Humor 1/1/00: Minnesota Temperature conversion guide & Man and His Work

Hi everyone,

Happy New Year! I hope you had a fun New Year's Eve. I decided to
enjoy a hotpot with my family, play Trivia Pursuit, and just watch the
New Year Eve festivities around the world on TV. It was a relaxing New
Year's Eve.

Some of my friends know that I have two weaknesses among many. The
first is that I tend to buy a lot of books without ever reading them.
They either sit on my bookshelves or in boxes at my parents' house. The
second is that even when I start reading a book, I usually don't finish
and quit after a few chapters. Well, over this vacation, I actually
finished some of the books that I started reading years ago. One of
them is "What Makes a Man? 12 Promises That Will Change Your Life",
edited by Bill McCartney. This week's inspirational story comes from
Dr. James Dobson, which can be found in the book. It is very long, so I
suggest that you print this email out and read it when you have time. I
think that it is relevant to both man and woman, married and single. I
also really enjoyed browsing through my Chinese art books.

I normally don't make New Year resolutions. However, after reading the
book mentioned above, I decided to make one. My resolution is that if
you send me a personal email, then I will respond within one day. In
the past year or so, I have been terrible at responding to personal
emails and I hope to do a better job this year.

This week's thought provoking question is: "If there is a fire at your
house, and you can only take one item out with you, what would it be?"

This week's humor was forwarded by Monica Quock, followed by an
inspirational article by Dr. James Dobson.

Enjoy!

-Josh.
_________________________________________

The temperature Conversion Guide

60 above: New Yorkers try to turn on the heat.
Minnesotans plant gardens.

50 above: Californians shiver uncontrollably.
Minnesotans sunbathe.

40 above: Italian cars won't start.
Minnesotans drive with the windows down.

32 above: Distilled water freezes.
Minnehaha Creek water gets thicker.

20 above: Floridians wear coats, gloves & wool hats.
Minnesotans throw on a T-shirt.

15 above: Californians begin to evacuate the state.
Minnesotans go swimming.

Zero: New York landlords finally turn up the heat
Minnesotans have the last cookout before it gets cold.

10 below: People in Miami cease to exist.
Minnesotans lick flag poles.

20 below: Californians fly away to Mexico.
Minnesotans throw on a light jacket.

40 below: Hollywood disintegrates.
Minnesotans rent some videos.

60 below: Mt. St. Helens freezes.
Minnesota Girl Scouts begin selling cookies door to door.

80 below: Polar bears begin to evacuate Antarctica.
Minnesota Boy Scouts postpone "Winter Survival" classes until it gets
cold enough.

100 below: Santa Claus abandons the North Pole.
Minnesotans pull down their earflaps.

173 below: Ethyl alcohol freezes.
U of M students get frustrated when they can't thaw the keg.

297 below: Microbial life survives on dairy products.
Waseca's cows complain of farmers with cold hands.

460 below: ALL atomic motion stops.
Minnesotans start saying "Cold'nuff for ya?"

500 below: Hell freezes over.
Jesse Ventura is President.
____________________________

A Man and His Work by Dr. James Dobson

In twentieth-century America, it is almost inevitable that a vigorous
competition arises between a man's job and his home. Achieving a
balance between two areas of responsibility requires constant vigilance,
and quite frankly, most men tip the scales drastically in the direction
of their employment.

I have struggled to achieve a proper perspective between my profession
and my family. Just when I think I have conquered the dragon of
overcommitment, I say "yes" a few times when I should have said "no,
thanks," and the monster arises to maul me again. I know of no easier
mistake to make, nor one that has such devastating implications for the
family.

The worst siege of overcommitment I've ever experienced came once when I
went through six weeks of incredible pressure, involving obligations
that should have been spread over six months.

I had agreed to speak at various functions around the country on five
out of six consecutive weekends. At the same time, I was facing
deadlines on a new book, three new tape albums, a weekly radio
broadcast, and a random IRS audit (lucky me). Fatigue mounted week by
week, as I ran to catch planes, write speeches, and search for tax
receipts.

The climax occurred in early October, when I flew to Cincinnati to
participate in a Praise Gathering, sponsored by Bill Gaither. I lost a
night of sleep going in, due to the time change, and then spent two days
standing before crowds ranging from two hundred to eight thousand. It
was an exhilarating time of teaching and sharing and counseling, but it
squeezed the last drop of energy from my frame. As I staggered toward
the airport in a state of utter exhaustion, one thought pulsed through
my head, "It's over!"

Let's leave that westbound plane for a moment and journey to a home in
Arcadia, California, where my wife, Shirley, is also approaching the end
of a siege. For six long weeks she has run the home without benefit of
a man. It has been her task to discipline, train and guide, feed,
medicate, and bathe two rambunctious kids. Needless to say, she is also
near the point of exhaustion. Furthermore, Shirley has hardly seen her
husband since the first of September, and her emotional needs have been
on a prolonged "hold." One thought gives her strength to continue: "At
last, Jim is coming home, and he'll take over!"

It takes no great analyst to observe that Shirley and I approached that
final weekend on a collision course! Each of us was too exhausted to
consider the needs of the other.

I arrived home on Friday night, and Shirley greeted me warmly at the
door. We chatted about recent events and the kids and routine matters
before sleep overtook us. The next morning went smoothly enough . at
least until breakfast was over. As we were finishing the meal, our
attitudinal differences suddenly blew up in our faces.

"Uh, Jim," said Shirley, "as you know, seventy-five members from the
Singles Department at our church will be using our house tonight, and I
need you to help me get ready for them. First, I want you to wash down
the patio umbrella."

My blood pressure immediately shot up to about 212, and steam began to
curl from my ears. Didn't Shirley know how hard I had worked? What
kind of a slave driver was this woman? Didn't she understand how much I
needed this day? Well, I'll tell you something! I'm watching that
football game, and if Shirley doesn't like it she can just lump it!

So I had my way. I watched the football game in my study, but the
tension around me was incredible. Silence prevailed between husband and
wife. Not a word had been spoken since our terse interchange in the
backyard. Then our anger began to turn into mutual hurt, which is even
more damaging to communication.

The seventy-five church members came that evening and were served
refreshments on the patio. They didn't seem to notice the dirty
umbrella. They eventually departed, leaving me in the company of a mute
female who still acted like the entire episode was my fault. Isn't that
just like a woman?

Then came the awkward time of day called bedtime. I climbed into my
side of the kingsize bed and parked as close to the edge as possible
without plunging over the precipice. Shirley did likewise, clinging
tenaciously to her "brink." At least eight feet of mattress separated
us. No words were spoken. There were, however, frequent sighs from
both parties, accompanied by much rolling and tossing. Shirley finally
got up to take two aspirin and then returned to bed. Fifteen minutes
later I turned on the light to put some drops in my nostrils. What
followed was one of the worst nights of sleep in my life.

The next morning was Sunday, which presented more uncomfortable
moments. We dressed and went to our adult class, still bearing deep
wounds and resentment. And wouldn't you know, the teacher chose that
morning to talk about marital harmony and God's plan for husbands and
wives. Shirley and I nodded and smiled in agreement, but we felt like
kicking each other under the table. It made me suspect that many other
couples were also putting on a good front to hide their real feelings.

I wish I could say that the problem was resolved on Sunday afternoon,
but such was not the case. Nor did it end on Monday or Tuesday. By
Wednesday morning, we were sick to death of this silent warfare. We
were both more rested by that time, and the issue began to lose some of
its fire. I told Shirley I wanted her to join me for breakfast at a
restaurant, and announced my intention of going to work late.

What occurred was a beautiful time of communication and love. I began
to see that Shirley was in the same state of need that I had been. She
began to understand the depths of my fatigue. We talked it out and
reestablished the closeness that makes life worth living. Not only did
we survive the crisis, but we learned several valuable lessons and grew
from the experience.

Let me now share with you the biggest lesson that came from this
experience: [Overcommitment is the number-one marriage killer.]
(Italicized) Perhaps this will assist you in handling a similar episode
in your marriage.

This lesson teaches us several things. Not only are fatigue and time
pressure destructive to parent-child relationships, but they undermine
even the healthiest of marriages. How can a man and woman communicate
with each other when they're too worn out even to talk? How can they
pray together when every moment is programmed to the limit?

>From this vantage point, I have to admit that my fight with Shirley was
primarily my fault. Not that I was wrong in wanting to rest after
arriving home. But I was to blame for foolishly overcommiting my time
during that period. The conflict would never have occurred if I had not
scheduled myself wall to wall for six weeks. My lack of discipline in
my work caused Shirley and me to become exhausted, which brought a chain
reaction of negative emotions: irritability, self-pity, petulance,
selfishness, and withdrawal. Few marriages can survive a long-term dose
of that bitter medicine.

Many men already know that it isn't easy to implement a slower
lifestyle. Prior commitments have to be met. Financial pressures must
be confronted. Also, we must not overlook that ever-present masculine
need to succeed, to push, to strive, to accomplish.

Besides, isn't everyone else doing the same thing? Sure they are. I
don't even know any men who aren't running at a breathless pace - my
physician, my lawyer, my accountant, my handyman, my mechanic, my
pastor, my next-door neighbor. There is symbolic sweat on the brow of
virtually every man in North America. Most of these husbands and
fathers will admit that they're working too hard, but an interesting
response occurs when this subject is raised. They have honestly
convinced themselves, and will tell you with a straight face, that their
overcommitment is a result of temporary circumstances. A slower day is
coming. A light shines at the end of the dark tunnel.

Unfortunately, their optimism is usually unjustified. It is my
observation that the hoped-for period of tranquility rarely arrives.
Instead, these short-term pressures have a way of becoming sandwiched
back to back, so that families emerge from one crisis and sail directly
into another. Thus, we live our entire lives in the fast lane, hurtling
down the road toward heart failure. And what is sacrificed in the
process are the loving relationships with wives and children and friends
who give life meaning.

I, for one, have examined America's breathless lifestyle and find it to
be unacceptable. Why should we work ourselves into an early grave,
missing those precious moments with loved ones who crave our affection
and attention? It is a question that every man and woman should
consider.

Let me offer this final word of encouragement for those who are
determined to slow the pace: once you get out from under constant
pressure, you'll wonder why you drove yourself so hard for all those
years. There is a better way!
--
_____________________________________

Joshua Li
14400 Addison Ave. #119
Sherman Oaks CA 91423
(818)461-8930
Instant Messenger ID: joshli
Permanent Email: joshli@post.harvard.edu
http://personal.anderson.ucla.edu/joshua.li/