The one course in public speaking that I took, taught that starting with a funny story sometimes works.
Did you hear the one about the young monk, very early in his chosen profession. He was assigned the duty of writing the scriptures in long hand. After months of this, he was discussing his job with his ÔsupervisorÕ and he asked about the original script that the copies, that he copied, were made from. The elder monk told him that the originals were indeed available but, stored and handled as priceless treasures. He then asked if anyone had ever checked the working copies for errors and was assured that no mistakes were made.
A few days later, as he started work, he heard a sobbing noise from the next room. When he went to check, he found the elder monk staring at a clay tablet, holding his head in his hands. Etched into the clay and covered with tears, under the heading of ÔInstructions on Sexual BehaviourÕ, was the word celebrate. Today I felt a little like the elder monk who learned too late.
Last year, during a week of fun and hard work, I spoke with Robert Croft for the second time in thirty years and the memories came flooding back. If you missed the Pacific Cup, let me refresh your memory. The first man to dive to 200 feet under his own power. After talking with him a few minutes, at a show, in the early 70Õs, I dreamed of copying his feat. Not one of my diving buddies wanted to explore this game.
Today, under MattÕs watchful eye, my thirty year old dream came true.
Aloha
Bill
P.S. 64 is my age by the end of the year and the depth of the training rope.
Did you hear the one about the young monk, very early in his chosen profession. He was assigned the duty of writing the scriptures in long hand. After months of this, he was discussing his job with his ÔsupervisorÕ and he asked about the original script that the copies, that he copied, were made from. The elder monk told him that the originals were indeed available but, stored and handled as priceless treasures. He then asked if anyone had ever checked the working copies for errors and was assured that no mistakes were made.
A few days later, as he started work, he heard a sobbing noise from the next room. When he went to check, he found the elder monk staring at a clay tablet, holding his head in his hands. Etched into the clay and covered with tears, under the heading of ÔInstructions on Sexual BehaviourÕ, was the word celebrate. Today I felt a little like the elder monk who learned too late.
Last year, during a week of fun and hard work, I spoke with Robert Croft for the second time in thirty years and the memories came flooding back. If you missed the Pacific Cup, let me refresh your memory. The first man to dive to 200 feet under his own power. After talking with him a few minutes, at a show, in the early 70Õs, I dreamed of copying his feat. Not one of my diving buddies wanted to explore this game.
Today, under MattÕs watchful eye, my thirty year old dream came true.
Aloha
Bill
P.S. 64 is my age by the end of the year and the depth of the training rope.