MAB Q&A

The California thing was a business decision. I was working with distributors and supply companies trying to meet a multi-million dollar deadline. As soon as I would tell them I was from Texas, they would drag their feet and become difficult. I was on a tight schedule and didn't need the hassle. It was easier to just say I was from Oklahoma so that I could meet my deadline. Otherwise, their stupidity would've affected my job and my work reputation. I never had come in on a job late before and I certainly wasn't going to come in late on that one. I had enough headaches compensating for a design that wasn't earthquake friendly in an area where earthquakes are common. Considering that it cost my company $250,000 every day that I didn't meet my deadline and $1.7 million if I engineered the site wrong for every minute the main frames went down, I had a lot bigger headaches to deal with than caring whether someone thought I was from Texas or Timbuktu. So I adapted to overcome.

More than once, I've seen first hand where that Texas bravado can land you. I have a good story about that. It really pertains to what MAB said about people going to Nashville and getting their panties in a wad because Nashville doesn't do things the way they think they should. When I got my first divorce, I went to Jamaica with another cousin of mine to celebrate my freedom. The very first day we were there, I was walking down the beach with no shirt on and a pair of shorts and flip flops. Right beside me was my cousin wearing cowboy boots, starched jeans, red long sleeved starched shirt, cowboy hat and a buckle bigger than he was. He treated the people there badly too. In his mind, they were from a 3rd world country and by God, he was from Texas. It took me all of about 5 minutes to make up my mind that I needed to lose him. The sooner the better. And I did too. I met up with some Jamaican guys and spent my vacation doing as the "Romans" do. I have no idea what my cousin did. But I do know that he hated it there and I loved every second of it.  I also know that when we arrived, I had about $1000 on me and he had several thousand on him. When we got back to the states, I still had $850 and he was broke. We were there a week and the only thing I paid for was mostly just souvenirs to bring home to my family. Everything else was just given to me. And I stayed tore up from the floor up the whole time I was there. As soon as I walked through customs on arrival, the guy driving our shuttle bus from Montego Bay to Negril offered me some "Ganja". I took it to the dismay of the other six people who were also on the shuttle. They complained for ten miles. I finally went up to the driver and asked him if there was a place I could stop and get some rolling papers. He pulled the shuttle bus into this little dive, took what I had with him, walked into this little building and came back out a few minutes later with a brown paper bag with my stuff rolled up. To say the least, that really had everybody complaining at me. And when they saw I had every intention of firing one up, all hell broke loose. Finally the driver took up for me and told them that "In Jamaica it's no problem mon!" So, I lit it up, puffed away and before we got to Negril 5 of the 6 people on that bus including the driver had decided to join the party. Before I left Jamaica, I dumped out a whole backpack full of "ganja" on my bed because I knew I couldn't take it with me. All told, I paid $20 for all of it. Now, you may very well not approve of what I did, but once again, "When in Rome, do as the Romans do." Except in this case, it was Jamaica.