Darrel Huish

I do hobby recording of acoustic guitar and vocals. Every so often I manage to produce a CD for family and friends. I did one in 2010 called Paul St. Crossing, and am putting finishing touches on another one this year called Insider’s Smile.  Taking pre-orders now, in case you were wondering. (By way of explanation: If you live in St. Paul in February the best path to a smile is to be inside.)

As is often the case, this project took on a life of its own. It began as a happy CD. At first, if I couldn’t smile while singing the song, then it wasn’t a candidate for recording. The first track is If I Had A Boat written by Lyle Lovett and that one always makes me smile. Wall of Death has the same effect once I remember that the Wall of Death by Richard Thompson isn’t about the Grim Reaper, but apparently about a nifty ride at the amusement park. However, I recently wrote a song called What Do I Win If I Win? And that song tells the tale of a fellow that is trying to figure a way back into good graces with his beloved, but asks the natural question about the consequences of success. Will it be worth it? And so, before I knew it, the project had morphed into a folk opera. Happy songs followed by love, loss, negotiation, whimsy, acceptance of loss, fond farewell, and then an anti-war song as a coda.

Oddly, I am very very happy with it. Every song has plenty of flaws. It was recorded with a single microphone capturing guitar and voice using GarageBand. It isn’t fancy. And yet, it’s the closest I have come to being able to say: “If you were in the kitchen, and I was watching the Diamondbacks (muted of course) while playing some songs on the couch, this is what it would sound like.”

Operators are standing by!

Yesterday I had occasion to go to Lowe’s Home Improvement Store. It was a big version of the standardized store and as much as anything my visit was an opportunity to walk in air-conditioned comfort. It isn’t mall-walking, it’s warehouse-store walking. As I walked the aisles, I had a powerful thought: “Look at all this stuff I don’t need!” As a renter, I don’t need lumber or bricks or bathroom tile. I don’t need a new garbage disposal, or rotary tiller, or chandelier. I am not writing this from a stance of smugness. Instead, I am noting my sense of wonder at how many things you don’t need if you rent, i.e. paying someone else to take the risk and worry of ownership. In the past I have enjoyed installing my own improvements. Looking back, I am amazed I re-tiled the back patio, dug a fish pond, and replaced toilets. I used to walk Lowe’s not for exercise, but to generate ideas for a new fun project.

Maybe it’s part of getting older, or having a little bit of money for outsourcing, but it feels like I’m waking from a strange dream. I did what? I bought tools? I own a Dremel?

So, all things considered, what did I buy yesterday? A little foliage plant, and a cute purple ceramic planter the size of a coffee can. Plants are my kind of home improvement, placed right in the middle of the coffee table.

Not so fast! Today we had our new leader speak to an all IT staff townhall-style gathering. Steven Rosenstone had a few prepared remarks and then took questions. In the course of that dialogue he shared his observation that within our System many will believe that the opposite of decentralization is to centralize. Instead, he suggested, we can think that the opposite activity is collaboration. That was a new thought for me. I am intrigued by culture change, and also by the ways leaders can set new things into motion. What would happen if we took a classic centralize/decentralize problem (let’s say for example student email) and instead of analyzing whether we should do it here at Office of the Chancellor instead asked “how are we all going to collaborate so that students can reliably receive important email concerning their education?”

Today I ventured out to lunch and considered my normal and numerous choices. Saint Paul has several dozen, I betcha, decent places to have a quick turnaround meal. As I thought about my frequent haunts: Jimmy Johns, Subway, Pickerman’s (for BBQ), Zantigo (for chicken quesadilla) I realized that if today was my last meal ever I would want the Katsu-don from Sakura. The meal was great, totally yummy in fact, but that’s not my point. I want to hold on to that feeling, and the ability to ask and answer the question: what do I really prefer in this moment? In that moment, it was a specific dish and at a specific place that was within walking distance. I think many times there is an experience within our grasp that we forget to pursue because our routine takes us toward the familiar.

Now, let’s see…. what’s for dinner?

My dad used to be singularly undaunted by the rain. We would be out and about, on the way to do something, and if by some unusual Arizona circumstance it would begin to rain he would say, with gusto he would say, “This ain’t no rain. Rain is when water falls from the sky. This is more like a drizzle, or a splash, or a shower, but this ain’t no rain.”

Sometimes growing up I thought my dad charming, and sometimes I thought him crazy or stubborn, but now looking back (at least in this case) I consider him wise. If we had stopped our plans every time it started up with a little rain, we would have played less golf, gone to fewer county fairs, delivered less ice and laundry, and in general had less fun. It gives me great happiness to have passed this subtle lesson to my oldest granddaughter. Now 6 years old, Ashlyn can do a perfect, inter-generational imitation. She looks to the heavens as the drops fall. “This ain’t no rain!”

Today was the first day with a new CEO of the enterprise. It feels a bit like a new Captain of the Enterprise, instead. The new boss made a very solid introductory speech to the staff today. He laid out three things he knows we need to care about: quality, cost, and access for students. He asked for help in identifying great ideas. He said the best way to be sure of getting a really great idea is to start out with a lot of them. He also sent a similar e-mail message to each employee in the system. To my view, it is telling that he wants to occasionally take a message straight from him to each of our several thousand employees; and not only sending the message, but including a specific return email address for submission of those creative ideas. Seems simple, but it begins a dialogue, and a new era. Here’s to new beginnings!

It’s been 6 months since I posted in this blog, and 7 months since I arrived in Minnesota. I have learned a lot and found other outlets for the blogging impulse. 750words.com is a great site to write the words that you just need to get out of your mind and onto the screen. It’s helped me a bunch to do that every day for the past 6 months and it’s saved blog readers from a ton of angst and thought-process about leaving Arizona for the happy territory called “the Cities.” I win, you win — but the blog gets neglected.

Then there is my Facebook page. The micro-blogging that happens there is unmatched for sharing with only the selected audience and with reliable nearly real-time feedback. If you are reading here, and haven’t friended me yet, please do.

Still there are things that don’t belong in FB, and don’t require the privacy of 750words. This post is one of those. I have learned that there are many good places to get many good kinds of good pizza in Saint Paul. Oh yes it’s true. Here’s a rundown:

Red’s Savoy Inn – Mondo toppings on a doughy crust in a slightly scruffy environment. They almost enjoy making you wait for it. B+

Trattorria da Vinci – Outstanding homemade mozzarella on lavash cracker bread crust. A-

Blackdog – The best. All organic, all fresh. Very thin crust with a bit of flex. The special is basil, tomato and canadian bacon. Sensational pizza. A+

Pino’s – New York Style pizza by the slice. Perfectly foldable with nice choices of toppings. In the 5th Street food court. B

I haven’t found a bad pizza in this town, although it’s fun to keep looking.

I wrote this on a napkin for a dear friend. It’s in the mail to her, so I’ll share with everyone here before Spring is over.

Sun warms up the ground.

so slowly. hard to believe.

Suddenly: Tulips!

I have a colleague and former mentor that is blogging about the mental and physical processes she is going through as she accepts that she needs to have an amputation in order to be healthy. It is a courageous and helpful journal. Annie is opening her story to the world in the sure-to-be-realized hope that someone else will benefit. While I admire this I find it has a chilling effect on my own journaling — I mean isn’t it pretty trivial to describe the (relative) anxiety caused by the first trip to the laundromat? Yes, of course it is. Perhaps I can ease into it if I acknowledge that my stuff isn’t at Annie’s intensity.

Today I spent 30 minutes (it took two trips) proving to St. Paul Credit Union that I was worthy to give them $1500 cash in hopes that they would give it back to me at some point in the future. At one level, it makes sense: they want to know if you really are who you say you are, and if you live where you say you live. Still, I wasn’t asking for a line of credit, or a loan — just please take the cash and give me a good way to get it back someday. It illustrates that it’s possible to take for granted people like the woman at a different credit union (Linda is her name) that cashed my ASU checks for 20 years, and the dry cleaner owner/entrepreneur in Tempe that invariably thanked me for my business (Patrick is his name and he is a big Sun Devil fan.) There was an outstandingly cheerful waitress at Village Inn until about 4 years ago named Ember. She rocked.

I am rambling, but I guess the emerging theme is that there are many businesses and people to be thankful for. Don’t wait too long to tell them that they rock. That blend of 50% diet coke and 50% coca-cola didn’t jump in the glass all by itself; that’s what I’m thinking.

I’m writing from my perch on the sun-drenched 16th floor of the Jackson Tower. The good: SW exposure means wonderful light into the apartment all day. I can see my work building from here; it’s a 10 minute walk at most, either by skyway (indoors) or sidewalk (fresh air.) More good: wireless internet is hooked up. The set-up for the short-term lodging is super nice and completely livable. Just a little more good: We have found easy access to a Whole Foods, a Target, and multiple breakfast spots. Great start to the new adventure!

The not so good: It’s windy on the balcony. Sunny or not, it isn’t a place to linger yet. Also, no high-def TV and the Masters is only two weeks away.

Lessons learned so far: Galtier is pronounced Gaul-TEER in these parts. Mall of America is plenty cool with something for anyone. Como Conservatory looks substantial and scrumptious from the outside; can’t wait to have a chance to take a languid stroll through there.

I know there will be adversity. No snow lizard migrates north without some trials. But so far, it’s all been welcoming and enticing. Stay tuned…