The Final Post or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the VSP

PREFACE

I never intended this blog to lie dormant for over a month, but that's what happened.  Naturally.  Organically.  Kind of like a volcano.

I guess I just needed to vent about the Air Force and my Voluntary Separation Pay (VSP) before I turned into Mount St. Helens or worse.

Yea, kinda like that.

In hindsight, I wonder if I subconsciously needed to use a blog as a means of exorcising my demons?  Maybe, but what's it really matter now?  I'm over it.

All I know is that this blog has come to the end of its useful life.  There is nothing left to worry about or cling to here.

Thanks VSP.

But before I go, how about one more rant?

Yea, I know, but I couldn't resist.

Enjoy.

TOTO, I'VE GOT A FEELING WE'RE NOT IN ALABAMA ANYMORE.

I seriously thought I was in Alabama this morning.  Here's why:

(1)  I drove an hour outside the city (Houston versus Montgomery) to the town of Huntsville (TX not AL) where I found really friendly people and an outdoorsy vibe.

(2)  I discovered a local state park with an entire system of dummy-proof running trails.  I know they're dummy proof because I (the dummy) didn't get lost!

(3)  I ran the first five miles in an utter rage over a stupid Facebook post about someone's interpretation of leadership.  This correlates to my anger over Squadron Officer School, which is located in Alabama.

I thought I was getting over the whole Air Force leadership thing, but this individual and his poorly disguised attempts at self-flattery vis-à-vis stating his becoming a commander and taking Air Command and Staff College courses pushed me over the edge.

The nature of the post was a request for assistance with further developing his paper on emotional intelligence (EQ) versus cognitive intelligence (IQ) as the discussion pertains to Air Force leadership.

I nearly had a meltdown.

Video:  Seriously.

Why?  WHY?!  I'll tell you why:  This may be one of the most tired, trite, overdeveloped, misunderstood, and pointless topics in the realm of leadership.  IMHO, of course.

It just seems like the Air Force can't let this idea go.  We talk about it as undergrads, lieutenants, and captains.  But now as commanders?  Really?!  You're a major!  If you think there is some magical recipe for EQ versus IQ (not to mention systems intelligence or spiritual intelligence or a whole host of other measures) in a single human, then there is nothing I can say or do to convince you otherwise.

This is why (and I am borrowing here) I can thank the VSP for allowing me to see that there was at least one event per day that confirmed my decision to leave the Air Force.  This one just had a 26-day delay on it.

But instead of ragging on this guy anymore than I already have, I am going to offer 10 ways to improve the argument.  Take 'em for what they're worth.

(A)  You can't change the amount of EQ or IQ that you have.  Thus, why not offer an argument about neuroscience or brain chemistry and nature versus nurture?  Additionally, why are leaders so bad at realizing their strengths and leveraging those?  We try way too hard to improve our weaknesses, when in fact, many of our perceived shortfalls are hardwired and can be used for good if we only stopped trying to change everything else all the time.

(B)  Figure out how both EQ and IQ types are necessary in taking the Air Force from a vertical organization to a flat organization.  The drawdown is making it more important than ever to operate as teams across different silos.  What's that ratio?

(C)  The Air Force is leaner than ever.  So regardless of your particular EQ and IQ makeup, how do you recommend commanders optimize personnel retention as it relates to the appropriate mix of EQ, IQ, and SQ leaders for the future?  One of the charges of commanding is to grow your replacements, right?

(D)  Discuss how the EQ-heavy/IQ-lite and EQ-lite/IQ-heavy commanders learn to see 'their' troops as customers.  Understanding that the customer isn't always right, couldn't we still argue that no two individuals are the same and therefore require different incentive structures?  HINT:  Not everyone wants to be you or shares your idea of success or your stance on praise.  How do you bridge the EQ-IQ divide?  Why not let the technically savvy remain in those jobs versus forcing them into management roles they despise (i.e. simply using EQ folks to fill EQ roles and using IQ folks to fill IQ roles)?  Duh, right?

(E)  Talk about the unnecessary internal conflict that most leaders feel when trying to shift their particular ratio of EQ and IQ (c.f. A, above).  Again, accept who you are and fashion your management style in this way.  Consistency is king and much better than vacillating between different people's opinions of you.

(F)  There are more than just two categories of people.  How do EQ and IQ leaders see the breakdown of their units?  HINT:  The entire spectrum of commander types would do well to flip the 90-10 convention on its head or create some sort of different breakdown like 10-80-10 (i.e. stop spending 90% of your time on 10% of your bad apples).

(G)  Regardless of your brain chemistry and cognitive intelligence, talk about learning to listen to the guys, learning to learn from the guys, and learning to love the guys (c.f. D, above).  Always know your why.  HINT:  The guys.

(H)  Talk about how both EQ and IQ leaders need to become Picasso (i.e. steal and implement what works instead of always reinventing the wheel).

(I)  Explain how each type should assume the best in their people and stop controlling and monitoring.  Both EQ and IQ commanders would do well to set clear expectations, back off, and then be dazzled with how their guys meet or exceed expectations.  In other words, how do both types stop managing and start leading.

(J)  Be authentic.  If you are a cheerleader, then be a cheerleader.  If you are a technical nerd, then be a technical nerd.  Own it.  Otherwise you run the risk of losing your star performers because of your own poor example.  In the end you have to recognize and embrace your particular intelligence ratio and simply surround yourself with 'smart' people.

CONCLUSION

Now, if you'll excuse me...my 64-oz growler and I have a date at the bar.  Seriously.

We Left the Lights On: C-A-N-C-E-R

Ten points is all you get for using "cancer" in a game of Scrabble.

Well I think that's pretty crappy.  Not that cancer should be worth more, that's not really how the game works, but ten lousy points for confronting certain pain and sickness and possibly death?

I realize that cancer treatment has come a very, very long way over the years.  For instance, I have an uncle who is doing incredibly well following treatment and a best friend's father who is in remission.  Just a few years ago I'm sure both types had lower probabilities for successful outcomes and almost a certain guarantee of maximum discomfort before death.

Sometimes, however, I think cancer gets a bad rep because folks believe cancer is associated with poor behavior (i.e. smokers brought it on themselves, etc.) and they deserve their sickness.  Perhaps the magnitude of cancer gets swept aside because of people like Lance Armstrong who beat cancer, but ultimately end up being assholes and cheats and liars and frauds.

Regardless, I think cancer is still a pretty big deal.  This was especially so last summer when I had a bunch of weird moles and bumps appear on my stomach and face.

Now I know that I don't take the greatest care of myself and that I have some bad habits, but I was shocked when the on-base psuedo-practioner-of-medicine that the Air Force lovingly calls a "doctor" referred me to an off-base dermatologist.

Of course my mind cross referenced everything I'd ever "learned" on Grey's Anatomy and I was certain that I was going to die like Izzie Stephens since she found a weird mole on her back that ended up being brain cancer and then she had hallucinations and... 

Yea, I know that thought process is idiotic, but when it takes 90 days to get seen off base you have a teeny tiny amount of time to go all hypochondriac on TRICARE.

Link:  I know I'm an idiot, but come on!

I was reminded of all these feelings this past week when I volunteered at the animal shelter and interacted with a cancer-ridden Rottweiler named Sheba.  This is a really rotten situation as I pointed out to my mom with the use of a blunt, formulaic equation:

Black Dog + Full-body Cancer + Aggressive Breed = Certain Death

I know the vets are trying to treat it, but the little girl is only two and it's not like the shelter is swimming in donations.  

I pushed all of this aside, however, and just focused on having the best walk I could based on her energy levels.

She seemed really good.  She took two nuclear-certified poops (from the chemo) and walked 0.5 miles taking in the sunshine.

And that's when I started to recount my own experience.

Simply, I waited three months to be seen only to have the derm extract some worrisome bumps from my face, which meant I had to wait a few more weeks for the results.

The waiting was the worst followed closely by the big black stitches on my upper lip.

Of course I went back to work after the initial procedure (what else was I going to do besides watch more Grey's and write my own eulogy?) and tried to focus on my projects.  Sadly, only my guys and the civilian leads noticed my inability to speak clearly (numbing) and the stitches.  They showed genuine concern and wanted to know how everything worked out.

Then there was tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum.  They had no idea anything was wrong despite the fact that I had to make repeated requests to miss work for these appointments.  After three years in their organization, nothing.

Now I didn't expect them to give me time off to mope around or to show any true concern, but a feigned amount of indifference would've been nice.  I mean I was one of three other officers in the organization at that point.  A simple, "Let us know if you need anything" would've been sufficient.

But I guess that's what happens when you're busy talking about barbecue and your lawn and other douchebaggery.

Whatever.

Oh, and it ended up being a case of overactive sweat glands.  "Grody," the nurse said as she opened my results like we were at the Emmys.

Fine by me, I thought, fine by me.

We Left the Lights On: The *

So I might as well get it over with; the reckoning.

I broached the subject last evening and now just want to be rid of the memory.

I had every intention of labeling this post "The Bully" or "Mean Mister M----" or something similar, but upon further reflection this man does not even merit the time necessary for a witty title.  No, no.  Simply put he is an *.

NOTE:  I am borrowing from Kurt Vonnegut's Breakfast of Champions here with the use of an asterisk to convey the very nature of this man (i.e. he's just an asshole).

Screenshot:  Still makes me laugh; I never did finish this book though...

While I could tell you the stories that surround this man, I'd prefer to take a different approach since (1) you wouldn't believe me anyway and (2) he's not worth the time or effort or energy.

Instead, I'll use a sneaky little trick I learned from a Chief for revealing who is a dirtbag to review boards via a seemingly good performance report.

- Arrogant; thinks he is the best at everything to include public speaking, being an EMT (even though that was 25 years ago), leading, writing, running marathons, woodworking, planning, coordinating, directing, being interesting, preparing for anything, drawing on dry erase boards, PowerPoint, storytelling, single-handedly saving the Pentagon on 9/11, bombing Iraq without being a pilot, etc.
- Sinister; a total snake in the grass!  Watch your back since he's always angling for advancement via tours, presentations, and briefings to the boss
- Self-absorbed; frequently reminds everyone that he could have been a one-star general, but took one for the team and allowed his wife to pursue her dream of teaching as a PhD at the U; additionally, devotes time to attend his two daughters' swimming meets...wouldn't want to sit next to him in the bleachers!!!
- Hated; his pontifications and long sermons are unparalleled; once held senior captains and majors captive for 75-minute lecture on preparing for an inspection and what aircraft maintenance is really about (him, duh)
- Oblivious; perfect AF leader...has no idea how anyone really feels about him and the lack of disrespect they harbor when he is around
- Loathed; should be careful around offsite activities with butter knives since you can't ever trust those depot guys when they've been trapped for hours listening to a know-it-all
- Egotistic; never mind your opinion, this guy has it on lockdown!  Did I mention that he single-handedly saved the country not once, but twice?

All joking aside, what I really wanted to put for E was empty.  I feel sorry for the guy who has to bully a first lieutenant and put down all of his coworkers.  It must be incredibly lonely being so smart and well-educated and successful.

The worst part?  I bet he could be a really great guy if he was willing to stomach a huge piece of humble pie.  I think Jim Collins' was right in Good to Great when he makes the distinction between professional will and personal humility.  There needs to be a balance if you are going to be an effective leader.

I want to end with Tao verse 68, though, since it seems entirely appropriate for the topic at hand:

Photo:  What's a little Tao without some birch trees?!

Photo:  I just hope I never turn out to be like this guy.

Cheers!

Captain Sobel

Before I really start in on blasting the bad leaders I had the opportunity to serve with during the last six years, I want to be the first to admit that I am in no way the ideal leader or even a very good leader-manager.  But I am self-critical and I want to get better and I think that's a pretty good place to start.

When I decided to attend the Air Force Academy I thought I was already a pretty good leader.  Not that a 17-year-old high school punk has any idea what leadership is, but I had always been bossy (just ask my little brother) and I was the president of a couple academic clubs and a team captain since I was a sophomore.  So, yea, I thought I could handle the whole leadership thing at the Academy.

And for the most part I did.  I didn't excel, but I learned that I suck at delegation (still do) and that being real and honest with folks is the best policy.

As graduation approached, however, I was flooded by warnings (both welcome and unwelcome) as to the best approach to being a good maintenance officer.  

Now, this is one of those careers they use to scare you at the Academy.  That and being a cop boss.  Your commanders and instructors say, "Oh, you'll be in charge of 98% of the USAF and you'll have no experience blah blah blah."

I knew they meant this as a good-natured warning and to prevent you from becoming that guy, but all I could think of was Captain Sobel.

Video clip:  What a cadet!

If you are not familiar with Captain Sobel, he is that guy.

He's the guy my dad (a Vietnam Vet) told me not to be.  He would always remind me not to be that West Pointer talking shit or the Grad who knows it all.  And you know what?  Dads are always right.  ALWAYS LISTEN TO YOUR DAD.

More specifically, Captain Sobel was out for himself and tried too hard to follow the textbook.  He was a caricature of leadership.  He would scream and then come up with punishments that made little sense and all while single-handedly destroy morale.  Bottom-line?  He was going to get people killed.  Or the guys were going to kill him (Vietnam).

Even after four years of trying not to be Captain Sobel I still referred to his leadership lessons when I pinned on Captain.  And yes, I was forced to have a promotion party.  I hate that crap.

I was always told that you learn just as much from the bad leaders as you do the good.  Well then let me tell you, I learned a ton.  A TON!

So in conclusion, I am by no means a Lieutenant (to Major) Winters although I wish I was a Nazi-killing badass sometimes.  I doubt I was even entirely effective most of the time.  I just hope I was never a Captain Sobel.