I Am The World's Greatest Lion Tamer

I announced to four strangers that I am the world’s greatest lion tamer.  Then I added that I only use humane training methods with my lions.

I was taking a one-night class called How To Get What You Wish For.  The presenter, Barbara Sher, had broken us up into 5-person groups and asked us to tell a big lie about ourselves to the people in our group.

Barbara Sher based the class on her book Wishcraft.

I realized that my big lie about lion taming presented me in a good light.  I thought about the way my little lies present me in a good light: I tell people I am a little bit taller than I actually am and a few pounds lighter than I actually weigh.  The same way my exaggerations present me in a good light: I tell people that I graduated from Wat Po Medical School in Thailand, when what I really did was complete a two-week course there.

After everyone in the class had finished telling their big lies, Barbara Sher asked: “How well do you know the people in your group?”  The majority responded “Very well”.

Barbara responded:  “And all they did was lie to you.”

Lie-telling was an ice-breaker to warm up the class for the focal point of the class: how to get what you wish for.

How do you get what you wish for?  Just talk to some people and tell them what you wish for and then describe an obstacle that is in your way.  The typical American, when they hear someone’s obstacles, will instinctively start making suggestions on how to overcome them.

I know that this is true.

I was at a festival in Pilot Knob, Missouri, site of a Civil War Battle – a Union victory which kept St. Louis from falling into Confederate hands.

At the festival, someone said she would give me a tour of her church a few blocks away.  The hook: the church served as a hospital during the battle and had the bloodstains to prove it. 

During the tour of Immanuel Lutheran Church, which was built by Germans, I was told that the congregation numbered less than 20.  Because of their small size, the congregation wished they had the money for the upkeep of the church.

An obstacle!  My American mind sprang into action and I started making suggestions:

The church really did have blood stains where Civil War soldiers had died; so charge money for ghostly flashlight tours of the church after dark. 

The church had an antique organ; charge money for concerts. 

There was a church hall next door: play up the German heritage by painting a German saying on the front of the hall: “Froh beim Bier das lieben wir”, and put on money-making sausage-and-sauerkraut suppers.

Brilliant suggestions tumbled out of me; suggestions on how to get what the congregation wished for.  

However, I never did follow up to see if Immanuel Lutheran Church started giving flashlight tours or antique organ concerts.  

I do not know if they painted a German saying on their church hall.  If they did, it probably wasn’t the saying I suggested, because “Froh beim Bier, das lieben wir” translates into English as “Happy with the beer that we love so dear.”

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A one-minute YouTube video: an overview of the Battle of Pilot Knob, also known as the Battle of Fort Davidson:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XmUk4loHvCw

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NOTE: Doug's best stories have been collected into a book: Puppy Out Of Breath.  Price = $11.  You can purchase a copy at  http://www.puppyoutofbreath.com

The Dreaded Cellphone Moment

In 1975, a friend scolded me for taking 4 weeks to answer his letters.

I carefully explained to him: He lived in New York, and I lived in Sokoto, in the far northwest corner of Nigeria.  It took 2 weeks for a letter to get from New York to Sokoto.  If I answered his letter immediately, it would take 2 weeks for that letter to get to New York.  2 + 2 = 4.

Back then, a 4-week gap did not bother me; I did not feel out of reach.

In 2011, I took a guided tour of Alaska.  There were some Californians on the tour.  Wherever we went in Alaska, the Californians took out their cellphones to see if they could get reception.  They checked their cellphones when we were walking on glaciers, when we were kayaking in rivers, when we were trekking on mountains. 

They were in constant fear of the Dreaded Cellphone Moment: the moment when they could not get a cellphone signal.

Only once were the Californians unable to get a cellphone signal in Alaska, and it made them panicky…panicky because, without a cellphone signal, they were out of reach.

The Californians made me chuckle then, but I don't chuckle anymore because I took a trip to Des Moines in 2014, and used Google Maps on my cellphone to guide me there.

I drove to Des Moines to teach a Scottish Country Dance workshop, and the plan was for me to stay with two dancers: Sue and Gerry.  I got to Des Moines mid-afternoon and visited the Art Center: a delightful place where I snapped a bunch of photos with my cellphone. 

The Art Center was about to close, so it was time to log on to Gmail to find the message where Sue and Gerry had sent me their address.

Uh oh...my cellphone said “LOW BATTERY - 10%”, and the phone refused to do anything.  The GPS and the photos had taken their toll.

I told an Art Center security guard my sob story: I couldn’t read my email on my phone.

The security guard suggested that I could use an Art Center PC to log on to the Internet and read my email.  I told the Museum gift shop person my sob story, and she turned her PC on for me.  

I logged into Gmail, and Gmail became very perceptive.  Instead of displaying my email for me, Gmail told me that I had never logged on from this computer before.  For my own safety, they would send me a special security code.

I breathed a sigh of relief.  I was one step away from getting Sue and Gerry's address.

Gmail said they would send the special security code to my cellphone.

I now felt utterly helpless.

Then the security guard suggested that Sue and Gerry might have a landline phone. 

A landline phone?  How quaint!  Also, how lucky!  They did have a landline phone, and their address was listed in the Des Moines white pages. 

So, in 2014 I had to use 1975 technology to reach Sue and Gerry’s house.

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Being out of cellphone reach is now an integral part of every horror movie made by Hollywood.  Here is a 5-minute compendium of scenes where actors discover they have no cellphone service:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XIZVcRccCx0

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NOTE: Doug's best stories have been collected into a book: Puppy Out Of Breath.  Price = $11.  You can purchase a copy at  http://www.puppyoutofbreath.com