Welcome to the migrated site, Monkey Keys! You’ll probably note it looks very similar to the old site. This was intentionally done because I am lazy. I plan on making some big updates to the layout in order to stay extra super competitive, but I’ll worry about that when my motivation goes from super to super duper (Sargent Savage GI Joe style).
I could start gushing about how awesome it is to have my own domain and whatnot, but who cares. Instead, I want to focus on my near total inability to do one step in any random activity. This step I have lovingly named the “cinchpin” step.
Most any undertaking has a series of steps to get it done. For instance, making a new LEGO King’s Castle Siege (set 7094) generally involves:
1) Finding a sharp object to cut the invulnerable, Kevlar and titanium laced bags the pieces come in.
2) Dumping everything into an indiscernible pile on the carpet.
3) Finding all the parts to the castle guards and the dragons and building them first.
4) Play “whoops, I sporked the dragon” with the brave knight guy wielding the proportionately improbable, one-handed battle axe for three hours.
5) Give up on building the set and leave the pieces unfortunately close to the bottom of the stairs so your mother can step in them and fully understand the meaning of LEGO’s acronym “Lethal Edged Gouging Object.”
Now, you’re probably thinking the same thing I am. These are some pretty simple steps. Why would you go an omit one?
Well, therein lies the glory of the cinchpin step. This step is generally found very early on in the order of operations, is surprisingly easy to accomplish, and is quite necessary to finish the activity. However, it also almost always requires moving physically or undoing a step that is already finished. In my above example, the cinchpin is finding the sharp object. Invariably, if given the task to build the LEGO, I would sit down with my box and remove the individual bags of pieces. At this point I would be sitting down, and thus, my butt is committed. The knives are normally in the kitchen, and that is nearly ten feet away. That’s where my brain thinks the fatal thought, “Do I really need a knife to open these bags? Isn’t that what teeth, nails and screaming are for?”
So I attempt to open the bags. I don’t, of course, because those things are absurd. I think they’re chemically altered to survive the lethal edges of the pieces contained within. After about 20 minutes of tooth decay on the side of the bags, I suddenly feel stupid for not having just gotten the knife. It would have taken one of those 20 minutes, and then I would be done in a heartbeat. Generally this realization does nothing but aggravate the problem. In realizing my wasted time, I suddenly have to prove my method can, and will, work. This leads to several chipped teeth, claw-marks in the wall, and a blacklisting for all future LEGO products.
Just yesterday I experienced two such cinchpin situations. One was just prior to my beddy-bye. I wanted to put my iPod on sleep mode and listen to some lullabies. However, I had already turned the light off and could not actually see the iPod dock. Cinchpin step one would have been to drag myself out of bed and shed some light on the situation. Dylan step one ended up being a mad fumble in the dark with the iPod for the little raised docking node. I managed to nearly knock over a lamp and scratch my hand significantly on the bed-stand before getting the thing docked two minutes later.
Then while moving this very blog I had another cinchpin moment. One step required ftp-ing a bunch of wordpress files to my server. Instead of taking the two seconds to install an ftp service and properly configure it with my hosting provider, I decided to upload every file individually. “How many can there possibly be?” thought I. Apparently a lot.
So why leave the cinchpin out? I think it has something to do with our preconceived notion of what a task requires. At a certain point, we believe all our ducks are in a row and it is time to start. When something requires extra effort that wasn’t counted on, and we think that extra effort isn’t needed, the step is omitted. The longer it is omitted, the more we’re committed to the initial plan.
I’d like to say I plan on doing my cinchpins from now on, but honestly, now that I’ve named them, I’m more annoyed than ever at the things. I mean, who are they to dictate weather or not I can build my freaking LEGO? Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some wasp nests to remove of.
Reading through two in one day, look at me go. My goodness my counselingness wants to go all analyst on you. Well I shall refrain, my exs all hate when I do that! haha! buuuut seriously! Well you know I have always been your biggest cheerleader for your writing. I’m proud of you for getting a site!