All arms and legs

Greetings.
You are all being really quiet. No comment on last week’s dose of wit and wisdom? Was it not provocative enough for you? Did it not even annoy the Guardianistas and we know how touchy this tribe can be? Or were we still suffering the effects of the revels?

A few weeks back Cicero was in conversation with a Marketing Head Honcho, swapping notes on experiences, capabilities, skills and competencies. It was an illuminating and interesting discussion as they batted backwards and forwards career highs and lows, though there were few lows on either side.

And then Cicero asked what he thought was a perfectly innocuous, straightforward and easy to answer question-how do you build teams?

The Head Honcho went silent for a long time and then huffed and puffed before finally stumbling his way through an answer. It was not that the Head Honcho could not build teams, he just found it difficult to answer because he was so good at it.

It is often said that in sport great players make poor managers and coaches because the silky skills they take for granted and don’t even think about, they cannot pass on. This is not a problem Cicero has. Never has been and never will be, alas.

Now why should this be? Why can’t great sportsmen pass on their genius? Why couldn’t a Marketing Head Honcho explain why he was so good at team building?

Once again we will look to nature for our answer.

Last week when exploring the libretto from a song and dance show called ‘Chicago’ we mentioned the idea of the Confucian Centipede and this week we find out more about her....or him.

As we know a centipede has a hundred arms and legs. Hence the name. And if you watch closely the arms and legs move seamlessly in a beautifully syncopated fashion that Anton du Beke envies, with a ripple effect that Craig Revel Horwood admires and with a grace and poise that not even Anne Widdecombe can emulate.

One day a centipede was strolling through the forest tracked by Jenny Longlegs who had been taking copious notes of the choreography but when trying to put into action failed miserably.

‘Hey you’, she called out, ‘Mr Centipede. Look I have been studying you for a while but I can’t follow the moves you make that I have written down in my book. Explain to me how to walk like you do’

The centipede took the book, studied it for a while and with a scratching of his head, said,‘Do I do that? Do I really do that?’.

He put the book down, shaking his head in amazement, before trying to demonstrate and to follow the copious and detailed notes that Jenny Longlegs had written down.

But the centipede hadn't thought about this before, and didn't do too great. And as a consequence ‘his hundred feet got twisted and wound up in a tangle, fracturing 14 kneecaps, 7 shinbones and an ankle.’

But the story has a happy ending and though he was in terrible pain and was in recovery for a very long time, he did learn to walk again. Before long he was back on his feet and moving once again in perfect rhythm but now he tells his neighbours, anyone who comes to see, and anyone who wants to know the secrets of his dance technique, "never try an explanation of what comes naturally!"

But that is not the end of the story, you will be disappointed to learn.

For it is not enough to excuse an inability to articulate performance excellence by just saying you shouldn’t explain what comes naturally, as the Head Honcho was advised. Good leaders possess a self awareness and an insight on their performance which means they really do understand their strengths and weaknesses inside and out, and that they can articulate these. Great leaders have the ability to learn about themselves and to pass on these insights to others to coach others to optimum performance.

Sadly the Confucian Centipede would never have made a great leader or coach. We may not have hundred arms and legs but the challenge for us is the same-to be to explain what comes naturally to those around us without getting into a right fankle.

Is it only me.........but I think it’s time for me to get in touch with my feminine side, assuming of course I have one of these!

In the olden days before you left the house all you had to do was to check that you had your wallet.

And in the even older days the only thing that your wallet might contain would be money of the folding variety which was relatively portable and easy to carry around.
Now wallets bulge with a variety of plastic cards and loyalty cards as well as folding money. And you have a small life support system to carry around everywhere with you.

And pockets now strain to bursting as we men carry around a multiplicity of devices to cope with the disabilities of old age such as spectacles and the products of a mobile technology revolution such as phones and MP3 players named after a compote of summer fruits. Last week on one count alone I had stuffed into the recesses of my suit 3 sets of keys; reading glasses; mobile phone; MP3; PDA; and bulging wallet; oh and a few bawbees.

Now this is not just bad for my sartorial elegance. Bulging pockets ruin suits and the line of these vestments. And heaven forbid should a phone ring and you have to rummage through assorted electronic devices, money, specs, wallets and plastic to answer before it rings off, ripping the line of your cool-looking suit as you do so.

So on this occasion, and on this occasion only, I am prepared to admit that the distaffs might have it right.

And I am rapidly coming to the conclusion that the time might be right for me to obtain a man bag to contain my life support system and to enhance its portability without the need for a specially designed suit with the dimensions of a Tardis. I know this will come as a shock to you that I am going all metro-sexual but I can see no other option and methinks the support system need for everyday living is only going to get bigger and more complex.

And although I am already there rationally, I am not yet there emotionally which is why my pockets continue to bulge and strain and why Mae West thought I might be pleased to see her. But it can’t be long now before I succumb and soon I will be able to talk knowledgeably about handbags with the distaffs. Unless you can come up with an alternative solution to my problem.

But I can promise that, given my long standing hostility to trolley dolly brief cases, my man bag will not come with bloody wheels.

Have a great week

Sis felix. Et sis fortunatus.