Questions: Important For Llamas And Finding The Truth

“Have you calculated the ultimate question of life, the universe and everything?” – Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

Sean Connery is a stickler for grooming.  I was stuck in a burning building while he was using the extinguisher to keep a path open for me.  Then he told me, “shave yourself!”

A few years ago I was meeting with a person that reported to me at work.  I was asking a question with a yes or no answer.  One thing that being in thousands of hours of corporate meetings has taught me is that if you ask an open ended question, people will talk.  And talk.  And talk.  Even if they have nothing to say – those meeting room corporate doughnuts aren’t going to eat themselves.

So, a lot of my questions were phrased in the form of, “Do you know where the llama is?”

My company doesn’t use llamas except for unlicensed medical experimentation to find a cure for chronic nose picking, so in this case “llama” is really easier than referencing the “Illudium Q-36 Explosive Space Modulator” that we really make.

There are really only two answers:

• “Yes, John Wilder, the llama is in the break room playing beer pong with Vladimir Putin.”
• “No, John Wilder, I have no idea.”

Well, I guess we know what’s going to happen in July.

A pattern that I had noticed was that when the answer was “Yes, I know where the llama is,” people would just say, “Yes.”

Simple.  We’re done.  Move on to the next question.

But if people didn’t know where the llama was, what I mentally thought of as “The Story” started.  The story had a million variants:  “No, John Wilder, I don’t know where the llama is because it had sticky glands and we were out of llama soap and a friend came in from out of town and I just quit heroin and Vladimir Putin took off his shirt and making sweet talk to the llama last week.”

The Story is long.  The Story isn’t really relevant.

People didn’t want to tell me “No.”  If they had, and knowing where the llama was mattered, I could follow up with a question.  Most of the time my question was, “Well, when are you going to find the llama?”  Frankly, I’ve heard more excuses than Joe Biden has lost memories, so “Why don’t you know where the llama is?” was most of the time something I didn’t really care about.  But they made the decision that I cared why they didn’t know where the llama was.

Never worry about food when you travel with llamas.  Alpaca lunch.

I had one very bright employee, Bill Nothisrealname, that a recent college grad.  He started to explain why he didn’t know where the llama was:  he was winding up to tell The Story.

I stopped him.

“Bill, you were first in your class in high school, right?”

“Yes.”

“And then you went to college at Southern North Eastern Midwestia State, which is a pretty good school.  Heck, I bet that you were in the top ten in GPA in your degree?”

“Yeah, I was in the top five of the class.”

I gestured at the offices up and down the hallway.  “Bill, everyone here was at the top of their class in high school and graduated at the top of their class from college in a degree just as tough as yours.  My boss, Boris.  He’s as smart as a Vulcan that crossbred with a computer and has the personality to match.  When he asks me a question, he wants me to answer that question.  He’s no dummy.

“And Boris isn’t afraid to ask questions, either.  He’s realized that even as a top executive in the company, he doesn’t and can’t know everything.”

Bill nodded.

I never really liked that Coppola movie, Alpaca Lips Now.

“Here’s what I think.  When you were in third grade, you were smart.  When the rest of the class didn’t know the answer, the teacher looked at you, right?”

“Yes.”

“And that didn’t change in high school.  Or, for you, even in college.  I think that you think you have to know the answer, because you were the smart kid.  Bill, everyone, and I mean everyone here is that smart.  You weren’t hired because you knew all of the answers – you were hired because you were smart, and had good character.  Don’t be afraid to not know everything – asking questions is a sign of power.  And . . . answer the question that was asked.

“Bill, do you know where the llama is?”

“No.”

But don’t-a worry – health is her new issue.  She’s still all-in for Ollamacare.

I moved on to the next question.  In this case, the llama wasn’t all that important, except as it related to teaching Bill that he didn’t need to know everything, and that asking questions isn’t a sign of weakness, it’s a sign of self-confidence.  And if it sounded like the exchange was mean, it really wasn’t.  Bill’s worldview was just a bit off.  Besides, I knew that once Putin got his claws into a really pretty llama like this one, we wouldn’t see either of them until they’d ridden through the mountains together and hunted the Rocky Mountain Spotted Poodle – the only true sport for men.

The point is still valid.  Whenever I’ve seen a good leader, that leader isn’t afraid to ask questions, and isn’t afraid to admit that they don’t know everything.  Part of writing this blog is me answering my own questions.  And I have to be right – you’re a tough but fair crowd, and you tell me when my participle is dangling.

Questions are important.

The first thing I like to question is myself.  Scott Adams says that two people might watch the same event and give it entirely different meaning – he calls it watching two movies on one screen.  An example is Trump:  Leftists think that everything, and I mean everything he does is comprised of a pure evil that requires he eat a live puppy every day.  There’s even a name for it:  Trump Derangement Syndrome (TDS).  The symptoms include being triggered, literally shaking, wandering around in a circle muttering, “impeach . . . impeach . . . impeach.”  Thankfully, many sufferers have found work as extras on The Walking Dead.

That’s one movie.  There’s a second group that views Trump as a genius God Emperor who is sixteen steps ahead, playing 11-dimensional chess.  This group thinks that the riots are perhaps his crowning achievement since he can use the riots to . . . ummm, I’m not sure what.  I bet that plan shows up soon.

Both groups are wrong.   My experience is you can talk to the God Emperor crowd, but the TDS sufferers just can’t discuss Trump.  At all.

How much of my reality am I allowing to be filtered?  How much am I deluding myself?  These are the questions I repeatedly ask as I look for Truth.

Or you could just take their lunch money and buy yourself something nice.

The second question are my sources.  People write all sorts of things, and on the Internet I can find a theory that all of the Challenger space shuttle crew survived the explosion and are still living today.  Why?  Because the Earth is flat.  Really, that’s what they believe.  There are also people who believe that the world is run by reptilian aliens who run the banks.

Of course those are absurd.  The Internet is so questionable when it comes to facts that I’ve even seen Internet reports that I have hair.  But how many shades of truth do we believe in each day without checking?  I know that I’ve been shocked when I do research for Wilder, Wealthy and Wise that it’s not what I know that shocks me:  it’s what I know that isn’t right.  Who knew kittens couldn’t fly, even if you used a really big slingshot to give them a good takeoff?

The next question are my viewpoints.  How many are wrong?  In some cases I have taken years to figure out what I think about a subject, because I just hadn’t figured out the right way to look at it:  I just don’t have a mental or moral model that fits it properly.  I ended up being a ping-pong ball.  There were good points on each side.  How do the pros and cons line up?

When I was younger, I was more of a pure libertarian, even sometimes a Libertarian.  I believed that if McDonalds™ wanted to sell me a hydrogen bomb and I had the cash, I should be able to order a McNuke®.  As I get older, maybe not.  And I now think that young children shouldn’t have guns:  they’re much more effective using a crew-served weapon like a heavy machine gun or a mortar since they can overcome their inherent weakness by working together.  If only a six year old could lift artillery shells….

My militia may be small, but they work for chocolate milk.

The final question is what can I learn from others?  And I can only do that by asking questions – and having the humility to listen to the answers, no matter how stupid they are.  I kid.  I really have learned a lot by listening instead of talking.

So, anybody know where the llama is?  Did another one fall in love with Putin?