner mindset”…

Years ago when someone asked Michael Jordan if he was “The G.O.A.T.” (=“Greatest Of All Time”), his answer resonated. I paraphrase: “It’s not up to me to make that determination, it is up to the fans.”

Or something like that.

Similarly, what makes someone an “expert”?

I’ll never forget how a shipmate back in the Navy once defined it: “Whoever in the room has the most knowledge about a given topic is the expert.”

If you accept that definition, then “expert” is a relative term.

Extending that logic, no matter how much knowledge I might believe I have about a given subject, somewhere, someone knows more about it than I do.

For this reason, you will never see the word “expert” in my profile. It is a label for clients to bestow or not bestow on me.

And the more I interact with fellow “Japan-hands,” the more it confirms my belief that I have no business calling myself an expert.

In lieu of expert, I prefer the Japanese expression “beginner’s mind” (初心) because it keeps me humble and hungry to learn. For this reason and more, I aspire to associate with folks who can teach this old dog new tricks. (I wish y’all could meet my friends, some of the most humble, talented, and intelligent people you could meet.)

In my professional niches (cross-cultural management, hospitality/customer service, manufacturing, communication training, etc), I certainly have unique life experiences and communication skills that past clients valued and were willing to pay for.

But I have met so many people over the years who have expanded my knowledge about Japanese culture, even within my own niches. Even more so since I moved back to Japan six years ago.

So I cringe when I see fake-it-til-you-make it folks proclaiming their expertise here or elsewhere. Personally, I assign more credibility to people who are (to quote Confucius) “modest in speech, but exceed in action.”

If you want to virtually meet some of the talented folks who continually remind me of how much I have to learn, check out Maya Matsuoka and my podcast every Wednesday morning at 8:00am JST (simultaneously streaming on LinkedIn, YouTube, and Clubhouse) where we discuss issues related to Japanese business culture.

© Tim Sullivan 2024

Rambling Jack: A (sort of) true story about a Japanese stray cat

Here’s a sneak peak at my recent recording of an original tune.

This song’s original iteration was for my 4th~6th grade students at a Juku (ステップ学習塾) in Yamato Japan back in the mid-1980s.

It is a true (albeit greatly exaggerated) story about a stray cat that my wife took in years ago before we got married. And yes, his name was Jack.

Well, this is the ADULT version of that song. (Rated somewhere between PG13 and R?)

Forgive the (pre)mix quality, as I didn’t want to spend too much time mixing until I got a drum track. Time will tell if I ever get one!

Anyway, this is my “first time” experience on several fronts.

It’s the first time I attempted to program in a bass line. (As you’ll see, very basic, mostly playing the root notes of each chord.)

Also the first time I attempted my own harmony arrangement and actually sang it. (Harmonies are hard for me!)

If and when I get a drum track, it’ll be my first attempt at mixing.

Lastly, the video uses generative AI for the images. My preference would be to standardize Jack and Chichi’s look throughout the story. Sadly, AI doesn’t do that. And unfortunately, I am not an artist, so I am completely helpless to make it happen.

For now, this is what I came up with. Enjoy.

Lonely Keyboard Ninja: What are online trolls thinking?

I recently saw a short clip of Ed Sheeran talking about song writing. I haven’t paid much attention to his music, but I know he is a popular and prolific song writer. He said that like everyone, when he started writing songs, he sucked. He said he just started writing them, and the more songs he wrote, the better he got at it.

So. I am going to follow Ed’s advice and keep writing songs until I get good at it. Assuming I live long enough to get there!

So I’ve been working on an original tune titled “Rambling Jack.” I intended to have it mixed by now, but my drummer buddy currently has bigger fish to fry, so I can’t proceed with the mix yet.

So with some dead time on my hands, I got inspired last week and wrote yet another original titled “Keyboard Ninja.”

It’s about online trolls and what might be going through their heads. My intent was to turn an annoyance into a creative endeavor, and it turned out to be quite cathartic! Thanks to the song, I now see the humanity in online trolls. But not enough to let them on my feed!

Apologies for the vocals, not optimized, a little shrill here and there. Also gotta practice hitting that one high note!

I will eventually record it with harmonies. For now…

Breaking News: Unprovoked Cup Noodle Attack on a Japanese Bullet Train

This is your humble news correspondent out in the field reporting on a troubling new development. The Intercultural Twilight Zone has confirmed through multiple sources that an attack was perpetrated on a Japanese bullet train using an off-the-shelf package of Instant Cup Noodles. No injuries were reported at the time of publication, although scores of passengers are reported to have been traumatized by the event.

Contrary to rumors circulating online, this is not an April Fool’s joke, I repeat, this is not an April Fool’s joke! (Published on April 3rd.)

A Japanese SWAT team was called in and found an empty noodle cup on top of the train, confirming initial eyewitness reports. Forensics is now checking for fingerprints and DNA. Experts are baffled but thankful that the noodle cup didn’t blow off the train’s roof.

The conspiracy runs deep. Authorities are now considering banning or placing restrictions on the sale of cup noodles. For some unexplained reason, people have started hoarding toilet paper.

The train conductor was interviewed at the scene of the crime and assured the public that “We shall rebuild!”

The investigation is ongoing.

© Tim Sullivan 2024

The Day That Dumb Luck Saved My Dumb Little Ass

A weird and random memory popped into my head this morning, one that I’ve apparently been suppressing since childhood.

It happened in a fleeting moment that my friend and I experienced over five decades ago on the North Side of Chicago, one that could have sent our young lives spiraling to a dark place. The margin of errorーthe distance between darkness and lightーwas mere inches.

Dumb luck was with us that day, when two young dummies tempted fate and got away with it. Happily, no humans were harmed by our stupidity, but in retrospect, it surely has come with a smidgen of suppressed, lingering trauma.

For some background, like many young boys back then, I had a paper route. On this fateful day, a friend and I decided to do our paper routes together, probably to stave off the boredom of doing it alone. My friend’s route covered some buildings called Winthrop Towers. (Back then it was a dump, but today it seems to be upscale.)

So after we finished all the deliveries in the building, my buddy coaxed me up to the roof, and I gladly complied.

Bad move, of course, but that’s what dumb adolescent boys do, right?

As fate would have it, my friend had a pocket knife that he’d been playing with the whole timeーeven as we approached the edge of the roof to get a glimpse of the street below.

Yes, you guessed it, my friend suddenly lost control of his knife with the blade out, at which time that knife made a rapid descent toward the sidewalk below.

We watched in horror as a pedestrian started walking directly under the trajectory of the falling knife. Time stood still and our eyes were glued to that pedestrian. We both felt completely helpless in the moment and were filled with dread.

That’s when dumb luck stepped in to save the day. I’ll be damned if that knife didn’t land within a foot of that innocent soul.

We turned and made a beeline for the staircase, scurried down the steps, and actually jumped out the first floor window near the bottom of the stairwell to avoid going through the front door and getting caught.

How lucky and stupid we were.

But today I thank my lucky stars that no one was hurt and that my life turned out the way it did.

Turns out that, just like football, life can be “a game of inches.”

A shout out to my dear old friend Dumb Luck for sticking with me all these years.

© Tim Sullivan 2024

When Your Daily Routine Get Derailed, Tell Your Inner Critic to F*ck Off

As a retired old dinosaur, routines and discipline are important to me. Most important is to keep my mind and all my moving parts MOVING.

Specifically, my daily routine involves exercise, guitar practice, and my ongoing (forever and ever) Japanese studies.

My other weekly routine is the Wednesday morning podcast with Maya Matsuoka of Japan Expert Insights, and I am thankful she is a disciplined taskmaster that keeps me honest and on track. Hanging out with Maya and being part of the podcast is how I keep my head in the intercultural space; it fills the void of not having to do it for money anymore, a precious part of my routine.

Indeed, healthy, positive daily routines are my secret sauce for productivity, happiness, and maintaining my internal peace of mind.

But alas, life happens. You go on vacation, you get sick, or gasp – you let your lazy bone get the better of you. In the process, you self-sabotage your own routine and with it, your peace of mind.

When this happens, my happiness quotient plummets. The internal guilt, shame – call it what you want – eats me up inside.

At some point I get so damn disgusted with myself that my only path to redemption (at least in my mind) is to suck it up and get back to work. Much like a locomotive, I start slow and gradually gather momentum. But once I get going, it never fails to lift my spirits, and it motivates me to keep going.

In today’s episode, Maya and I spoke with two special people who we are very fond of: Hana Urushizawa Howell, RTC and James Howell.

In this brief episode we discuss the challenges of recovering after the holidays and getting back into our daily routines – and those damn internal voices we have to battle to do so.

How do you get back on track after you’ve been derailed?

Panties in a Twist Over Taylor Swift

I used to be a rabid NFL fan. Every Sunday I’d religiously watch two, sometimes even three games.

But as I moved around the world my beloved Bears continued to stink up the NFL, so it was easy to lose interest. Last live game I watched was…last year’s Super Bowl!

Personally, I find all the manufactured hype around the Super Bowl annoying. Still, it’s a great excuse for friends to gather and socialize, so I’m all for it.

Now let’s talk about the elephant in all our feeds…the scandalous Taylor Swift!

And this is where I make shocking confession: I’ve never paid much attention to her. Not anti-Taylor, just don’t listen to her music so I never think about her.

That is…until people started losing their minds over her involvement with KC Chief’s star tight end Travis Kelsey.

Of course, I knew who Taylor Swift was, but her music is not my thing, so she was – save for the occasional headline that scrolls across my feed – off my radar. That said, I’ve heard from many people who saw her live that she’s a great performer, so props to her!

Interestingly, the drama has had the “Streisand effect” on me, meaning that I’d have never have paid any attention to Ms. Swift without all the backlash and drama.

And can you believe that some “prominent” voices online are complaining that “the images of her during the games are getting old”?

Okay, I get it, you don’t like the Chiefs. Neither do I! (But I still think they’re gonna win.)

Or…could it be that you don’t like Swift’s politics?

Well, to counter her presence, how about you recruit your guy Ted Nugent to serenade us with Cat Scratch Fever. Good luck with that!

Of ALL the things that annoy me about the Super Bowl, an occasional shot of Taylor Swift cheering from her luxury suite is low on my list.

You know what I’d much rather not see? Bert Kreischer, that’s who. And if he takes off his shirt I will be compelled to look away!

So many real problems to solve in the world and yet we fight amongst ourselves over this nonsense.

Enjoy the Super Bowl everyone. And try not to get your panties in a twist, okay?

© Tim Sullivan 2024

The Art of Not Being Careful What You Wish for…

The recent snow in Tokyo got me thinking…

I have been known to tell people, “Be careful what you wish for!”

Upon reflection, this is about the most hypocritical thing that could possibly come out my mouth. Truth is that my entire adult life has been about not being careful what I wished for. Some might even call me a “reckless wisher,” and they would be correct.

My reckless wishing started when I joined the Navy at the tender age of 17, a decision made with absolutely no forethought. My motivation at the time was to simply break free from my dad’s control, that’s it.

Well I showed him!

Out of the proverbial frying pan into a raging fire.

That’s when shit got real, and off to Japan they sent me, against my will I might add.

When my enlistment was up, it was time for my next reckless move: I finagled a discharge in Japan so I could attend university.

More learning and adapting ensued.

In my third year of college, I made my next reckless move, but only reckless in its timing; I proposed to my wife. Lucky for me, she was just reckless enough to say yes. And though it was a poorly thought-out decision at the time, dumb luck smiled upon me, and it turned out to be the best decision I ever made. Because we both learned and adapted.

My next reckless wish came two years after I graduated from university, when a Japanese client invited me to join their start-up team to launch a factory in the Deep South.

My wife was up for the adventure, so we moved from Yamato Japan to Podunk Tennessee. I’d never lived in the Deep South so culture shock hit me as hard as it did my wife. It didn’t help that I was laughably unprepared for the challenges in front of me. But total immersion and long hours forced me to learn and adapt.

After five years in Tennessee, I was thoroughly sick of country music and I yearned to return to my beloved hometown Chicago. Once again, my wife supported the move and in 1991 we were living the good life in the northwest suburbs of Chicago.

And it was all rainbows, unicorns, and manicured lawns until February first, 2001 when a ferocious winter storm dropped 21 inches (53 cm) of snow on us. The morning after, on my birthday mind you, I woke up, didn’t see my shadow, really wanted to go back to bed, but my driveway wasn’t going to shovel itself. So up I woke and up I bundled.

We had a big driveway plus a long public sidewalk stretch that was our responsibility to shovel. (Just try to image how my two young teenage sons felt about being ripped from their warm beds and forced into immediate shoveling action. And yes, badass Japanese wife pitched in too.)

I remember the exact moment when something snapped in my head, and I thought, “Dude, you’re too old to be doing this shit.”

Next thought was, How can I avoid shoveling snow for the rest of my life?

That’s when we hatched a five-year plan to flee Chicago’s brutal winters for the subtropics.

And right on schedule, five years later, I was battling the jungle in rural Hawaii, picking up coconuts and 40-pound fronds year round. But at least it was warm!

We’ve come full circle now, back to Japan. Haven’t completely escaped the snow but no shoveling required. So far. And no coconuts and fronds anywhere in sight! Yes, I do have to walk up this damn mountain every day, but it builds character and keeps me sprightly!

So no, DON’T be careful what you wish for. Just figure out how to learn and adapt and you’ll be fine.

© Tim Sullivan 2024

My Journey with Three Little Fishies

If you have small children, grandchildren, or other adorable little ones in your life, then you might enjoy this clip.

It’s no mystery to anyone who knows me that I’ve been “retired” for a few years.

But two weeks ago I decided to rebrand myself as a “professional grandpa”!

And as a professional grandpa, I naturally need a job description. As I see it, my job is to entertain and spoil my granddaughter – and great nephew too!

My repertoire of entertainment techniques is currently limited to making funny faces and really bad dancing.

So before the little ones in my life grow weary of my funny faces and awkward dancing, thought I’d take initiative and expand my repertoire. To achieve this end, I learned to sing and play a kids’ tune, and I just finished recording it today!

The idea of learning a kids’ tune isn’t new for me, as I’ve been mulling it over for awhile. But not being a kids-song kind of guy, I racked my brain to think of a tune that resonated – but to no avail.

That is, until two weeks ago during my daily walk around town with my wife.

While strolling along the harbor front, out of the blue – Eureka!

Suddenly I remembered a classic kids’ tune that my mother and auntie used to sing to me when I was a little tyke.

I thought the song was cool then, and I *still* think it’s cool!

Written by Josephine Carringer and Bernice Idins, the song became a number-one hit in 1939, when my mother was about ten years old.

Such fond memories of my mom and auntie singing it to me, and I still grin every time I hear it.

Happy to report that my sweet granddaughter gave it the thumbs up, and I hope you’ll like it as well.

Does anyone else remember this song?

Guitar, vocals, and video ~ me

Bass, harmonies and mix-down ~ Dwight Waldron

Enjoy!

Zen Koan Finally Solved! (The Sound of One Hand Clapping)

Enlightenment Haiku

Sunday morning muse
A sudden epiphany
One hand clapping, doh!

Image: Bing’s Image Creator
Silly Haiku: Yours Truly

© Tim Sullivan 2024