Goals Gone Wild
Issue #162: Manual Dexterity
Feb 15, 2008

Manual Dexterity

Jim Hill, RightBrain/Co-Founder

My parents gave me lots of building toys when I was kid. I loved them and had a pretty complete range from Erector Sets (stop giggling) to Lincoln Logs (seriously, enough giggling). I spent a lot of time putting things together with those sets, and when I got bored with them I turned to taking other things apart. Toys. home appliances, heck, anything I could crack open had to face my endlessly quizzical mind.

As I got older I discovered the transcendent joy in my Uncle's back issues of Popular Mechanics, and my Grandfather’s workshop. More toys and appliances met their ends at my hands (I even managed to put some of them back together on occasion). I made dry cell battery electromagnets for show and tell, and jury rigged Rube Goldberg devices for science fairs.

As an adult, I spend most of my time working on a computer and very little actually building and repairing things. However, as a homeowner of a house that can be politely descrbed as a “fixer-upper”, I’ve had ample opportunity; I’ve just passed it off to the professionals.

Until last week that is.

After a week of listening to the second floor toilet running I’d had enough. It was time to put my childhood skills to the test. I approached my adversary with my trusty tackle box of tools tucked under one arm (say that three times fast). I removed the tank lid and plunged my arm into the not-quite-icy water. Flush, observe, repeat. My mind flashed through images of legos, can openers, switches, and bolts. I was Keanu Reeves in the Matrix. I was plugged in and I would know the secrets of toilet repair any minute now.

I quickly decoded the mechanics involved and began to effect the necessary repair. No problem here, I’ll be done in under five minutes, just adjust this post with the floaty-thing and…. Whoooooooooooshhhhh!

Water exploded into my face and blasted the ceiling. Holy crap! Bone-chilling water gushed from the tank and rained down on me and everything in the bathroom. I had no choice, I broke down and hollered for help. My wife, Kris, came running and quickly shut the water to the toilet off. I dried off, mopped up and hit the internet to see where I went wrong.

Google to the rescue. The first step listed for toilet repair was this simple sentence:

Step 1: Make sure the water shutoff valve for the toilet is in the OFF position.

Duh. It seems so obvious to me now, but I was sure I could figure it out. I was smart enough, creative and clever enough to repair a toilet. If I’d only taken a moment to get that one crucial piece of advice I could’ve worn dry underwear all day. All day!

When it was all over and the toilet was once again quiet (“Run Silent, Run Deep”), I thought about the process and how my error in this effort mimicked errors in other areas. I’m a pretty confident guy and feel capable of figuring out just about any problem set in front of me. And yet, I missed the first step and because I did the project fell apart (well, gushed apart).

Next time I’ll look for advice before, ahem, plunging in.


Related Links

Toilet Repair
Dry Cell Battery Electromagnet
Rube Goldberg


Quote of the Week

"What is defeat? Nothing but education; nothing but the first step to something better."
- Wendell Phillips (1811 - 1884)
"A man builds a fine house; and now he has a master, and a task for life; he is to furnish, watch, show it, and keep it in repair, the rest of his days."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803 - 1882)

Coaching Quickie: Manual Dexterity

At what point would you call for help when fixing your proverbial toilet?

Follow the link above to vote for your response. While you're there lend us your feedback, or share some goals with fellow readers.

Check back next week for results!

Last Week's Results

Coaching Quickie: Your Time to Shine
How well in advance do you plan for your next major life accomplishment?

(25%) Early and often. Before the ink is dry on one of my goals, I'm already thinking about the next.
(25%) Steady Eddie. Once I've built momentum toward a goal, I start to think about the future.
(38%) The end is near. If I'm comfortably near the finish line, I'll think about setting a new goal.
(13%) Real-time. I'm between goals at the moment - I'll let you know when one comes up.

If you missed it, you can read last week's newsletter online here.