Crooked Rivers

Building off October's post (please pardon the delay), I'd like to explore an idea with you that's best summed up by this quote:

"The path of least resistance is what makes rivers, and men, crooked."




Most of our interpretive focus falls on the meaning of "the path of least resistance". The floor is open to everyone - feel free to comment if you agree with one of the below, or have a better one to suggest. Maybe "the path of least resistance" refers to:

- Being lazy?

- Apathy?

- Taking the "easy way out"?

- Making decisions based on convenience, not morality?

- Lack of goals

- Lack of direction

- Yielding to life's inertia rather than your own will power

- Meandering, not steering

- Being reactive, not proactive?

Remember that game Plinko from The Price is Right?! The Plinko puck might be a pretty good example of following the path of least resistance. After falling carelessly, the puck just ends up in whatever slot ended its random walk. For the sake of discussion, let's pretend the Plinko puck is you, and the various pegs represent life's decisions.

The puck is indifferent to the peg and which direction to fall. Similarly, plenty of people approach decisions with indifference and choose this way or that way based on convenience, ease, and the least conflict or resistance. Why? Well that really is the crux of the issue.

Decisions have alot to do with our principles and what we believe in - our "guiding lights" so to speak. Every day we are put to the test in any variety stimuli: a hitchhiker on the road, lost money, a standed motorist, a begger's outstetched hand, a starving child in a commercial, an uncomfortable situation, time pressure at work, cutting corners, borrowing money, procrastinated responsibilities, half-truths, white lies, deceit, honesty in relationships, a friend in need, a favor asked, an inconvenient long conversation. . .

We've all been there. We're familiar with how our minds quickly weigh the effort and inconvenience against the potential outcomes. Truth be told, it easy to say no when no ones looking. It's easy to be selfish and opportunistic. Our minds are terribly efficient rationalizers: "That hitchhiker might attack me," "If I don't take that money, someone else will," "That stranded motorist probably has a cell phone," "That homeless guy will probably just use my money to buy booze," "There's plenty of help out there for starving kids, especially around Christmas," "I'll just tell him later - now is not the right time". . . Ah, the path of least resistance. It's easy, it's convenient, it's the normal swing of things. You could intervene or get involved, but why take the risk? Why me?


O, how sinister this mindset is.

In matters of style, swim with the current; in matters of principle, stand like a rock. - Thomas Jefferson

Boat without a rudder

A sailboat's course is determined by 1.) direction of the wind relative to the sails - called the tack, and 2.) the rudder - which essentially steers the boat. The sailboat's tack involves gauging the wind, and trimming the sails to the appropriate point of sail. These actions essentially harness and channel the wind's energy to push the boat forward. Trimming the sails and reading the wind is a much lengthier discussion, so in this space, we will discuss the role of the rudder.


As seen below, the rudder is where the "rubber meets to road" (wow, I need a better expression here. . .) Okay here it goes - A rudder is where the "wood meets the water" (much better). The rudder is a submerged, movable surface controlled by the skipper. To steer, the skipper utilizes the tiller which is connects to the rudder and allows the skipper to change the rudder's angle, and thereby the boat's course.


The underside of most sailboats also have a keel which looks like a rudder but much larger. The keel acts as a stabilizer and a massive couterweight to the wind's sail force. The keel weighs roughly 1/2 of the boat's weight. The keel enables the sailboat to keep a steady course and "heel" which is when the boat leans over to one side under wind pressure.

Now that I've bored you with some boat basics, let's get philosophical. For a moment, let's envision a boat to be a person, and a boat's journey to represent life. The water, wind and weather represent life's driving force, inevitable challenges and obstacles. Pretty straight forward, right?


With a little bigger dose of metaphor, we could probably liken a boat's keel to a person's values, morals and beliefs. Like a keel, they seldom change and act as a stabilizer to outside forces and prevent us from swaying too much - they keep us grounded.


. . . Which leads us to the rudder. I ask you, what does the rudder represent in life? Take a brief moment to think about your answer. . . it could represent a lot of things:

- Goals?

- Dreams?

- Decisions?

- Inspiration?

- Talents?

- Skills?

- Discipline?

- Habits?

Asked another way, if a life was missing it's metaphorical rudder, what would it be missing? What steers YOU?!

Stop reading and start thinking: What steers YOU?! What's your rudder? What allows you to navigate the waters of life successfully? MANY people don't have a good answer to this question. The reason? Read on. . .

From the above bullet-pointed list, the ones most representative of a rudder are:

- Decisions

- Discipline

- Habits

Why? Sailing requires constant attention to the tiller and rudder. The winds and waters are in constant flux, so the skipper has to constantly monitor the rudder while steering the boat. In this light, the rudder is very similar to our decisions day-in and day-out. These small decisions over time add up to a larger impact on our life journey.

Decisions are cognitive choices we make. Discipline is self-controlled behavior. Habits combine the two to establish a pattern through repetition.

*N.B. If you haven't already read Covery's The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People buy it and read it this month - you'll never look back.*

Good habits steer boats - and lives - to the best destination.

Interesting tidbit - numerous psychological and behavioral studies have shown that it takes 21 days to make a habit. Meaning, it takes 21 days of repetitious behaviour to establish a reliable pattern. We humans are a fickle bunch!

A life without habits is a boat without a rudder. Establish effective habits today and set sail towards the life you deserve.

Hawaii - Part II

So here's where things started to get kinda crazy:

Day 4 (nighttime) - it's Saturday night, and we've been drinking all day. Against our better judgement, K and I decided to venture out for a night on the town. First stop was the hotel veranda for a warm up act. After meeting two fine young ladies (to be continued) we headed to The Yardhouse for more drinks and (as a necessity) some damn food. We got ambushed by a bachelorette party and stickered with name tags - Fuckable Foreigner (K. Wizzle) and Tasty Tourist (yours truly). The theme of the bachelorette party was naughty teacher (pinch me). After our rendezvous we headed toThe Shack, then Mad Dog saloon where we (narrowly) avoided a fight and partook in copious shot-taking (Jaeger). . . at this point we're digging our own ditches and asking for trouble. Upon closing time we were taken by Russian girls to an after hours club named Black Jack. If this place was a math equation, it would look like this:

Black Jack = strippers + Vegas + sketchy locals + cheap booze -(our money + our camera)

At this point K. Wizzle is seeing double, maybe quadruple. He takes himself outside and decides to take a nap on a curb in a dark alley (and later hotel floor). Meanwhile, yours truly hops in a cab with the Russian girls and heads for God-knows-where. They order the cab driver (in Russian) to pull over near the beach, sprint out of the car, and begin undressing for an hour-long skinny dipping session (pinch me). With estrogen clouding the airwaves I obliged (manly disclaimer: Hawaii is warm, but not that warm after an hour in the ocean).

Day 5 - More pool & beach. Sunset dinner at Duke's. The bartender, Jesse, has 12 years of experience and might have been the best bartender ever - he was essentially reading our minds. I took a picture with a large Hawaiian man, and K. Wizzle stole 150 rubles from some Russian girls on accident (it's only like $8, so don't worry :).

Day 6 - Pool and beach, Asian girls, a strip club (to try and find the evasive lost camera), more girls, tall cans, scootering, wine and sunset, Polish girls, more wine.

Day 7 - (the one I've been waiting to share because this will go down as the best Tuesday in our lives!) The day started of with a scooter ride to Hanauma Bay for snorkeling. Then (here's where is gets good) we schedule and impromptu skydiving excursion on the North Shore. The skydiving place picks you up right from your hotel. I wasn't quite sure what to expect, but this place is the gold standard for skydiving (best value, excellent staff, stunning aerials, etc.). The exciting part was K. Wizzle had never jumped before! We jumped in the van and treaded onward. "We just have to make a quick stop and pick up two more people," said the van driver. Whatever. We pull up to a hotel and lo and behold we see the same two Russian girls we hooked up with on our first night in Hawaii (talk about a small island!).

That night we celebrated our skydiving victory at Moose's with drinks a plenty. After several Bud Lights and some foosball we started scoping out the scenery at Moose's. K. Wizzle radared into to two sweethearts from Chicago - Amy and Melissa. We headed back to our hotel, ordered champagne at 2am, and had a late-night guitar session to boot! (these girls could sing everything - country, rock, you-name-it). K. took down a full length, and I stick to the MD/HJ side of things.

This night sounded the final notes of an eight day crescendo of laughs, new experiences, unforgettable memories, and the best of friends.

Catching up on Hawaii

Please forgive the belated post - K. Wizzle and I really have been in a whirlwind of activity since arriving in Hawaii on Wednesday, and we apologize to the delay. To keep things simple, and readable, I'm really just going to break this post down into days with a brief (hopefully entertaining) recap of what's going on. Long vacations, as you know, don't come around very often so we appreciate your involvement as things progress - it really is nice to be able to share with friends!

Day 1 - Impromptu ride to the airport from Alex (*cute) at 6am ~ $5. Board shorts, guitar, sandals, sunscreen ~ $60. Ordering 16 drinks on Aloha Airlines ~ 70. Arriving safely in Waikiki before lunch time ~ priceless. Cheesy credit card satires aside, we really did drink more on the plane than anyone. . . ever. Upon arrival, we stumbled to the baggage claim and then hailed a cab. As a pleasant surprise, it turns out the Moana Surfrider Hotel is stunning - it is the most established hotel on the island, and beautiful in every respect. An ancient banyan tree shades the beachfront veranda as the pool and beach umbrellas bask in sunshine. We quickly accomplished basic tasks: rented scooters (negotiated price down), purchased new board shorts, sunglasses and set up the speakers in our hotel. After dinner at Nobu (*recommended, Robert DeNiro is part owner), we meandered to Level 4 (the primary club in Waikiki). We squeezed our way in wearing sandals (somehow. despite the stringent dresscode,) and ordered a bottle of Grey Goose/VIP table. After meeting two Russian girls and drinking a baker's dozen of Redbull vodkas, we journeyed home with our company to put the night to rest (which turned out to be a scandolous 5am - yikes). Cheers to Russian girls, and Waikiki. PS - since we couldn't finish the bottle, we managed to smuggle it out in our pants (phallic, indeed) - not the most classy move, but who wants to waste vodka? After all, we were with Russians.

Day 2 - Pool, sunshine, jammers, cocktails, girls' phone numbers, more jammers. That's a pretty good recap of the day, but I will admit we passed out at 6pm and woke up at 7am due to the previous night's festivities.

Day 3 - A standout day by all accounts: First, we woke up early for an intense 7am workout (K. Wizzle really toughed it out). Justin, who we meet the day before and saw in the gym, invited us to try stand-up paddle board with him and his family (wife, two kids - Logan & Sawyer). Stand-up paddle boarding (think large surfboard with an oar) proved challenging. After jostling with the ocean swells, gravity, the wind, and our own ineptitude, we somehow managed to stand up and paddle like like a pro (many thanks to Justin's coaching). Rest of the day: 4-hour scooter adventure to Diamond Head (wow), booze cruise on the "Na Hoku" catamaran sailboat, Duke's Bar & Grill, cute girls on a pit stop from Bali/Figi, hanging out Chris from ICM (Jay Leno's agent) , dinner at Tiki's with Kyra, 6 shooter's with Mike (his 21st birthday), kicked out of two Waikiki bars within ten minutes (Moose's and O'Neill's), bottle service (again) at Level 4. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . shenanigans. More shenanigans. Chalk it up.

Day 4 - gourmet brunch at the Hyatt overlooking the beach. One of the things I like best about K. Wizzle is his genuinely kind heart. If there's one person I enjoy talking with more, it's K. He has this unprecedented knack for listening, offereing input, responding and helping - a quality one recognizes is only the best of friends. Great food aside (filet, mushroom omelette, etc), our discussion was memorable. Brunch was followed by today's beach day. In short, we met more Russians (Anna, Natasha, Sasha, and Katya), drummed up beach cocktails (against the rules, but who really cares?), connected with Aussies (Emma & Cassie - best accent ever), played water football, and relaxed in the sun.

Funny stuff: We have an imaginary vacation butler named Chatwick. He does whatever we tell him to do, and he's more than happy to do it. For example, K. Wizzle and I were laying in scortching hot sun on Day 2. We whisper, "Chatwick. . . . cloud." Chatwick then (somehow) obtains a large mest cardboard cutout of a giant cloud and holds it out to eclipse the blazing sun. Chatwick also helps with pickup lines. If we say, "Chatwick. . . girls" he proceeds to the nearest group of cute girls and delivers the funniest and most engaging pick up line ever. We don't know how he does it, but he does. . . and he's more than happy to help. It's all worthwhile to Chatwick because we eventually compensate him in crackers. That might seem strange to readers, but Chatwick really does enjoy (and appreciate) good cracker. Tomorrow, we plan to utter "Chatwick. . . upgrade" at which point he'll swiftly compile all our belongings and move them to our Penthouse suite (did I mention it has a jacuzzi on the balcony?).

Other funny stuff: "That's your boyfriend? Oh, I thought it was your kid brother." (Kurt's line). In Hawaii you will eventually encounter a fat guy wearing a speedo crossing his legs. Similar to a car wreck, you must avoid looking or possible suffer spraining an eye. On the rare occassion the speedo in question has a giant sabre-tooth white tiger on the ass, please call hotel security. Some hotels have unattractive pidgeons. Not sure why I wrote that, but it seems arbitrary enough to stick. Couples, while in Hawaii, undoubtedly engage in hours (if not more) of missionary coitus. Some relish the missionary position so much they actually do it. . . drumroll. . . in a mission. On another note, we saw a hilarious toddler wearing swim trunks. Except his swim trunks were swim pants. Pictures to come.

Closing funny stuff: One way to pay for things while on vacation is credit card roullette. Essentially, the vendor in question takes the participants credit cards, shuffles them around (in a bag, pocket or otherwise) and picks a single card. The cardowner is then responsible for paying. This game is fun - very fun. It's gambling, but with everyday purchases. We initially planned on playing CC roullette for small purchases over $100. But now we play it wiht everything. Why is this funny? L. Dizzle (yours truly) managed to lose the first seven times in a row. This included multiple ABC Store purchases, bar tabs and a $180 dinner at Nobu. The count has since corrected, and is now 11 to six.

Stay tuned for the next posting, and thank you all for your thoughts, emails and calls - we miss you all very much!

"Happy as a Clam"?

Random thought of the day - What's with the expression "Happy as a clam"? Really? For years now (okay months) I've struggled to grasp the meaning behind this old saying. Full disclosure: I have nothing against clams - they're actually quite wonderful for a variety of reasons. However, I don't see how a clam has any reason to be "happy".

Did you know in October of '07 someone found a clam off the coast of Iceland that was discovered to be at least 405 years old? It was declared the world's oldest living animal! Even the mythical giant clams live for 100+ years. Maybe "Old as a clam" or "Wise as a clam" make more sense. Longevity has it's perks, but over the course of a century (or more), how much can that clam really experience? It's not like they travel, or meet other mollusks, or come up for air. It seems more like a interminable life sentence in solitary confinement - hardly the "happy" clam we've all envisioned.

I will admit I've encountered several clams that had a slightly curved mantle resembling a smile. But I couldn't help feeling sorry for the mollusk, pinned to a rock, getting sloshed by briny sea water for hundreds of years. We all know a smile is only skin (or shell) deep, so I'm hesitant to endorse an ancient expression based solely on a curve. Dolphins also seem to be smiling - are they happy too? Yes! They're beautiful, active and adventurous. . . and not pinned to a rock. "Happy as a dolphin" I say!

At the end of the day, the fate of "Happy as a clam" is undecided. Whether or not a clam is truly happy might be ancillary to the fact the saying gets the point across. When someone says, "He's happy as a clam," we all understand the intention. But here at Unhindered Thought, we try and shed a bit of light on things not often lighted. . .

Maiden Voyage

Similar to the champagne bottle's sudsy smash into the side of the Titanic, this inaugural post starts a voyage of two friends: K. Wizzle and L. Dizzle. Also like the Titanic, the voyage will be memorable, large, and unprecedented. The one difference is this voyage will not be doomed or meet catastrophe, but travel in unhindered perpetuity and adventure. All aboard. . . here's to us!