Category: Challenges

“Smart”

My Uncle Jim and I will never be mistaken for each other.

I am a college graduate with a double major in Economics & Management and English Composition and a year of graduate business school under my belt. He dropped out of high school. I have lived in Canada and Chile and several of our United States, and I have traveled in South America, Europe, Asia, and New Zealand. If Uncle Jim has spent any time at all outside a 100-mile radius of Rockton, Illinois, I would be shocked. I have worked in Fortune 500 companies and start-ups, most recently launching a franchise shared-workspace business. When he worked for someone other than a neighboring farmer, Uncle Jim drove a local delivery truck.

I don’t say this either to demean this most generous man or to extoll any talents of mine. These are facts, easily provable even in this charged political environment that doesn’t seem to recognize them.

I say all this because I was having a discussion with my brother on a drive back from southern California yesterday, and we landed on the word “smart.” He said he didn’t think he was as smart as our sister (kindly, he made no comment on how he thinks she and I compare!).

I’ve thought for some time that “smart” is a uselessly imprecise term, and I feel more strongly about that with every passing year. And when a man as talented as my brother feels like he is lacking, I know why I feel that way. “Smart” is such a nebulous concept with so many variables that it cannot be commonly defined. To wit:

If you wanted someone to build a business performance model, relating processes to each other, and associating costs and revenues to products and services, then you would be far better served to hire me to do that if your only other choice was Uncle Jim. I don’t think he’d be able to even comprehend what you wanted when you started to describe it. When it comes to creating a quantified reflection of what a business does, I am much smarter than my uncle, which is to say I understand the concepts, I know how to dissect a business, I’ve mastered the technology that allows me to build a pretty sophisticated model that can accommodate many scenarios, and I can communicate my findings.

Getting a truck or a tractor to run is a completely different situation however. I don’t know how an engine works, or how that engine transfers power to move not just the vehicle but also any equipment that it uses, or what that equipment even does. But Uncle Jim sure knows. Anything you find on a farm, he knows how to get it to work, and then he knows what to do with it once it’s going. When it comes to machines or farming, Uncle Jim is way, way smarter than me.

So when it comes to being “smart,” I think any assessment has to be contextual. There is just too much difference between people and their capabilities, knowledge and experiences – to say nothing of how all of that applies to the question at hand – to be able to declare definitively who is truly smart.

Cycling

I cycled the Katy Trail – at least part of it – last weekend with a couple of my best friends from college.

It was an interesting trip, and, as usual for these types of unusual experiences, highly informative. I learned so much. About Missouri. About my friends. And mostly about myself.

Central Missouri, at least along the Missouri River, is a beautiful, largely friendly place. For most of the ride we had the river on one side and bluffs on the other. The river is huge, much beefier than anything I’m used to seeing, and the bluffs are either exposed and looming or covered in vegetation and towering. Trailside trees make canopies in spots, tunnels in others. And when the river is away from the trail, fields of corn and soybeans cover the floodplain. The folks in the towns along the trail are welcoming. Very open and very helpful (with the exception of one intimidating general-store owner). And they love their Cardinals if shirts and hats are an accurate indication of such sentiments. . . .

Our ride went from Boonville to St. Charles, about 155 miles, with another 20-ish in side trips to Jefferson City and Hermann, over 4 days. It is the longest ride by far either of my friends have made, and so it tested them. It was easier for one than the other.

My first friend has arthritis and is significantly overweight, though he has been losing weight for a few months, and he did prepare for the ride by going on regular weekend rides in Chicago. He also drew the short straw on the rented bikes, getting the oldest and biggest and heaviest bike among the three of us. He struggled physically, slowing as the day and days went along. His arthritis affected him as he stayed in the same position on the bike for hours, and he spent a lot of the first couple days deep in the pain cave. He never complained, but it seemed to me that he often wondered if he’d be able to finish the ride. On the third day his rear wheel went way out of true, so we passed the bike around – when he was on one of the other bikes, his ride felt a lot better, which lifted his mood, and the fourth day he got a new bike, which made a huge difference in how he felt. It was so gratifying to see him finish the ride and to see in him the pride that comes with completing something that is really hard to do.

My other friend had the opposite experience: he was the nervous one going into the ride, but when we got started he was nearly euphoric with how manageable he found it. He’s been training consistently for nearly a year now, and he dedicated a large part of his training in the weeks leading up to the ride to the bike. That preparation paid off big time. He could easily handle the pace and the distance, and the confidence that bloomed the first day just continued to grow over the rest of the trip. He was very pumped by the end, and so excited that he started talking about other trips we could do.

As for me, I enjoyed the ride, but for different reasons than I expected. I always like spending time with these friends, and being with them for 4 consecutive days was no strain at all. But where I thought the ride itself might be the background for more vivid interactions with my buddies it actually became the centerpiece of the time we spent together. We pedaled probably over 17 hours, and over that time I became first aware and then deeply appreciative of the act of cycling in a way I’ve never felt before. I realized that being outdoors, in nature, moving myself through space, gave me a deep and profound joy that was even more satisfying because it was also unexpected. That I got to share that joy with close friends added to the delight.

I wouldn’t hesitate to reprise the experience, preferably with company and even more preferably with the specific company I had on this ride, but my biggest learning was that I can enjoy such a trip even if I made it alone.  And I like knowing that.