Me vs. Mr. Sika

On the second day of ninth grade science class, Mr. Sika asked us to pass in our homework. I had nothing to pass in because I didn’t do it. And Mr. Sika noticed. He walked over to my desk and stood in front of me.

“Do you have your homework?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “I left it at home.”

So, Mr. Sika pulled a little notepad and pen out of his shirt pocket.

“Why don’t you give me your home phone number and I’ll give your mother a call” he continued. “I’ll have her read it for me.”

At that moment I wished my mom had been one of those liberated women who could have provided me an excuse by being at work. But she was a stay-at-home mom, so I had to come up with something else.

“I don’t think she’ll be able to find it. My desk is pretty messy.” I was shoveling it pretty heavy at this point.

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll be able to find it. So, what’s the number?” His pen was poised over the notepad.

We were at a stalemate.

Mr. Sika relented from his attack. He finally said, “You didn’t do your homework, did you?”

I think I croaked out a “Yes.” The immediate incident was over but not the embarrassment.

Fifteen years later I finally redeemed the situation. Well, sort of.

Some friends and I went to an improv comedy club several years ago in Orlando. The emcee asked for a situation that we wished we could redeem. I volunteered my sad story about Mr. Sika at West Geauga Jr. High.

The improv players performed a very funny skit with my story as fodder for many laughs. In a mystical miracle, Mr. Sika’s character got on the phone to my mother’s character and even guessed my mom's real name, “Hello, Phyllis, Dave’s mom?” Much to his surprise, my mom faxed my homework to Mr. Sika and all the kids danced mockingly around him and the audience laughed uproariously. The crisis was redeemed.

If only our crises could be redeemed so easily. I’ve had several situations in the past year that were real punches in the gut. Very few of them were resolved so neatly or victoriously. I’ve taken my lumps.

One lesson I’ve learned from the improv classes I’ve taken is the foundational statement, “Yes, and … ” For example, a fellow improv participant might say, “You have a duck on your head.” Instead of responding, “No, I don’t,” you say something like, “Yes, and he’s keeping my bald spot warm. You wanna borrow him?” Now the other player has something tangible to respond to.

Perhaps you've had some situations lately you'd like to redeem. Where can you say, "Yes, and ..." in your business?

If any of those statements have to do with making your website work harder for you or getting greater online presence, please give me a call. We'd love to be part of the redemption process.

One final note to Mr. Sika: If you are reading this ... yes, I didn't do my homework and I'd appreciate you letting me turn it in tomorrow.

Dave Carlson is a Google Registered Adwords Professional and owns Green Chair Marketing Group, a Denver Internet marketing firm specializing in driving visitors to web sites by search engine optimization, pay per click advertising, and web site design/redesign. Call him at 720-922-3124.

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