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The frogs, the birds and the fox. 2/13/2007

I have been, over the past 3 days, wanting to post something up. I tried, in between bouts of sporadic work on a proposal that started out wanting to be 18 pages long, then 29, suddenly 35 (this morning), and now, after 2 meetings and a long discussion in the stairwell, well over 426 pages, not including attachments, appendices, and references. This is insane. If I was author, I think I’d have about 1826 books published by now, from a rough estimate of the number of documents in my various work folders, and their size. I know there are some who don’t believe this, but trust me, it’s true, in spite of the inordinate amount of time I spend online in various forums, bike related and not, and on 2 seperate chat programs.

I would have never thought myself capable of this literary diarrhea. And it doesn’t seem to translate itself into posts on this site. I actually have trouble stringing 2 coherent sentences together when it comes to writing a post for Hunting the Snark. I can’t figure it out. Give me a technical subject related to my work, and I can bend your ear for hours debating the differences between various types of treatment procedures, or give you an impromptu lecture on the safe operation of a gas system, or, in my particular situation now, a 400 plus page proposal on the systematic operation and management of a entire country’s healthcare maintenance system. Yes, you read that right. The A to Z of running a complete system, for a whole country.

There is way too much shit in my head.

So why is it I can’t seem to put up a post? Easy enough to do, I have a wealth of experience to draw on. Funny, sad, tragic, comic. I sometimes feel like I seen everything and done everything. Twice. Oh, and don’t bother about the t-shirt. They gave me a little globe with snow in it, and my name engraved.

Writer’s block. The hazard of every writer since the first hieroglyphs were put on papyrus. The guys who chipped cuneiform on stone tablets must have had it worse I guess. Misspellings and second thoughts would have been costly. So I now sit down at my laptop, in the quiet of my abode. Trying to create something out of the murk of my mind. Someone said, in answer to my question about what do I post today, to post nothing. I could do that, giving you a situation like the previous week, where there were back to back Girl Fridays. Nothing wrong in that. It’s happened before. But I do know that there are a few of you out there who seem to enjoy reading the shit the comes off the end of my finger tips.

So, in the absence of a post that you might enjoy reading, I leave you with a little story that was told to me today by a colleague visiting from the home office.

In a faraway place, there was a pond, and in this pond lived a community of frogs. It was a happy life for the frogs, except for the fact that every evening, a flock of birds came to the pond, and preyed on the frogs. The frogs were naturally upset at this, and decided to get some professional help. They decided to employ a fox as a consultant, since foxes were reputed to be wise.

The fox came to the pond, and performed an assessment. He took measurements of how many frogs were being eaten in a given day, and whether the sky was blue or not on that particular day. He then called the frogs together after 3 months, and said he would present his findings, and a proposal.

The frogs assembled, and waited for the fox’s proposal. The fox said, the solution is this, “what you have to do, is to put 2 frogs on the 2 highest rocks in your pond. When the 2 frogs see the birds arrive, they must croak as loudly as they can, and the rest of the frogs must fly away.” The frogs nodded at this, and decided to implement the fox’s solution. They paid the fox his consulting fee, which was very expensive, and also paid his expenses, and gave him a fancy farewell lunch, with much champagne.

That evening, the 2 frogs waited at the 2 highest rocks in the pond. When they saw the birds flying in, they croaked as loudly as they could, the frogs in the pond tried the best they could to fly away. Since, quite naturally, amphibians hadn’t evolved to fly, the birds flew in and made dinner of those frogs who couldn’t hide in time.

The next day, the surviving frogs went looking for the fox. “Your solution didn’t work,” they said. “The birds came and attacked us. Don’t you know that frogs can’t fly?”

The fox looked at the frogs, and told them, “Look, you employed me as a consultant. I proposed a solution. The implementation of the solution is your problem, not mine.”