Not so long ago, I attended the decommissioning of the aircraft carrier I was stationed on in the US Navy, the Big John, USS John F. Kennedy CV-67. The keel was laid the same month I was born, and when I saw it decommissioned, it was like watching a funeral for a skyscraper. What was once alive with five thousand plus sailors and officers was suddenly lifeless and quiet, and then everyone walked away in silence.

Recently on a trip to Orlando, Florida, I realized that the mall I’d stopped in, Fashion Square, felt familiar. I didn’t recognize it, but I felt it; I’d been there, and I’d been there a lot. I went to boot camp in Orlando, and the mall was just west of the base. A few years back I saw the base was closed down, but wondered what it looked like now.

Like my old ship, it was gone.

Well, almost gone. Blue Jacket Park now stands where our parade grounds and “grinder” used to be (I promise it didn’t look any where near as nice as it does now). A small memorial with a plaque marks the spot to suggest that, for thirty years, it was a training facility for new sailors. But could all of it really have been completely removed and an entire suburb put in its place?

Trying as hard as I could to line up where the old streets were and where the new streets ran, I manage to find my way to the eastern most part near the lake, and there was something of the old base still. There used to be a McDonald’s right next door to the A-school barracks, a six-story, two-towered building of light yellow bricks distinct for only having tiny square windows in the top of the walls. The towers are still there for now, dingy and broken down with neglect, but everything else is long gone. A sign says they won’t be there for much longer.

There are little shops tucked in among upscale housing that I can only imagine what they cost. Fifty-five acres of land, the plaque had said. The only other bases I’d ever been to was Norfolk, Philadelphia, Jacksonville, and the San Diego training center. Three of those five are now gone, and Jacksonville is eagerly awaiting a new carrier from Norfolk. Was it really so long ago?

You know, I’ve both been managed and in management, and no matter which end of the production pipe I’m in, I can’t keep my mouth shut when I see an obvious breakdown in communication followed by that frustrated look of “But no one’s listening!” While I don’t have an MBA or anything, I have taken classes, attended training, and done the jobs. Is it possible I could have a unique perspective on all of this, or is it really smarter, more profitable, and in keeping with a positive atmosphere to keep silent when bouncing off of brick walls?

One more thing: I’m an extroverted pessimist, a very rare personality type, a drive to act when confronted with imminent failure. I see the worst, size it up, and begin making corrections accordingly. If a table wobbles, I find a cheap way to hide the shim for the short leg to restore balance. When I execute a solution, you rarely know a crisis was ever averted.

Sadly, over-thinking executives seem to be trained to fear words that oppose “optimism” because nothing good comes from “seeing the glass half empty.” Sorry, I don’t buy that; if you go through life with the actual belief that nothing is wrong until a crisis occurs, you’re going to be blindsided every time. Looking for the potential for crisis is an opportunity for correction while the writing is on the wall, a chance to refill before the glass runs dry.

Or maybe I’m full of it and clueless. Meh, I’ll write it up anyway.

To be continued…

It happens maybe twice a year at most, and I usually burn through it in half the time most others take. But I can always feel it coming on: slight throb when I turn my head too quick, I actually turn the fan off at work, and I feel tired but not sleepy. If I can power through the next day and a half of work, I can burn it out this weekend and save my vacation days (crap… decided to take one anyway. No sense in giving it to everyone else, although I have no idea who gave it to me).

I’ve learned that if I sit very, very still, it’s not so bad.

Time for some soups and 7-Up Sprite. You know, I can’t drink Sprite any other time, so if I think I’m sick and it tastes good to me, I’m sick.

Good thing it’s THIS weekend, too, ’cause I have plans for the next. I also start getting some trippy dreams absolutely free of charge.

Ever notice that, each time you move, as you unpack boxes and things, you never quite put them in the same place. Did the new space inspire you to place things differently, or was it just a random accident that you opened a particular box before another one and the contents went where something else used to be?

As I’ve started reshaping ThinkingSkull.com, I’ve also had to create work arounds for the things I wanted to include, even if I couldn’t show them the exact way I wanted. Taking the opportunity to redesign something almost from scratch has also forced me to think differently about both implementation and execution…

Uh oh. Now I’m wondering if anyone reading this thinks I’ve gone completely off the reservation. And lookie! My picture comes with the comments now!