Fishin' and Runnin' a Business Are the Same Thing

I have learned in the past three weeks, much to Entrepreneur Chick's surprise, that I love to fish!

"Lookie Joe, I gotta tackle box", I proudly announced and held up my prize.

"Huh. Bet ya don't got anything in it," Joe retorted as he pulled, without asking, my little brown plastic box towards him on the counter.

"Hmm. Lemme see..." Joe pokes around- "Worms. Hooks. Weights. Needle nosed pliers. Fishin' glasses. What's this?"

"Well, it's my nail file. What if I break a nail?" Joe rolls his eyes but he's proud of me, I can tell.

Joe runs the place. He's a little bit fishing pro, and a little bit magic. I actually saw him, just yesterday, pull out a huge bass, pregnant at that, using a hook no bigger than any ordinary green pea! Also, when I broke my line and had to reset it, and didn't know what I was doing for sure, Joe mysteriously appeared out of no where and questioned, "Jus whattaya think yer' doin'?" And he graciously helped me because I was screwing it up, biggern' Dallas.

If you closely inspect the brown, faded, dingy pictures on the wall, you'll see many of Joe, looking eerily the same as he did in 1972, his ever present cigarette dangling delicately out one side of his mouth or glued to his hand like one of his organic digits and matter-of-factly holding up a catfish as big as a fourth grade child.

Joe is a discovery in himself, as business is a discovery in itself.

It might look like you're doing nothing. But the whole time you are sitting there thinking, and thinking and rethinking about nothing but fishing. When you have a businesses, it's as if you're in love. You think about that (person) and you think about that business all the time!

Hmmm. Nothing's happening. Is my minnow dead? {{Staff not performing?}}

Wait! I got a bite! I got a BIG BITE! {{That large customer you've been trying to land.}}

I proudly caught thirteen fish yesterday but only two of them were "keepers."

When you pull out a "keeper" everyone has their say. "Yep. That's a keeper."
"Uh huh- that's a keeper." "Looks like a keeper. Better have Joe measure it fer certain."

Now, the funny thing about a "keeper" is- you can't throw them back in the lake. You have to actually DO something with "the keeper".

What do I do?! {{{Business grows and expands and is becoming profitable.}}}

For starters, I ran over to Joe with my "keeper" and sorrowfully said, "Joe, I know you're busy with customers, but I got a keeper."

Joe, unruffled not in the least, merely continued to puff coolly, on one side of his face, his Marbarrlo, and, as other patrons were volunteering- "I'll take it off of the hook for her!" "Aww, s'okay- I'll take it off for her." Joe gave his unalterable pronouncement: The heavens parted and thus sayeth Joe:

"Naw. She's got it."

An entrepreneur will finally "get it" and when it's "a keeper", an entrepreneur will, in fact, figure out what to do.

How Aptitudes Repressed or Expressed, Can Shape Our Lives

Everyone has aptitudes. Aptitudes can be defined as those talents and skills that are innate in one's nature and that change very little, if at all, over time.

Aptitudes differ from "interests". This week, I became interested in fishing, but discovered I have little natural aptitude for it. To begin with, I honestly wanted a Dora the Explorer fishing set because, not only was it just cute as a button, if I inadvertently dropped it in the lake, it floated! But Tony told me that, uh... no, you are not going to embarrass both yourself and me in that fashion and flatly said I could not have it. I chose a "Ladies fishing set" instead, which was only one notch down in cuteness relative Dora- so I just tied an ugly white string to my pole- in case of a dropping mishap.

And those little minnows- gosh I felt so bad to stick... right. Back to business.

A.I.M.S. is a service I employed a few years back to help me figure out the proper and best direction that I could take with my talents, whatever they were, because back then, I wasn't sure what I was good at doing. I knew what I couldn't do, however. I can not cook my way out of a paper bag. I even flunked home economics and got kicked off the cheer leading squad. Yeah, I'm still bitter about that. Scratch "culinary arts".

"A.I.M.S." stands for "Aptitude Measurement Service". The idea is, you go in their brightly lit and mostly austere office, and pay a rather large amount of money, and they test you rigorously over the course of three full days.

This test is not a little multiple choice affair or fill in the blanks.

Here was what Entrepreneur Chick walked away with- both good and bad.

Unfortunately, the results of the test, in my opinion, is only geared to those entering the "job market". I am an entrepreneur. I am the job creator. I am not the job seeker. It took me several years to figure out why none of their expert recommendations- "private detective", "advertising", "marketing", "public office", "teaching"- appealed to me! That was the bad.

Here is the good. I am a "specialist extrovert", which only a small percentage of people are. Mostly, people are a "generalist introvert", meaning you know a little bit about everything and could be characterized as shy and withdrawn, or a "generalist extrovert," or a "specialist introvert"- meaning you hone in on one area of specialty, say you are a cardiologist, but you tend to keep to yourself more than you tend to be outgoing. I believe, only about 3 to 5 percent of everyone tested fails into my category.

I, they determined, function best by having "direct contact with many people" and that "routine tasks and activities are to be avoided" and that I score extremely high on the "idea-phoric" scale- denoting that I can "easily generate ideas quickly to solve problems." That's an entrepreneur. That's who I am.

When I learned to express who I am and not fit into something that's not a match for me at all, is when I began to flourish like two guppies in a big pond! I mean, I took off! It was so EASY.

In closing- if one does not understand where their aptitudes lie, and those aptitudes remain unexpressed, this can be a foundational cause for depression and deep dissatisfaction with life overall. As you see "who you are", is not in continuity, with "what you do". "What you do", is not "who you are". See the dichotomy? You see the inherent damage? It's like huge cow on the train track, just standing there. Someone's going to get hurt. There's surely going to be a derailment.

I would encourage everyone to go out of their way to deeply seek to understand who they are uniquely, as pre-determined by a natural set of aptitudes, and then build your life around what those are- going along with your intrinsic inner "current" rather than fighting a strong and perpetual under tow that will only ultimately drag you down deeper and deeper and deeper, into a person you were never meant to be.

(I dedicate this post today to a same-soul Sistah, Ms. Avery.)

What Are You Going To Do Today For Fun?

No really. This is just as important as any business plan and exit strategy you might conjure up. Fun opens up so many things. For starters, your mind. Less stress. Higher quality of life. Balance. Ideas emerge. Happy memories are formed. Life is sweeter. Purer.

I was dramatically reminded of this this past Friday. It might not sound like much, but it was the most wonderful day and afternoon. Here's what we did:

First, we went to the other side of what's known around my area as "the metroplex" and we spoke to a very large account. The meeting went phenomenally well and we closed several thousand dollars worth of business.

Next, we drove down to another town south of that town, and picked up some more money from another client who is so excited to do business with us- Leslie said: "I've heard about you guys and everyone just raves about you and that you do such a tremendous job!" (Staff training has paid off in spades, I can tell you.)

But here's what was so sweet. We went to an old mall that we used to go to before we moved where we live now. It was just SO much fun.

We have this silly little tradition. They have this over sized gumball machine there- it's over 8 feet tall. Here's how you play.

State your color. Red? Green? Yellow? Blue? White? Pink?

Put in your quarter and get your ball.

Next player: State your color: Red? Green? Yellow? Blue? White? Pink?

Put in your quarter and get your ball.

If you guess the correct color, let's say player one says that "pink" will come out and they get pink. They can either chose to keep their pink ball or exchange it for a better gum ball that player # two has, should player #two be incorrect.

After all that, then, at the very end of the guessing game- you tap your gumballs together THREE TIMES- then, and only then, may you chew your gum.

We've played the gumball game for years now.

After that, we looked at all the Fall and Halloween decorations, which is a blast. Nothing floats our boat more like holidays and new decorations.

But before all this fun and frivolity, we went to eat at one of our "regular" hot spots from four years ago- as we have not been there in four years. I was SO bad. I had fish, tarter sauce, green jello salad, fried potatoes, broccoli salad AND pumpkin pie. I never, EVER eat like that. That was enough food to last me two days. Not one meal.

The next day, we hung out in our pajamas. The next day, we had a picnic- but couldn't stay long because some of you know I'm scared of bugs. In August, in Texas, and particularly after a big rain, which we had, these big, honking, fat-ass (can bugs have fat asses?) green affairs come out and fly around everywhere just wrecking any picnic I could possibly have. I know it's an irrational fear. I realize that. These bugs don't bite. I guess it's just the Ewwww-U-R-SO-GROSS factor.

So after that, we made our way on over to the lake, and lo and behold, what do you think? A fishing barge! Do you know what a fishing barge is? Neither did I. It's so cool!

It has been on the lake since 1957. I was not even around at all in 1957. Nonetheless, it's this huge, floating, offshore structure, where, for just a few dollars, you can fish. But here's the deal. You will certainly catch fish! BIG FISH.

Joe, who's been there ever since he was just in his 20's, told us all about it and showed us around.

"Look here. Here's where you can catch Bass, Croppy, Cats, and Blue Gills. You just drop yer line in here. Lemme show you. Lookie here. If yer ever out in da wild and ya don't have no worms and no bait, here's what ya do. You just take ya a hook like dis one here, and ya drop in in like dis- awww, lookie here. Here's my bait now!" And with that, out Joe pulls a little croppy that he then escorts, flopping and flipping and squirming- proudly and magically; goes over to the other fishing hole carved out of the barge, and drops it gently in, in effort to land an even bigger fish!

I watched, completely mesmerized.

Joe, realizing that I'm not just some "Entrepreneur Chick", and truly interested and enthralled, then pulled out the big guns. Well, the big underwater camera anyway.

"Lookie here. Huh? I'm a gonna drop this down in der water and you can see those big babies I've been talkin' to ya about. Know what I did with dis camera? Why, I saw you and yer husband git outta da car and come walkin' in here. Yeah. I see everybody. Got to. Sometimes I git some peoples in here that get to fightin' and carryin' on... I can deal wit 'em. Been here a long time. Work the ten ta two shift. No one wants dat shift but me. I can deal wit 'em. I got da Dallas Cowboys comin' in here doe- De Marcus Ware, Eric Williams- da cheerleaders even."

Splash! The camera floats deep down into the murky green water. Stirred unwilling out of the darkness with a blank stare, are Joe's "babies"he's been truly talking about. Sure enough.

"Well, I'm concerned." I assert. "If you have all these fish, you must have moccasins too. You got moccasin's too?"

"Sure, I got moccasins. Lookie right yer. See doze two black dots on my thumb? Dat's a moccasin."

"What happened?!"

"Ize jus feedin' da fish and reached my hand down in da bait bucket, he's sittin' in da bait bucket- go swirling ma hand in der and damn, bit me just like dat! I jus shoot 'em though. Anyone comes in here ain't supposed to, I shoot 'em."

That goes for people or water moccasins.

Joe was not kidding.

As we were leaving, one of those tricky moccasins must have thought that maybe today was the day he'd get by Joe.

Joe pulled out, as matter- of -factly as you or I would pull out a business card- a big, brown, menacing shot gun and took direct aim.

Okay- I'm going to go over and stand on top of this red chair from 1961, hold onto the pole to steady myself from falling into Joe's "babies", and hope like hell he's a good shot.

"Whattcha doin' up there fer? I got 'em."

Man, whatta fun day!