Leaning Toward Wisdom

3 am whispered. A lamp in the corner normally illuminates a daylight LED bulb. But that's only in the daytime. During the quietness of the night, the daylight bulb gives way to a red bulb. Like a photographer's darkroom. Except I'm developing ideas, not film.

Headphones are on. My Apple iTunes library is launched. I scroll through "Recently Added." Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers "Angel Dream" was released just days ago. I miss Tom. And the Heartbreakers. The ringtone on my phone is "You Wreck Me," proving my fondness for Tom's music. Hours are spent in the darkness of night with headphones on, listening to music.

Track 3 of "Angel Dreams" fires up, Change The Locks.



I can relate to this song. More now than ever.

I changed the lock on my front door

So you can’t see me anymore

And you can’t come inside my house

And you can’t lie down on my couch

I changed the lock on my front door

And I changed the number on my phone

So you can’t call me up at home

And you can’t say those things to me

That make me fall down on my knees

I changed the number on my phone

’Cause I changed the kind of car I drive

So you can’t see me when I go by

And you can’t chase me up the street

And you can’t knock me off of my feet

I changed the kind of car I drive

I changed the kind of clothes I wear

So you can’t find me anywhere

You can’t spot me in a crowd

And you can’t call my name out loud

I changed the kind of clothes I wear

It's 3:22 am when I begin to wonder - for the umpteenth time - whether or not my caffeinated drink mixes are contributing to my insomnia. I've been down this rabbit hole before. Many times. I consume about 120 milligrams daily. According to the FDA website that's not excessive.

For healthy adults, the FDA has cited 400 milligrams a day—that's about four or five cups of coffee—as an amount not generally associated with dangerous, negative effects. However, there is wide variation in both how sensitive people are to the effects of caffeine and how fast they metabolize it (break it down).

Doing some basic math with the help of a calculator that sits right by my mouse, I figure it's been many years since I consumed 400 milligrams or more. Dr. Pepper was once my drug of choice. Then Diet Dr. Pepper. Then Dr. Pepper Zero. I've got a handful of liter bottles in the pantry right now that have been there for months. Rarely do I venture away from a 38-ounce bottle of water with a single Crystal Light Strawberry drink mix inserted. I’m not sure caffeine is much of a player anymore, but here I am wide awake at 3:40 am wondering about it.

Should I give it up completely? I wonder. But of all the things that might be keeping me up, I rather doubt caffeine is much of a contributor. It's more substantial than that I figure.

As the clock approaches 4 am I'm on track 10 listening to Tom sing, "Climb That Hill."



You got to get up and climb that hill

Get up and climb that hill

You got to get up and climb that hill again

Cares. It's an interesting term for life's problems. Cares.

We ascribe caring to things positive.

“People don't care how much you know until they know how much you care”  ― Theodore Roosevelt

"He's a loser. He just doesn't care."

"He could not care less."

So the anti-sentiment is careless. Care. Less. We sure don't want to be that.

Then modern culture admonishes us to stop caring what others think. Selfishness and self-centeredness are considered acts of courage. Disregard the voices in your life who attempt to help you. Don't listen to anybody other than yourself. Sure, you can do that,

If things stay as they are, you’ll stay as you are. It's just how life and entropy work.

I'm sitting across from a new client. Ninety-nine percent of the time within 15 minutes I'm hearing a person's life story. A gift I have, among very, very few. And one I'm thankful for - the ability to connect quickly with "most" people and gain their trust. It's not magic. It's because I'm genuinely interested. And I care. The single group of people who are an exception are arrogant, "I'm-the-smartest-person-in-this-room" types. I do not connect with them. And don't want to. But I've never had such a person as a coaching client in the dozen or more years I've been doing this work. So there's that!

This person isn't arrogant. Just reserved. Better said, guarded. Extremely guarded. I respect it.

Until the 3rd session when I ask about how life is going and I'm told for the third time, "Fine." That's it. One word. "Fine." No details are ever offered. Nothing. Probing has proven unsuccessful. I feel like a CIA interrogator trying to extract information from a professionally trained enemy spy. Okay, I actually feel like a very poor-performing CIA interrogator because I'm getting nothing.

In the middle of the 3rd session, I finally ask, "Okay, how is it REALLY going?"

"Fine."

I never said I had a perfect record. ;)

Self-deception has been a lifelong curiosity for me. I'd love to tell you that I have it all figured out, but I don't. It's like one of those magical worms that you cut in half and it grows a new head forming two worms. Sometimes the more we focus on killing self-deception the more self-deception we're prone to have. Somebody with a bigger brain than mine is going to have help us with this. I've read plenty, but so far I've concluded that one of the best defenses of self-deception is having trusted advisors willing to challenge us. Easier said than done...finding such people.

Trusted advisors willing and able to help us avoid self-delusion aren't easily captured. They are out there, but very difficult to spot. It's much easier to find people who don't fit the bill because they're in the majority. That's not a harsh judgment, it's just the truth. People are busy. They have their own problems. They also have their own inner circle of people they're already serving. Most lack the bandwidth to add you to the mix so I don't blame people for being unavailable.

Others just aren't fit for the task. For anybody. This is a rather large chunk of the population I suspect. Kind of like the people who live their entire life without telling anybody, "I love you." We may not understand such people - I struggle to understand how that can be problematic for people, but I know it truly is. Others don't find any way to ever say, "I'm sorry." Such folks aren't likely going to be great trusted advisors unless it pertains to some area in which they're experts. For example, I people who have terrific financial expertise, but lack empathy or the ability to really connect at a personal level (have you seen the movie, The Accountant? ;) ). They'd be great at telling you what to do with your money, but they'd likely be awful at sharing why you want to do something with your money.

Maybe it'll help you if I share my lifelong journey with my own trusted advisors. I understand that my context is uniquely my own. But I hope you'll be able to apply it to your own situation.

Like most kids, my folks were my very first trusted advisors. And my maternal grandmother. Three people. That was it. A really tight circle. I'm talking as a little kid through elementary school.

I always had friends, but as a little kid - even in elementary school - I didn't rely on friends as trusted advisors about anything outside of school or playing together. Things like assignments,

That's what is currently written across the top of the whiteboard in my office, The Yellow Studio. In parenthesis, I wrote: (Don't Be Afraid Of Scaling). A friend uttered that challenge to me months ago. The context? Professional pursuits. Namely, trying to figure out how to effectively serve more clients. Shortly after that, I spent some quiet time as I am wont to do. Pondering time.

Don't fret if you have no interest in hearing about professional or work pursuits. The lessons here transcend that. I think we'll be able to make a solid application to just about any endeavor. In fact, I'll be sharing my own insights in a variety of personal and professional pursuits. Because they universally share that whole "make the biggest difference" idea. I mean, who wants to pursue something that makes a minuscule difference? ;)

The Biggest Difference?

First things first, we have to define the biggest difference. It's ridiculously individual.

You've heard me talk about "the ideal outcome." In fact, I own that domain because it has become such a staple in my coaching practice. Few things are more powerful than each of us coming to terms with - and seeing clearly - our ideal outcome. While others may try to persuade us that the journey is the thing, I'm always challenging clients to gain a clear focus on what they most would like to achieve - "the ideal outcome."

Here's the thing about the biggest difference or the ideal outcome - they're subject to change. In fact, they should change when we're armed with new insights, information, and experiences. Things change! We change! So should our ideal outcome.

About a month or so ago I released a podcast episode at my work podcast, GrowGreat.com. It was a podcast born from these ideas. It was my first mention of all this stuff that currently is being figured out. I titled it, Traction & Momentum: Pursuing The Things That Work After Killing The Things That Don’t.

Prior to recording that show I had a few conversations with people about "irons in the fire." We all have irons in the fire, a metaphor for pursuing a variety of things that we hope will succeed. Some of us have lots of irons in the fire, and we keep putting more irons in the fire. Others of us are more selective and careful about the irons we're willing to place into the flame. Me? I ebb and flow. Sometimes I'm selective. Sometimes I'm more willing to say, "Yes."

Experience has taught me that what we say "NO" to can be as important, or more important, than what we say "YES" to. In the past decade, I've been more of a say YES guy.

On my whiteboard below the stuff you see in that picture above, I drew some flames to represent the fire. Then I drew a number of lines to represent the various pursuits that are irons in the fire. I drew everything I do. Professional. Personal. All the activities I engage in daily or weekly. Then I drew two cross-diagonal lines through the "irons" I wanted to kill. I'm still working on it, but right now there are 7 irons in the fire. I have the kill lines across 2 of them. I have a question mark on 1 of the others. That leaves 4 irons I currently think I'd like to keep in the fire. I'm not sure this is how it'll end up because I'm still figuring it out.

The point is, not every iron in our fire is going to get hot enough to be productive. Some will. Some won't. There are two challenges: a) figuring out which irons you care most about and b) figuring out which irons have the greatest opportunity to get hot (gain traction and momentum). Neither of those is necessarily easy.

Think of a time when you felt stretched thin. Maybe it's now. Maybe it once was. Maybe it feels like it's always been that way.

Try writing down - on paper or a whiteboard - the activities. Get them all down. In full disclosure,

I was in the fourth grade when I first developed a passion for piney woods. I was a pre-schooler when the woods first called out though. So by the time 4th grade arrived I'd spent half my life fascinated by and in love with --- trees. Woods.

Woods.

A forest is woods, but not all woods are forests. I think woods are thought of as smaller than forests. Small groups of trees, but how small is small? It depends. On how big you are. When you're a little kid one undeveloped lot in the neighborhood thick with trees will suffice. When you're an adult, something larger is required.

I love woods. There's something special about them. Being in them. For extended time. Day after day is even better. Because you get to know them better.

Traipsing through woods every now and again is great, but not nearly as great as getting to know them. Well.

There is something therapeutic about woods, especially piney woods. A feeling. A sensation. There's a psychology to them for me.

My best description? They're a big exhale for me.

They help. I embrace it. I'm not imposing on them. They welcome me. Any time. I don't disturb their schedule. I don't ask them to do anything. Just be there. Just be what they naturally are. Let me stay. Stick around a bit. Then come back again tomorrow and notice more. Spot any changes. Be friendly.

Unlike most people, I trust piney woods. They don't pretend to be something they're not. They don't judge me or anybody else. They don't lie. Cheat. Or steal. They're just there existing for the pleasure of the wildlife and not-so-wildlife. As a 4th grader, I may have added to the population of wildlife, what with all the fort building, pine straw stacking, path clearing, and whatever else we did as kids.

But that's all behind me.

And even then I had moments of not-so-wildlife where we'd just sit on the pine needles and talk about what might come next. "What'da ya'll wanna do now?" somebody would ask. That might spark a 30-minute discussion of various ideas that somebody might invariably shoot down until we figured out something we could all agree on.

I hope kids today have those conversations, but something tells me they don't. A shallow investigation into social media platforms like TikTok and Snapchat indicates that our attention span is down to something like 8 seconds. Eight seconds? Isn't that the time bull riders need to complete a successful ride?

We were often bored as kids. It didn't always result in trouble either. It gave us time to talk, interact, argue, debate, and work things out. Eight seconds? Man alive, we spent hours collectively trying to figure out what we might do that would bring us our next adventure. But this isn't about "good 'ol days" syndrome. Honestly, it's not. I'm just trying to paint context for you of how we worked to close the distance from hope to help. The gap between whatever was in our heads and what we could make real.

Like the unmotorized go-carts, we'd make out of spare parts laying around in all our carports and garages. Or the homemade skateboards out of those old metal-wheeled rollerskates. Or the countless forts and treehouses we'd cobble together out of anything we could find. And how we'd decorate the insides without any help or influence from the likes of Chip and Joanna. By the way, does anybody else wonder why Chip thinks his long hair looks good? I've got a neighbor who is older than I am and he decided a ponytail would look good. No, it doesn't. You look ridiculous. So does Chip. Somebody help these people understand how unflattering it is to grow older and attempt to hang onto youthful fashion or hairdos. #JustSaying

Hope should dominate the life of every kid. I know the world is cruel and there are dangers galore, but every child deserves to be filled with hope about ...



On Saturday, May 29, 2021, I watched a suggested YouTube video. It was a 2014 award-winning documentary entitled, RESTRUNG. I guess I watch so many guitar videos that the YouTube algorithm had no problem suggesting I watch this video. Here's the YouTube description of the video:

He had always considered making guitars a passion, not an occupation. In 2007, Randall Wyn Fullmer, an ordinary guy with a cat, decided to turn his life-long hobby into a full-out obsession. To launch his adventure he did what anyone else would do — he quit his high paying dream job at Disney, leaving behind a successful 20 year career of creating major motion pictures such as "Chicken Little" and "The Emperor's New Groove". It seemed to make so much sense at the time! With Disney in the rear-view, he launched his self-proclaimed "Mad Plan", crafting small-batch bass guitars full time. From a beginner's electrifying success to near break-down, this is a beautiful, honest and inspirational portrait of a passionate craftsperson who walked headlong into a foolhardy dream ... a true tale of a life unwound and restrung.

You can check out Randall's website, Wyn Guitars. Watch the documentary and you'll be motivated to cheer for his continued success. And more.

A little over one minute into the documentary Randall says this...

Blind Optimism, Not-Too-Much Practicality & A Plan That So Boxes You In There's No Escape

Randall had figured out what he believed were the ingredients for success. I won't spoil the documentary for you, but I will tell you that it's not a story of a man who ditched a successful career at Disney only to experience hockey stick growth curve success. Mr. Fullmer has ups and downs. Like all the rest of us. Watching his journey made his quote even more powerful for me.

Besides, only days earlier I had shared a graphic on social media.

I suppose the earliest observers of success and achievement figured out how important it is to refuse to quit. One of the best quotes is from Babe Ruth.

You just can't beat the person who never gives up.

Well, maybe you can, but it's extremely tough. Angela Duckworth is a Wharton professor at the University of Pennsylvania who wrote a book entitled, Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance.

From an old-time baseball player to a modern-day researching university professor, there's plenty of evidence that sticking with it can pay off. This much is sure, if you quit, you'll never achieve whatever you're chasing.

Randall, the guitar maker, stated it differently. And I was immediately taken by how he voiced his beliefs about the requirements of achievement, especially when you're pursuing something creative. Like building guitars. I wonder how his Disney career influenced his wording - and his point of view. He had experience in collaborating with extraordinarily creative people. That's why I listened to his insight more intently. He was credible. And humbly vulnerable sharing things he didn't have to share, but in doing so helping us learn and better understand his journey.

Based on the volume of books and courses copywriters learned decades ago that people are attracted to formulas, secrets, and blueprints for success. While chasing success we're tempted to think the people already on top of the mountain of success know something the rest of us don't. Surely they've got the secret, formula, or blueprint. Then all the charlatans emerge posing as gurus. We don't know who is genuine and who isn't. Desperate to find the path toward the life of our dreams, we read, follow, consume and buy whatever it is they're selling. Only to be disappointed that the secrets they share with us - for a fee - aren't moving us any closer to our dreams.

Just before hitting record, I got an email invitation to attend a free webinar,

Before you click play on the episode click play on this music video from Iceland's best kept musical secret, Kaleo. I've spent hours with these gents playing in my headphones whilst walking about in the middle of the night, or in the early morning hours. They're terrific.

I like them so much I bought their latest record - Surface Sounds - twice! Intentionally. Well, I pre-ordered it on Apple iTunes and was able to download a couple of songs that were released early. This was early last year. Then the release date on the record kept moving back. And back. Hello, COVID Pandemic. Then the album was released, but Apple iTunes didn't let me download the other songs. So I Googled to troubleshoot Apple iTunes and followed at least 3 things suggested to fix such a problem. Nothing worked. In time I gave up and just hit the buy button again. Two weeks after the second purchase I got an email from Apple iTunes (see below).

So I bought the album twice but got it once. Maybe it'll put a few extra pennies into the pocket of the band. Thanks, Apple Music (I still call it Apple iTunes). Did I tell you I've been a devoted Apple user since the first Mac in 1984? Well, it's true. But even I lack the skills to know how to contact Apple about the aforementioned customer challenge. Such is life in 2021, right?

But I digress from the main point of today's special episode - yes, that's two special episodes in a row. Special because it wasn't planned. Instead, it's spontaneous. But I rather enjoy a good bout of spontaneity at times.

That song, "I Want More," rang in my ears and played in an endless loop for days. It sounds selfish, but it isn't. Not really. It's ambitious. It's restful. It's like a favorite place of mine. A place where you go to just exhale. And feel better. But where you can't quite get enough. Leaving you wanting more. And more. Because it's so highly valuable. A place where your arrival causes you to sigh with relief. Where the weight is lifted away.

A place where less is more. 

There are gobs of books about less being more. Some are business-related. Others are about health and fitness. Some are about stuff and lifestyle, like the one published in 2016 by noted minimalist Joshua Becker, The More of Less: Finding the Life You Want Under Everything You Own.

Another famous minimalist Leo Babauta wrote The Power of Less: The Fine Art of Limiting Yourself to the Essential...in Business and in Life in 2009. That was my first foray into the idea, meaning...it was my first deep dive into learning more about minimalism and why folks became converts of that way of life.

But in 2006 I had already been influenced a bit by John Maeda, author of The Laws of Simplicity (Simplicity: Design, Technology, Business, Life). Maeda is an MIT-educated tech brainiac. My lifelong devotion to my own lack of brainpower had forced me to simplify things. Part laziness. Part stupidity. I had a lifelong history of searching for simplicity in 2006 when I bought the book. I still have that passion - a relentless pursuit of straight-forward and simple.

I had to learn the hard way that simplifying things is hard, hard work. Sometimes my laziness doesn't pay quite like I expected. No matter...I still found it worthwhile. So much so that I continue to do it. Every single day.

Beginning with your physical surroundings.

I wish I had, but I didn't. My quest for more by leaning toward less first erupted in my career. Business pursuits. Business is challenging enough. There's no need to complicate it further. So I figured. So I still figure. Experience has confirmed my youthful yearnings for simplicity.

And one of the first things I learned as a young business leader was the power of beginning with your physical surroundings.

No notes for today's show. You readers will have to click play today. ;)

Thank you!

These 5 books have been on my mind lately. I've not re-read them lately, but I've ruminated about each of them (and others). Click on any of the images if you'd like to buy any of them. Yes, they'll be affiliate links earning me a rinky-dink commission. But you won't mind. Will you?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some other random useless/useful information about today's show:

Dunbar's number 

Beyond Order: 12 More Rules For Life by Jordan B. Peterson (his latest book)

Here's the view I looked at for a few days in Arkansas last week.



Thanks for listening!

Here's one theory about the origin from Wikipedia:

The origins are uncertain, but a common theory is that the expression arose after Conservative Prime Minister Robert Gascoyne-Cecil, 3rd Marquess of Salisbury ("Bob") appointed his nephew Arthur Balfour as Chief Secretary for Ireland in 1887, an act of nepotism, which was apparently both surprising and unpopular. Whatever other qualifications Balfour might have had, "Bob's your uncle" was seen as the conclusive one.

Salisbury is widely believed to be the Uncle Bob that the expression refers to. "Bob's your uncle" is said to derive from the supposed nepotism of Lord Salisbury, in appointing a favorite nephew, Arthur Balfour, to several political posts in the 1880s.

"Bob's your uncle" is an exclamation that is used when everything is alright and the simple means of obtaining the successful result is explained.

Here in America, we'd say, "a piece of cake" or "easy as pie." But I rather prefer, "And Bob's your uncle."

Today's episode was prompted by something that happened one year ago. I recorded the event on my personal Facebook page. Here's what I wrote.

Grandson #3 (Easton) and grandson #4 (Cason) went with us to see my parents yesterday. On the ride home Easton sees something and the obsession begins. It's the little marking on the side pillars of the car indicating that there's a side curtain airbag.

He's reading out the letters and asking, "What does that say?" All the letters are capitalized though, presenting a new challenge for his reading skills. From the backseat he's announcing the letters. "S, L, D, E, C, U, R, T..." No break or pause, just reading the letters in straight succession. I quickly realize the problem. The L isn't an L. It's a capital "i."

Me: "That doesn't spell anything. S,L,D aren't the first letters to anything."

Easton: "Yes, it is. That's what it says, S, L, D, E, C, U...(he goes on to announce every letter for the umpteenth time)."

Me: "That says, 'Bob's your uncle."

Easton: "No, it doesn't. Bob's your uncle doesn't start with S."

Me: "Sure it does."

Easton: "No, Bob's your uncle doesn't start with S."

Me: "What does 'Bob's your uncle start with?"

Easton: "B."

Me: "Very good."

Me: "That second letter isn't an L, it's an "i."

Easton: "But it doesn't have a dot."

Me: "It's a capital i. All those letters are capitalized."

Easton: "But it's S, L, D, E..." (again reciting every single letter)

Me: "It says, 'Side Curtain Airbag." (I go on to explain what that is)

Then comes a 10-minute conversation on how those airbags deploy. And I interject "Bob's your uncle" some more along the way.

Me: "When the airbags come out they say, 'Bob's your uncle' on them."

Easton: "But I've never seen them say, 'Bob's your uncle.'"

Me: "Because you've never seen airbags. They don't come out until you crash the car. You never want to see 'Bob's your uncle' unless you crash."

To add confusion, Rhonda inserts, "Cale is YOUR uncle."

Easton: "Then why does it say, 'Bob's your uncle?"

Me: "To let you know the airbags are out. And uncle Cale answers to, 'Bob.'"

This goes on for about 5 more minutes with Easton growing increasingly skeptical. Rhonda finally tells him I'm "pulling his leg." Of course, that means she has to explain what that phrase means.

Easton: "I thought so. I knew it didn't say, 'Bob's your uncle.'"

Now, I'm Googling for Bob's Your Uncle t-shirts in kid's sizes! I'm also coaching him to call Cale "Bob" the next time he sees him!

I smile every time I think of that car ride.

I wish Bob was my uncle, but I do have a cousin named Bob.

Easy peasy. That's our hokey American equivalent. Much less clever than, "And Bob's you're uncle."

I'm doing some computer work and watching Homicide Hunter on ID Discovery. It's just on as background noise, but I perk up when the shot includes Lt. Kenda looking into the camera asking about some dysfunctional family behavior that involved murder. He answers his own question with this witty answer,

"I don't know 'cause I'm not crazy."

Reasoning with unreasonable people.

Trying to relate to crazy when you're sane. Trying to influence foolishness with wisdom. Trying to combat hatred with love. Battling sadness with humor. There are many paradoxes.

"I don't know 'cause I'm not crazy."

It implies that if Lt. Kenda were crazy then perhaps he could better understand the crazy behaviors he observes.

I catch myself sometimes. Saying things that seem habitual. You know, those phrases or sayings you say all the time on auto-pilot. Without even thinking. Until one day you realize, "I say that an awful lot. I should quit doing that."

We all have them. Some of us more than others. Mine, at least on this occasion, was, "What do I know?"

What do I know?

I most often say it when I make an observation - not from certainty, but from uncertainty. That is, I really don't have much of a clue if I understand something or not. Then I say, "...but what do I know?"

Kenda has extensive knowledge of murder and crime. And criminal behavior. But he still doesn't understand it because it contains a level of crazy. And he's not crazy.

Don't we all know that sensation? That feeling?

Two people find themselves needing money. Desperately.

One scrambles to think of what he has that has any monetary value. Something he can sell. He thinks about what he might be able to do to hire himself out. Clean gutters. Rake leaves. Anything.

The other one doesn't think of any of those things. Instead, he thinks of who has what he wants - money. And how can he take it from them.

I see that first fellow and understand. But I don't understand the second fellow at all. My mind just doesn't go there.

Right and wrong. Those are heavily involved in these notions. Kenda can't relate to the criminal mind. Hopefully, neither can we.

Hopefully, we can't relate to the immoral mind. The person, who when faced with some serious challenge, thinks that bad behavior might somehow make things better. That alcohol, drugs, and sex just might provide the remedy to make their lives better. It never does. But I don't know 'cause I'm not crazy enough to think so.

Crime. Immorality. Human degradation.

Degradation is the act of lowering something or someone to a less respected state.

Would a person intentionally lower themselves to a less respected state? Of course. People do it all the time. Some don't think they're lowering themselves. Some are too self-centered and just don't care enough about themselves to increase their respected state. Still, others are plagued by addictions. Some others, by untreated or undiagnosed mental illness. Degradation is a complex issue.

The significant factor here is knowledge. Knowing. More accurately, it's about understanding, but as Kenda observed - that's impossible when you don't suffer the same crazy. Or the same delusion. Or the same foolishness. And honestly, do you want to? Of course not.

It makes solving these problems more challenging. It makes helping - serving - some people almost impossible.

"You can't reason with an unreasonable person."

"You can't want it for somebody if they don't want it for themselves."

So many truisms. What should we do then? I wish I knew, but I don't. 'Cause I'm not crazy. Or disposed to chasing foolishness. Or bent toward committing crimes or pursuing doing the wrong thing.