Today is day two of WordCamp Portland 2011.  This year’s event is not as stellar as the last two years, but I am always happy to get around the other WP developers and hear tips and tricks others are using.

This past year, my business (like my waist) has seen a BIG expansion.  OK, my waist hasn’t really expanded, but I love to make fat jokes about myself!

BRIDGES Networking, the business relationships organization I helped start, has added three new clubs this year (Portland, Tigard and Sandy).  Lake Oswego looks like the next destination for this highly effective business networking organization.

Kay and I have faired well this year.  Sales this past summer were three times better than last year and the web-side of our business is dominating the business model.  At this point we are phasing out marketing of tradeshow exhibits.  We’ll keep carrying displays, but only for existing customers.

While the year is not over yet, I am really excited about how business and life is shaping up for the last four months of this year.

Today, ten year’s later, America still stands on guard and while the rainbow colors are missing, we are once again told by authorities of pending doom.  ”Credible Threat” is the term-dejure now, but we all know it means those who hate us continue to want to kill our way of life.  Never mind the idea that we elected a leader that touted his skill to change the views of America in the eyes of our enemies, I never believed a US President could hold much sway over religious loons.

While I do not fear the terrorists, I fear the media is focusing our attention in the wrong direction.  Today’s threat is for New York or D.C.  While I’m sure the terrorists would love to strike durring the memorials taking place this weekend, it is my believe that terrorists are much smarter than we give them credit.

Military leaders throughout history have written of battle strategies and I’m sure these wacko terrorists can read.  Strike your opponent where they don’t expect and you’ll score a moral victory.  Tomorrow, while the peaceful world focuses on the memorials back East, I’ll keep my attention out west.  It is my belief the terrorists are more likely to strike Seattle, Portland, San Francisco or LA.  While I doubt any such attack would not sting as much ten years later, the moral victory for the Islamic Extremists would be big.

Tomorrow we should all memorialize the lives of those Americans who were murdered ten years ago; but we should also keep a watchful eye in our own backyard.

God Bless America!

Those of you who know me know that I love Nascar.  My favorite drivers are Dale Earnhart Jr and Tony Stewart.

Go Guys!

In a recent Dallas News article, the economic woes we all face is expected to hit Nascar hard.  High ticket prices, sponsor cut backs and jobless fans are all expected to take a big chunk of Nascars business.

This season begins my 30th year of following Nascar.  While some years have been from a far via news and internet, most years I catch at lease ten races on TV.  My favorite races are Daytona, Talladega and Bristol.

Ed Bejarana

Ordinarily the rain in Oregon is a constant drizzle during the winter months, but this year we are getting large wind gusts mixed with rain drops the size of quarters.  I might be exaggerating on the rain drop size.  So far we have not had any problems with excessive rain where we live.  There is flooding in several locations around Portland, but Fairview, so far, is able to manage the rain.  I have not driven over to see the Sandy River, but so far it seems her banks are holding.

Yesterday I drove into Portland to meet with a new client to discuss a trade show display.  The Willamette River was very high, maybe 10′ above the usual water level, but the banks were holding.  The water was muddy the surface and choppy, like a big dirty kid was sloshing around in a gigantic tub.

On the way home from my meeting, I heard that parts of I5 were expected to flood in the Seattle area.  The report said one of the rivers was expecting waters 10 feet above flood stage.  Again the questions arise.  What exactly is flood stage:

Definition per someone from Wikipedia.

Flood stage means a man made feature is underwater. The term refers to the general condition in which a water level is high enough to cause flooding or water damage to man made elements near a body of water. It applies only to a highly localized point, and not to any standard reference point such as the height of a riverbank, and does not refer to the height above the normal level of a body of water.

The term often confuses the public because it is misunderstood and misused in number of ways. It is often confused with the term “flood gage” which measures the actual height of water above the normal non-flood high point of a body of water, which may not cause any damage or flooding to man made features.

I picture two news reporters standing on the banks of the river making bets on how deep there “flood” stick is now.  Of course there is probably electronic equipment that makes the calculation, but considering how often the news reporters are wrong my vision could be right.

I hope everyone is staying warm and dry!

Ed Bejarana
BusinessBlogging.net
a division of Zenith Exhibits, Inc.

Pre-Snow (Easter Time Actually)

Day one had a slight dusting and a hard freeze.

Day 1

It rained on day two and the pond thawed.

Day 2

On day three we got more snow and a harder freeze

Day 3

Since I was getting cabin fever, I decided to build a snowman.  Having a nice sheet of ice on the pond gave me an idea.  Problem was the snow is VERY dry.  I have to add water to get the snow to stick.

Day 4

I worked on the front yard on day 5, so no picture of the back yard.  But here is a picture of a blur hering sitting on the fence, looking for a snack.

Blue Hering looking for food

Day 6

The morning of day six found my pond surface almost thawed and Mr. snowman leaning over.  Two hours later!  MORE SNOW!

Tonight is Christmas Eve service.  Our pastor (T.J.) really wants the service to go foorward.  Actually, so do I, I haven’t played a Christmas Eve service in 25 years!  Lets all pray for clear streets.

Stay warm.

Ed & Kay Bejarana

Merry Christmas

There were several other Percussionist who were starting classes with me, but I knew I was the best of the bunch.  I remember talking to my mom over the phone and bragging that I would test out of the school and head off to the premier band in DC.  Words I would later eat.

To qualify for the band, a musician must pass three auditions.  The first is before you enlist, the second when you first arrive at the school of music and the last is your final exam.  Students have only a single chance for the first and third audition, but fortunately, we had two chances for the second.  Fail the second or third and the Army sends you anywhere it needs a body.  Three of my friends failed the second test, one went to tank school, one to the infantry and another became a helicopter mechanic.  I did not fear the reaper because I was invincible.

Test day came and I entered the audition room.  The test involved playing the snare, the marimba and the drum set.  I wasn’t a very good drum set player, so I knew I would fail that portion of the test, but I would ace the other two; besides I was going to become the next marimba soloist in the DC Band, not a drum set player.

Two instructors were administering the audition (don’t remember their names).  She was also a marimba player, a VERY good player at that.  We had played some duets over the previous two weeks and became good friends.  He was a drum set officianto.  I was very impressed by how well he played the drum set.  He even had pictures with him and Billy Cobam (a famous drummer).

“Which instrument would you like to start with?”  She asked.

I figured first impressions are the best impressions, “Marimba.”

He said, “Ok, please play a C major scale.”

I did.

He asked, “Please play that two octaves.”

I did.

She said, “Great, lets move to drum set.”

My heart skipped a beat.  “Don’t you want to hear more Marimba?”

“No,” she replied.  “We know you can play the mallet instruments.”

By the time we finished the drum set debacle, I was so rattled that I didn’t even do all that well on the snare.  I had failed my second audition.  They told me I had two weeks to get ready for my second, and last try.

I was heart broken.  How could I learn how to play drum set and pass a professional audition in two weeks?  Plus school was starting, so I only had the evenings to practice.

The first couple of days were a blur as I sat in the practice rooms trying to get a grove.  Down the hall I could hear Private Webb playing.  Webb was an amazing drum set player from North Carolina.  He had been playing drum set his entire life and it showed.

The drumming stopped and I heard a knock on my door, it was Webb.

“Hey Bejarana, I hear you didn’t pass.”

“Nope.”

“They told me I have to play a Marimba solo at my third audition or they will make me retake the school.  Can you help me?”  “I’ll teach you to play the drum set, you teach me how to play this solo.”

Webb knew my time constraints and started helping right away, even before I agreed to his proposition.  Webb asked me to play a straight 4 beat.  Then he said play something in a 3 beat.  After I played, he pulled out his note book a scratched out some rhythms.  He wrote notes on the bottom line that represented the bass drum part, had “x’s” on the top line to represent hitting the hi-hat, notes in the third space for the snare and slashes on the second and third line and second space for the tom-toms.  Above the staff he wrote an R with a stem for the right side crash and an L with a stem for the left side crash.  He said, “leave out the ride cymbal for now.”

Webb had me get up and he sat down and played each of the rhythms he had written out.  Then gave me a few tips on how to better hold my sticks and made a few adjustments to the set height.  He then told me to practice these beats.

Classes would let out around 3pm, I would grab a quick bite to eat then hit the practice room until midnight.  At 5am I would wake, shower, shave and head back to the practice room until roll call at 7:30.  Breakfast at 8:30, first class at 9:15 and so went the rest of my day.

By Friday I was playing basic rhythms, adding basic fills, and keeping the beat; but I needed a breakout rhythm, something that was challenging but showed off my abilities to learn quickly.  Webb played a Latin beat called a Mozambique.  After watching Webb play it for about ten minutes while I took dictation, scribbling out every beat, I hit the practice room and for the next three days did nothing but the Mozambique.

Audition day part two arrived and it felt like the entire school was pulling for me.  Two weeks of 19 hour days become the talk of the school.  My instructors even took notice and some gave me extra time in the practice room.  My ear training professor showed the greatest level of mercy and allowed me to spend two full class sessions practicing.

Same two instructors giving the audition but this time I needed only play the drum set.  No questions were in my mind as to what I would be playing.  The one instructor had even given me a preview of the song I would be playing.  The instructors named off three different rhythms for me to play, a straight rock 4 pattern, a Bosa Nova and a 6/8 funk.  I performed all three to their level of satisfaction.  Then came the instrumental track.  I needed to sight read a chart against a song that had the drum track removed.  I didn’t do it perfect and the male instructor highlighted a couple areas that needed improvement.  Then came the solo.

To say the rest of my life as a musician began the moment I successfully played a Mozambique would be an understatement.  When I finished played the cheers of my friends listening through the door was all the recognition I needed to know I would have a third audition in six months.

Private Webb and about a dozen other friends were waiting outside the door.  I had passed the audition, but more importantly I learned a valuable life lesson.  Sometimes arrogance and confidence can be confused, the way you can tell them apart is:

• arrogance keeps you from self improvement.
• confidence is the strength to succeed.

Ed Bejarana

Last week I was helping a customer who was exhibiting at the Dew action Sports Tour, and being the BMX enthusiast, I took in a few of the events.  First off, it seems the tour is a BIG hit among 11 and 12 year old boys and girls.  Just mention the name of Ryan Sheckler and the girls in your vicinity scream like Ryan was one of the band members of the Beetles.

At the Dew event, every one was running from one place to another, hardly taking any time to talk with the exhibitors or even each other.  Heck, when Cameron did his 360 Back flip, I called my wife to talk about it, I patted the back of the strangers sitting next to me.  Excitement was in the air and I had to talk to witnesses as if to try and experience it again through there eyes.  Of course, my wife’s response was the normal response, “that’s nice.”

I wrote about leaving room for the big stuff.  The sands of life will fill in every nook and cranny if you let it, so you’ve got to put those big, important things in place before the space (and time) is eaten by the big hairy life monster.

In the spirit of “adding the big stuff first”, last Wednesday I told my wife, while she was in the haze of morning, “we are going to the movies today.”

She asked, “don’t you have work to do today?”

“Yes, but I want to spend time with you”, I responded.

The movie was silly, Tropic Thunder, but the moments together during the middle of a work day were priceless.  Take that Visa!

We all have VERY busy schedules.  The kids are starting back to school, the economy is doing strange things and making consumers a bit uneasy.  Our political system seems to be taking over the television networks and everyone in the country is worried their political believes might offend someone. These are times when it is easy to put off planning something memorable.  It is safer to NOT go to the coast this weekend because the kids are starting school.  Wrong!  It is never safer to withdraw from being with your family, alone, on a mini vacation.

The hardest part of getting away is planning.  Men, we really suck at sitting down and planning with our wives.  Knowing this is more than half the battle.  Take time, sit you wife down (maybe to a nice dinner out) and say, “I want to go camping.”  Be prepared for objections and don’t settle on “not now.”  Set a date, even if it is a month or two out, setting a date for taking a mini vacation gets the family time juices flowing and before long everyone will be focused more on the trip and less on the daily stresses of life.

Ed Bejarana

My dad loved to fish, me I like the idea of actually catching something. While I know my dad liked to catch fish, I believe he was just as content to sit on the shore and watch the line bob in the water. I was a hyperactive kid and couldn’t sit still, so fishing with my dad was like having cavities filled without anything to dull the pain. I stopped going fishing with my dad when I was about 11.

I came close to going fishing with my best friend Joe Hammers about ten years ago, but Joe died from a heart attack at the age of 52.

All in all, my fishing buddies don’t seem to fair too well. I hope its’ not me?

Yesterday I went fishing with Ken Bear Cole, a friend of mine from the East Portland Chamber of Commerce. While I shared the story with Ken and the other customers on Ken’s boat about me and my dad fishing, I didn’t share my raw emotions on the subject. Since I am a glutton for public scrutiny, I write these words for you with the hopes that you will gain a life lesson from me.

Fishing is a guy thing, but I know women like it too, I’m not trying to be sexist. Not sure what it is about fishing and guys, but total strangers can come together on a boat and put a fishing pole on our hands and we become instant friends. It might be the fishing stories, it might be the peaceful scenery, or it might be the idea of man versus nature. Long gone are the days where men had to catch or kill something to feed the family, but the instinct still lives within each of us and yesterday natural instinct showed up after being suppressed for 29+ years.

Ken did most all of the work, all I did was show up, dry off a seat and hold a pole. Ken prepared the pole, baited the hook and reminded me how to hold the darn thing. Then Ken steered the boat and catered to our frequent fishing catching needs. There were five of us, counting bear, in the boat yesterday and before we knew it we had 29 fish in the live wells. Four of them just had to be put back to keep our 5 fish limit. This isn’t counting the number of fish we hauled up to the boat but who were able to cough up the hook. I even hooked one in the fin, but he had to be set free because the catch wasn’t fair.

The morning started with a slight drizzle and an eerie mist on the North Form Lake in the foot hills of Mt Hood Oregon. Bear backed his boat down the boat launch and I chatted with a couple other guys who were going fishing with us.

Ken promised us we would go home with some fish and told about the trip he had on Sunday. We were curious if Bear had made arrangements with Fred Meyers just in case the fishing gods were against us? We even joked that maybe he had the “Bear” special at the local fish market.

Chuck was Tim’s father-in-law, Tim was taking Chuck on a special fishing trip. Ken came highly recommended through a friend of a friend. Dan has been a long time guest on Bear’s boat. Dan is leaving for Utah where he will continue his battle against lung cancer.

Tim was the first to hook a beautiful 12″ rainbow trout, followed by Chuck. For a little while it seemed like the back of the boat (where Tim and chuck were sitting) was a better fishing spot, but it didn’t take to long before my line started to bob. Several hard nibbles and failed attempts to set the hook and I had to re bait (ok, Ken had to re bait my hook).

It isn’t that I was squeamish around night crawlers, it was that my fingernails wasn’t long enough to break the worm in to little parts. Ken had perfect nails for the task and he seemed to take great pleasure in snapping the worm body and jamming a hook through the critter. Not a very good deal for the worm!

Ken had a challenge. He said that it was custom for the first guy to catch a fish to kiss it. In exchange for living up to this tradition, Ken promised to eat a worm. The video below is proof the Ken will go above and beyond the call of sanity!

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/v/5t_1hGxL-1g]

It didn’t take too long before my hook started to set and I was reeling in dinner! Fortunately I wasn’t first, because while I like sushi, kissing a life fish wasn’t my idea of fun! No sooner did I get my line back in the water and BANG, another fish. A few minutes later, BANG, another fish. Poor Dan was starting to feel left out. Tim, Chuck and I had already pulled ten fish into the boat and he hadn’t caught anything yet. Then, of course, almost as if on cue, BANG. Dan started reeling in a BIG one! The pole with 6 lbs test was stretched to the limit, but with bear hanging over edge with net in hand, Dan was able to negotiate the biggest catch of the day into the boat. Dan caught an entire rod and reel. No fish, but Dan left with a new fishing pole.

Dan pulled a few more interesting things out of the water before there was a fish on his hook. Once Dan got going with fish, he too was pulling them in left and right.

Poor Ken was working up quite a sweat keeping up with us four catching fish, but with the exception of a few misses in the net, Bear was picture perfect.

Chuck won the award for the funny catch of the day, here he is showing off his prize hook!

We all got a great laugh from this catch and was curious if we left it on the line if it could become bait for an even larger fish? Instead, with hook out of mouth, the little guy was thrown back into the water to go tell his tale to his friends. Can you image the story?

“I was just swimmin’ along having some lunch when I felt this strange pulling sensation. I was being drawn towards the light and when I got there god held me up and said “it is not your time.”

Thank you Bear for a great day! If any of you are looking for a good time, Call Bear or visit FishingWithBear.com.

Ed Bejarana

Several of my friends are complaining about there age is showing in the aches and pains each morning. I too have body aches, but I start each morning with a dip in the hot tub.

While my day usually starts with a mental inventory of ALL the things I MUST do before close of business, I always fight through the urge to immediately sit down at the computer.  Instead I take time each morning to tend to my dogs (Java and Bari).  I feed them, give them water, take them outside for their morning constitution and then I brush them each for a couple minutes.  Then we just stare at one another and greet our days (I do most all the talking).

Next I make myself a cup of coffee…ok I lied, I make the coffee first then tend to the dogs.  But my focus is on the dogs!

After my doggie cuddle time I turn on the computer and head for the shower to prepare for my morning dip in the hot tub.

The boys follow me outside and if it isn’t raining too hard, they get more pets while dad soaks away the morning stresses.  If it is raining, dad doesn’t stay in the tub too long!

My wife usually stays in bed for several more hours, so I get a good deal of quite time right away in the morning.  With dogs in tow, coffee in hand and a list of tasks I prepared the night before, I sit down at my computer and get started.

OK, so why am I sharing this drudgery with you?  What POSSIBLE purpose can it serve?  This is my life lesson I learned back in college.

In a communications class I took my Freshman year we had a guest speaker who was going to tell us about time management.  I was an older student, having spent three years in the Army, so I was one of the few that didn’t roll his eyes at this news.

The time management expert was dressed business casual smart with a button up shirt and lose fitting slacks.  He carried with him a box that measured about 12″ long by 8″ deep by 8″ wide.  He sat it on the counter and slowly, but with purpose, sorted his things.  The professor just observed from the side of the room with his arms crossed.

The man pulled out an empty jar.  It was about 3″ in diameter and maybe 6 or 7″ tall.  It looks like one of my moms BIG pruning jars she had filled with cherries!  She had dozens of those jars.  I hate canned cherries to this day.

The casual man spoke.  Holding up the jar, he said here is life.  He swung the jar from side to side (slowly) as if he were a magician showing his audience that there was no rabbit in the hat.  Duh!  It’s clear, we see that it is empty.

“Here is where you are in your life.”  He proceeded to add a few small rocks and pebbles.

“Each day of your life you will add contents to your jar”, he said.  While talking he added some bigger rocks and pebbles.  “You have big things and you have little things”.  He continued with the demo and before long the jar was full of rocks.

He held up the jar to the class and said, “are we done?  Is our life full?”  Most of the class nodded.  Then he pulled out another jar that had pea size pebbles and proceeded to pour them into the jar.

“Full yet?”

A few light bulbs seems to have lit in the minds of some in the room.  I was still searching for the moral of the story.  Many heads nodded.  The glass did look full now.

The man produced another jar, this time with sand.  He poured the sand into the jar and filled in all the tiny spaces.  The room breathed together.

“Full?  Keep in mind, this is your life.  At this point can you die knowing that you have completed all those items on your life check list?”

Most of the room, including me, shock our heads yes.  My mind wandered a little, why wasn’t anyone, including myself, answering verbally?

The man pulled out yet another bottle, this time with water.  He proceeded to completely fill the jar.  It now had rocks and pebbles and sand and water.  There was NO WAY he could cram anything else into that jar.

He paused, set the jar on the counter and looked around the room.  My light bulb must have been brighter at that moment, because he fix his stare on me and the rest of the room noticed.  I remember thinking, this is like walking into church late.

The man asked, “full?”

“yes”, I replied.

“What’s the moral of this demonstration?”

I thought for a moment, in part because I was nervous that every was looking at me.  I was 22 and a few years old than the rest of the students, but dam!

I said, “leave room for the big stuff.”

The man smiled.  The professor smiled.  Some girl on the other side of the class shouted, “what did he say?”

The man replied, “leave room for the big stuff.”

The man left his box and jar collection and walked out of the room.  We all watched with horror!  What just happened?

The rest of the class isn’t important, except to say that the whole event was staged by the professor who after the dramatic departure said, “that happens everytime.  What I don’t understand is how he knows who to ask.”

We often fill our days with the little things and let them control our life.  We know in the back of our minds that the big things are looming and must have our attention, but we are consumed by errands, chores, business tasks, and other “important” life distractions.  The bigs things are family and friends, hobbies and personal interests, and our health.

Always start your day with the big rocks, the sand and water of life will fill-in the gaps as needed.

Ed Bejarana