Simon Sez

Something happened last night that wasn’t totally unexpected, but certainly ugly and sad. A Senior Warden was not elected Master. The first ballot was tied at 11 for him and 11 for a Past Master from two years ago, with one abstention, and two votes for others. The second ballot brought a plurality of more than one vote. Evidently, there has been personal animosity from some brothers against the Senior Warden for the past couple of years. But nobody did anything except lie in wait. No whisper of good council. No warning of approaching danger.

I don’t mind the officers of a lodge getting together to decide how to fill vacancies, or deal with progression as long as it doesn’t create an atmosphere of politicking and campaigning. I also don’t mind a group of Past Masters taking an officer aside and whispering good council, or warning him he may not have the support of the lodge.

What I do mind is secretly “stacking the deck” for the election of someone or the defeat of someone. It breeds distrust and disharmony and reveals that a clique actually “runs” the lodge, and, boy, you better not get on their bad side.

I had been invited to be Installing Marshal at the Senior Warden’s installation after his anticipated election, but now I would have to stand and proclaim the elected Master to be a “good man and true.” While I doubt the elected Master was the ringleader last night, he is the public face on the whole thing, and obviously in on the cabal.

So, what do you think I should do, if anything? I could decline to participate in the installation as a show of disappointment. I could do nothing. I could go and lecture the lodge. I guess I could bring someone up on charges. I’ve seen this sort of un-Masonic thing tear a lodge apart. It also happened in another lodge, recently, that a Past Master offered his services since a Senior Warden didn’t want to progress. It also happened when an expected new Secretary was defeated because a bunch of brothers, who hadn’t been seen in lodge in years, came and voted one of their pals in.

As I say, it wasn’t totally unexpected so maybe I should have done something before the election. I had spoken a year ago with an influential member of the lodge who assured me everything was under control. It’s too late now.

I’ve seen everything at annual meetings. I’ve seen brothers refuse to serve when elected, and then castigated by those who didn’t help them when they served before. Why would they want to serve with no help. Our annual meeting this year was very enjoyable because conflicts and grudges didn’t exist.

And today was the defeated Senior Warden’s birthday.

OMG. Oh — My — God!
When I became an officer at Trinity-Mt. Olive, I obviously had to get a tuxedo, as all the officers wore tuxes during degrees. Since I was Junior Deacon in 1995, that meant I also had to buy a tuxedo. I remember I bought a new one, with shawl collar, at Pietro’s in Old Saybrook. I don’t think it was a used one, but I looked pretty spiffy.

I bought my shoes when I became a District Deputy in April, 2000. The “book” said they had to be tied and laced black shoes. That eliminated the usual loafers I might wear for events that demanded something nicer than sneakers (athletic shoes to you young guys). Going through a new store, Nordstrom’s, in the West Hartford mall, and just before we exited, I decided to try on a pair of Allen Edmonds shoes. Yeah, they laced up, had a smooth toe, and were very, very, black. The moment I put them on I knew I had to have them. They fit like they knew me, better than a glove. They were expensive, and I wasn’t going to buy anything that cost that much without “permission” from Debbi. She had the final say, and she bought the shoes for me.

I know how many shoes she owns, and I know how much I love them. I am a connoisseur of women’s shoes. No, I don’t have a fetish. Come on, it’s nothing like that, but I can look at a pair of women’s shoes and tell you the highlights, low points; everything about whether they’re too high a heel, too blocky, whether they make a foot and calf look slimming, whether the open toe is too wide, whatever. I know women’s shoes. I have an eye for women’s shoes. Of course, that’s ladies shoes. I know nothing about a man’s shoe.

So putting on a pair of these shoes that fit the first time kind of stunned me. Maybe I was just having a foot numbing day. I was sure I would be disappointed when I put them on again. And since they weren’t the kind of shoe anyone would just slip on the first time they had to go outside, I would have to wait for the next “special occasion.”

Well, they never felt better, then, or anytime I have ever worn them since. And I’ve worn them a lot, being a lodge officer, or a District Deputy, and then a Grand Lodge officer. I learned to polish them to a “spit” shine. I talked a lot with former Marine Mike who knew how to get that quick shine, and how to make up a good base of polish. I took care of them; wiped off the mud, dirt, and snow. These were shoes I treasured, and not only because they felt great to wear, but also because they looked great. I would see others with all kinds of loafers, and slip ons; one even with a pair of black Reeboks. Oh, come on, man, you’re wearing a tuxedo!

I empathized with a recent Past Grand whose feet were killing him while he broke in his new Bostonians. Yeah, I tried those on one time and they killed me, too. While you’re hobbling around with aching feet what would you spend for some relief, and how often?

So the years went by, all the polishing, the cleaning, usually taking meticulous care of them, sometimes throwing them in the closet not knowing when I would wear them again. And then a couple of weeks ago, I noticed a hole in the sole of one of the shoes. Why does one shoe wear out before another? Good question for Tom, but it had happened. I was crushed. What was I going to do. these shoes had been with me like my best friend. Replacing the shoes with the same brand seemed like a prohibitive expense. And the thought of Bostonians and months of agony was not an option.

But I remembered that Allen Edmonds had a policy and a service to repair and replace worn shoes. I went to their website, downloaded a form, printed a shipping label, packed up the shoes, and sent them off. I just got an email receipt that they would be returned, good as new, in a few weeks. Oh, Allen Edmonds, you made my day.

Did you see that? That’s my shoe!

In the meantime, you’ll see me wear my cheap loafers. You might sneer at my crassness. You’ll see they don’t shine well. The wrinkles in the leather are obvious. But you just wait. In a few weeks I’ll be the one who’s sneering, and you’ll be the one who will be dreading when they have to buy another pair of shoes, and when they’ll have to be broken in again. Oh, your poor feet. Treat yourself!

As a follow up, here’s a message I received today:

Now let me see. what lodge can I visit next Wednesday?

I hate Jeeps and everything about them. People that drive Jeeps, people that ride in Jeeps, even those that ride in the back of Jeeps.

It seems whenever a Jeep is behind me, they speed up and cut me off. If a Jeep is trying to pass me on the highway, it gets in my blind spot, then suddenly speeds up, and gets me stuck behind a slower car.

I don’t like how peppy they seem, and that only causes them to ride up close and tailgate. I hate Jeeps. The drivers look like they’re having too much fun to really be paying attention to what they’re supposed to be doing, which is driving.

I always see them skirting around in traffic; usually open air, no roof, and no windows either, and usually not even a rear window. They drive like, “Wow, am I having fun in my go-anywhere fun car.” And they sit higher, so the driver “looks down” on everyone.

The other day I drove up to a stop light, and while I was waiting for the light to change, I could hear music. I hate it when I don’t turn the radio off, and, instead, turn it down but still hear an annoying something, instead of turning it off. I also hate hearing the music buzz out of earplugs, either mine or or my wife’s. But we checked and it wasn’t coming from the car radio, or any earplugs. No, of course, it came from the Jeep in line ahead of us. Not surprising. Here they were with no windows, no, just blaring the music away, first thing in the morning, not a care in the world, especially not caring that they were disturbing me.

It seems every day when a Jeep driver drives by me, they become a Friday driver. No holds barred, not a care in the world, no responsibility, who cares. Well, let me tell you Jeep drivers, when you see my turn signal flash, that means; I’m cutting you off.

So, now I come to the point of the year, like this time in each of the past 38 years, when I think of the difference it made in my life to meet and love, and get up the gumption to ask a wonderful person to live her life with me.

Yes, August 1 is the date I say is my life changing moment, or the day when I proposed, or if you want to believe her, that she proposed to me. No matter. I’ll agree whatever. It was so mutual, like all the days have been since. I just love the girl. There isn’t anyone I’ve listened to more, for her opinions, viewpoints, every consideration, although I don’t think she realizes it, since it comes so natural to her. She’s so far ahead of me. She got there first. I don’t know how, or why, she puts up with me. I just thank whatever that she does.

I let her, and she lets me. Whatever. Doesn’t matter. I don’t care. She means the world, my world, whatever world we live, that’s it, she’s it. She lets me, and I let her. It’s really wonderful, the freedom, the responsibility, the caring. The transformation is astonishing over the past, now 38 years. I remember when we got past half my life together some 15 years ago. Funny how age and years get broken up, but, yet, all slide together.

So here’s to her. She’s my sweetie pie, my cuddly bumpkin, my snuggly bumpkin, my honey pie. And I love her. But that’s another song.

So…(thanks, Tom)
I haven’t written a damned thing since May, nothing in June and here it is almost the middle of July.

But, hey, it isn’t like I haven’t been doing anything. I’ve been overseeing the renovation of our lodge, traveling to other foreign jurisdictions, meetings with Masonicare, other Grand Lodges, and, of course, you guessed it, generally goofing off.

So to get to the interesting stuff, I’m really happy to report the renovation is going really well. Our contractor is great to work for, seems all of his family is involved and that keeps them under his control pretty much. He has the same vision of what the final outcome should be, always agrees with all my decisions, and I have to admit, I agree with the ones he makes for me. So it’s great to share the same thought of what everything should look like when we’re done.

We’re getting down to the end now. Subfloors are going down and soon the tile and laminate. Then carpet, chairs, and the movers are scheduled for August 1. That sounds like the end but really it’s the start of a lot of work to get things done before Labor Day. And we don’t want to be putting any lipstick on any pigs. That means getting all the “new” we can get to really make this place different from what it was before.

The other day the electrician asked, “When are you going to put the disco ball?” and it was so appropriate because of the big space the lodge room is. Oh, I know, it’s going to shrink when we start moving back in, but right now, the 30 by 40 foot space just seems so enormous. And yet it really has always seemed a perfect size space for a lodge room.

I’ve had fun having (trying) to choose colors and not go off the deep end. On the one hand I don’t want another boring, beige series of rooms. I want the banquet hall to be casual, beachy, peachy, and fun; the foyer, hallway and upper hall, serious, traditional, and what one might expect. Then I want the lodge room to be an elegant place, somewhere we escape to. An asylum, a sanctuary, that special space where we meet. We’ll see. I feel Jeff has been a moderator and a good wall to bounce ideas off. He’s always trying to tone me down, but we both realize this isn’t necessarily what we’d put in our own homes, but a place we go to away from our homes, away from our daily lives, a real sanctuary.

But the realities are that we have to get it done. Have to set it up to make people happy. Have to make them satisfied that what they remembered was preserved, and leave room for new memories to be added.

I think of the Masonic poem that talks about the bridge built for those who come after, and I think of having someone thirty years from now thinking they have to renovate what someone did before; that lasted as long as it did, but it was time to move on. That guy is going to have the same conflicts I have. And he’s going to be building for that other guy, thirty years on. Probably when we’re both long gone and forgotten.

I’ve been coughing up blood, only a couple of times, for the past couple of weeks. Seems to be pretty old stuff, and since I bruise so easily, from unknown causes, I wonder (suppose, hope) if it’s from some unknown injury I incurred. The sputum is dark and hard so seems quite old, but it’s a continual reminder of mortality, and how important it is to enjoy each day. And boy, do I enjoy each day. Every day is a Saturday, and if you think you only get 52 Saturdays in a year, and I get 24 every month, I feel exceptionally lucky to have enjoyed as many as I have in the past few years. And I get Sundays, too!

So, (thanks, again, Tom), when I get around to looking at this particular Beatles’ title I’ve chosen, I wonder. Any time at all? Do we enjoy any time at all? Do we make the most of any time, at all? Do I most enjoy the time I waste, at all? Any time? Why shouldn’t we make this time the same as any time? Does the thought of mortality make any time to be really – all time?

Listening to the music I collect just makes me want to walk. Wanna take a walk? Just listen.

So, (apologies to Tom Accuosti) I’ve been on the road for the past week and a half.

I went to the Grand Lodge of Indiana, staying at the Crowne Plaza Airport. It’s basically 20 minutes from downtown Indianapolis and convenient to both the airport and the city. The hotel was very nice, good exercise area, convenient to our room. We were there twice, nobody else around.

The bus took me to the Scottish Rite Temple, which is a magnificent building, lots of rooms, but the meeting hall looked like the Scottish Rite building in Washington, D.C. Indianapolis Scottish Rite buildingTook some photos, greeted as a distinguished guest, sat down and listened, the usual. Grand Master Kenneth E. Willis ran the show very efficiently. We called him Dick Van Dyke behind his back, probably because we had just seen Dick Van Dyke on Jay Leno. His visit is on YouTube and it’s fascinating; you should see it. MW Willis received his 25 year pin, along with his brother, presented by their father. And when the Grand Lodge approved the Lewis Jewel he was the first to receive it, along with his brother, from their father. In Indiana the Lewis Jewel is presented by the Royal Arch Masons for some reason.

The session was very engaging. Their letter never said what to wear other than a dark suit, so I left my morning suit at home; mistake. At lunch I visited Chis Hodapp and a couple of members of the Masonic Society. That’s a group who puts out a quarterly magazine with Masonic papers and news. I feel for them as I think they have a tremendous challenge before them, but at the same time I wonder how it compared to my challenge of putting out an issue every month except August. And since it was the third week of the month this was supposed to be the time to tie together all the loose ends for the paper to start being laid out on Wednesday. Not going to happen. Adjustments will have to be made or else I’m going to have to add a couple of extra hours to a few days. And that’s not going to happen either.

Everyone we met in Indiana was real nice. I wondered if they couldn’t believe if anyone would bother to travel from Connecticut to be with them. I even met the representative to Connecticut who made a special attempt to greet me. Now, that’s what it’s all about. I don’t know if he ever met someone from Connecticut before.

We returned late, very late on Thursday morning, like around 1:00 a.m., very late and very tired. Worked on the paper for 6 hours at the airport. Have to get the next issue moving. Worked on articles all day Thursday, and Friday morning before heading to New Hampshire. How am I going to do this when I’m Grand Master? Everyone keeps asking me that. Ah, no problem, I have an idea. Who’s going to tell my story better than me? And who’s going to read it? You? Well you better bookmark this site if you plan on following me. Ya got a ways to go.

Then to New Hampshire where again I was out of dress. Again. Their letter said white dinner jackets or tuxedos, and I arrived in basic black. Not the style of the day. Everyone else was in white. Oh, well, it was well before Memorial Day, but someone explained to me that this was a special event and their tradition is white at this banquet; everyone should wear white dinner jackets. Oh, well. but we had a great time. I got to know people I wouldn’t have otherwise. We were making plans to see each other in a couple of days in Rhode Island. New Hampshire and Rhode Island are back-to-back and most who attend one drive directly to the other.

The installation was wonderful, and the dinner was just fine. A Rainbow girl made the day for PGM Belanger. She had a lot of moxie. Gave as good as she got, and then some. Good fun. It was supposed to be business casual, but that meant coat and tie. Luckily I brought a tie and wore my tux coat.

Off to Rhode Island. Gosh, they had a PGM assigned to us, to make sure I got to the session, and later to make sure we got to the dinner. PGM Pouthier was a gent and also the representative to Connecticut. And the session went well, and the banquet superb. They had a hypnotist for entertainment. I brought my morning clothes but their business casual again was coat and tie, and I didn’t want to wear the tux coat again. I told someone who didn’t want to wear a tie that I’d wear his tie, and he could wear my coat, and we’d both be out of line.

I told George Seghers I wanted to be on his board. He said he had his eye on me; I told him I knew. Can there be any greater honor than to promote the Masonic membership of George Washington? Is there any greater person in the world in the last 500 years than George Washington? Is there any great person who challenges the stature of George Washington? The man was not a genius of intellect but of honor. Is there any greater honor than to serve on the board of the George Washington Masonic Memorial? Can we challenge ourselves to be so great? Study Washington, and you will see greatness. He left a template no one can copy.

In our travels we met all the guys, with all these titles, with all these fancy positions. But when I traveled to the Manchester temple with the Grand Master of Pennsylvania who sat in the middle and rode the hump in the back seat, I saw him and everyone else on the same level. The past week and a half has turned a bunch of fancy titles into a Paul and a Steve and a Gil and a Tom. When I heard a PGM say he went to our session in Connecticut to support the incoming Grand Master, I knew why I was where I was. It wasn’t for the free meal.

We were all in this together. Now I drop back to my jurisdiction, and from my jurisdiction to my lodge. That’s where it really starts and ends. Indiana, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, it doesn’t really matter. You make friends, look forward to seeing them soon, and you fade away. But you’ve made a friend for life. Isn’t that what matters? One GM explained the reason we get along and like each other is because we share the same values, and that makes us comfortable with each other.

It’s really no different in a lodge, just a different scale, in a different state. At the end of the long and winding road, you come home.

When the Beatles were breaking up, and making their “warts and all” album sometimes known as “Get Back” or “Let it Be,” they found themselves at each others throats. The pressure of filming, creating, rehearsing, and telling each other what to do when they didn’t even want to have anything to do with each other, finally got to them. Finally, they moved, from the cavernous film studio they were being filmed in, to their own recording studio in their office building.

This brought them physically closer, which should have made things even more unbearable. But then, they did something they hadn’t really done before. They brought in a young, black, keyboard player named Billy Preston to fill in the parts where Paul couldn’t play both guitar and keyboard at the same time. And an amazing thing happened. They put on their best face and began to be on their best behavior.

The fact that an outsider could suddenly see them for who they were was important to them. Maybe it was a British thing about “washing your dirty linen in public,” but it worked, and it made each of them show the others the same respect they showed this young musician.

Now, I bring this up because for the last two Grand Lodge officer meetings, and, yes, we’re basically having two per month (refer to a previous post “Do You Want to Know a Secret?”), there have been District Deputies invited to dinner to discuss what is going on in their district and the lodges assigned to them.

All of a sudden we, the Grand Lodge officers, have an audience. And, not that we ever were rude or insufferable to each other, but it changed the dynamics. We could find out about certain lodges by those who should know them best, and we could talk openly about what we might view as good points, bad points, things to ponder or fix, advice to give, and more discussion.

The only time I ever really experienced this phenomena was when Bob Burdon, one of the “page two” guys came for dinner, and offered (OMG, he actually spoke to Grand Lodge officers) his opinion. And his outlook was right on, one of those slap-yourself-on-the-forehead kind of moments.

I think there’s lots of times we need to get the views of those who might otherwise be ignored. For the past three Saturdays, Jim, Gary, Don, and I have been at five different locations meeting with brothers who have ideas that the direction the Grand Lodge of Connecticut should go.

The idea is based on what the Grand Lodge of California did. They met throughout their state gathering and recording meetings. They condensed the meetings down to the basics, then created a survey, sent out to everyone, and posted on their website. All the answers were digested until a final strategic plan was developed. The funny thing was that the Grand Lodge officers looked at the plan to see if they wanted to change anything – and they didn’t change a thing!

So five locations, three hours each, fifteen hours total, often redundant, but enlightening just the same. And it was good to hear from many of the guys I know, the choir, the ones you find yourself preaching to, who know it better than you, but the real nice guys, too. It was real comfortable.

It was comfortable enough for someone to say, “Here’s a flaw in the system. Here’s where we’ve been missing the boat, and maybe something can be done about this.” And there have been lots of those kind of things, from investigations to NPDs – those guys who have been dropped from membership due to Non-Payment of Dues.

Jim has been saying, “Now, let me summarize what I’ve been hearing.”

I started to say that, too. At the last officer’s meeting when it came my time to comment, I stood and said, “Allow me to ramble. I’m sorry, I’m not comfortable without a glass in my hand, preferably Scotch.” For those assembled, it was an obvious allusion and impersonation of Jim, who likewise can’t sit and talk, and likes the assistance of the glass, and the Scotch, to develop his thoughts. It brought a good laugh. And it did the next night when I performed and gave my impression of Jim at the Past District Deputies dinner.

I wasn’t trying to make fun of him. I wasn’t trying to just reiterate the colloquialisms he uses; “blinding flash of the obvious,” “Adam’s house cat,” “yea, verily,” “between the dog and a fire hydrant.” I respect the man too much.

But it occurs to me that if you act like someone else, you might just develop the same thinking patterns, and I think Jim’s thinking patterns are right on. It came out on Saturday when I said, “What would you say about a man who joined a lodge and for the next 32 years visited his lodge no more than five times. Would you say he was a bad Mason?” A couple of brothers knew the story and giggled. Others thought. And finally they had to admit that if this Mason lived his life by the honorable precepts that he was taught, if he respected and followed the moral tenets, then despite his not attending his own lodge, he was a good Mason. This Mason is Jim McWain.

When I started the question, Jim jumped to his feet. I’d take the words right out of his mouth. He rambled over to the brother I had directed the question to. And when the brother answered that the man was a good Mason, Jim was there to pat him on the back, although the respondent didn’t know why.

Did the Billy Preston realize the Beatles were being who he expected them to be, or being who they thought he would expect them to be? Are our actions an act for others, or what we think others expect of us? Do we act the way we do out of a concerted effort to be who we think others expect, or who we actually are?

And if we are true to our beliefs, and if we can demonstrate those beliefs effortlessly to others, they may see how we think and develop similar patterns. If I “act” like Jim, it’s not for the laughter, but for the essence that I find myself in agreement with. It’s not an act, it’s a sharing of ideas. Try it some time. Try being some other guy you respect and share the same beliefs with. See what comes out of you when you do.

A great week.

I got to play with the big boys on Thursday when all the Grand Lodge officers went to Westport and put on an Entered Apprentice degree. Lots of fun for those of us who haven’t done those parts in years and years, and working together as a team doing those essential Masonic things.  And since we’re a new team, and moving through the chairs, we’re still getting used to our new positions.

Moving through the chairs is like musical chairs, but in the beginning of April one chair gets pulled out and the guy at the top gets pulled out of the game. It’s usually in the first six weeks of the Masonic year that I start to miss the new guy at the top, although he still has almost a year left. The first time I felt that way was when I realized George wouldn’t be around in a year. Then Chuck, and Bill and so on.

It gets to be a very existential existence, learning to enjoy the time you have, not worrying too much about tomorrow, trying to get as much done now as you can, but being a little Scotch and saving something for tomorrow. Some say you can’t plan too much, but if all you do is plan you won’t get anything done.

Charlie likes to say, “It is what it is.” Learn to live with it, make the most of it, and don’t sweat the small stuff. There have been times I’ve had to turn my back and move on.

It didn’t bother me much when I closed the 108 year old family business. And it didn’t bother me much when my 208 year old lodge merged, or when we sold the building, either. I wondered if I was cold and heartless, because I didn’t feel more melancholy. Or maybe I’m just getting used to letting things go.

A friend’s lodge is moving out of a building they had met in for over a hundred years. He’s upset they couldn’t afford to buy the building, and the other members didn’t want to follow his lead in buying another building. So they’ll share a building with another lodge a few miles away.

I’ve been wondering if I envy his passion for being so sad at his situation. This is the building he used to drive by that got him interested in Masonry to begin with. The sign out front triggered his curiosity to finally ask and join. This is the building and the room his family saw him being installed as Master a few years ago. He’s poured his heart and soul into making the lodge a better place, and he generated a lot of fellowship there.

His “lament” will be in the next issue, and maybe that will help him with the closure he needs. But the best way to get over something is to get busy, take your mind off it, let the pain dull. It might not ever go away, and maybe it’ll get replaced by something else. And, hey, what’s another challenge anyway? Nothing new.

And I think once he gets back to the comfort of the ritual, although it will be in a new place, he’ll see the memory isn’t as important as the here and now. Like doing the degree in Westport, mixing the familiar with the foreign. Boy, talk about team building, and feeling again like everyone felt last year in Madison, or Simsbury.

And the past two Saturdays most of us have traveled around to spend three hour sessions talking and asking people what they think is important. We’re telling lodges if they get their candidates together, we’ll come do the degree. Someone asked about degree teams yesterday. I know some districts rely on them too much and they become a crutch. Other teams are something to see because of the great performance they put on.

And when you’re part of a team you want to take it on the road and show everyone, and get that good feeling again. You feel like Andy Rooney, “Let’s put on a show!” At least everyone knows their part. We’ll see what happens, because like Charlie says, “It is what it is.”

Jim McWain goes to the swearing in of the new Army Chief of Staff, General Martin E. Dempsey. When General Dempsey was a Captain he had served under Jim in Colorado. When they met again after the swearing in, General Dempsey said, “Hello, sir.” Jim said, “Hello, General.” The General replied, “You’ll always be sir to me.”

I’ve been obsessing about that conversation for a number of reasons. On the most basic level it’s about a relationship between two men. One once the superior, the other the follower, and now the roles were somewhat reversed. Each had to respect the other for both to be successful, and years later, both recognized where they had come from, and to where they had arrived.

The rank really didn’t make a difference between them. It was the respect between them that mattered. Neither was unduly humble, and both had to have been proud of where they’d been and where they were. Their simple conversation relayed that, and so much more.

We’re taught as Masons to do the same. “Brother” is the simplest, most basic, yet highest salutation we can call one another. We “meet on the level” because each of us is equal in the Maker’s eye, yet we’re proud to have achieved that “level.” It’s not really the bottom, or the base to heap promotions and rewards on; it’s really the ultimate rank.

A new DD said to a Grand Lodge officer, “I outrank you,” referring to the new protocol which gives the DD control, responsibility and privilege in his sub-district. Does he really get it? That he has the position because that Grand Lodge officer “let” him have it? And that it can just as quickly be taken away? “General, I may be only a captain, but since you’re not from my unit I outrank you.” I don’t think so. How silly.

And I’ve heard lots of brothers complain that if we’re supposed to be so “equal” why do some have a title and others don’t? Why do some wear a fancier apron than others? Why are some given honors while others are ignored? How silly.

As Masons we are suppose to learn to ignore the transgressions of others, tolerate with tolerance and toleration. I like to say, “Thank you for letting me be the bigger man.” Masonry relies on independent thought; it relies on the individual to do the right thing; each man makes a difference by being the one difference.

“Welcome to the world of blogging,” I was told when relating the criticism of a recent post. One percent of what I write can cause agita for one reader, while a different one percent might cause it for another. Eventually everyone can take aim at me, each for their own reasons. Really, if I meant to cause someone discomfort, I’m not that subtle. How silly.

But as a true Mason is supposed to be, and I’m trying to get there, I try not to let criticism bother me. It’s really just something else to turn over and over in my mind. How many times do you flip an omelet before you’re sure it’s cooked all the way through? And it won’t be long before I break another egg, make another omelet and start flipping again.

“Keep Masonry in front of you and it will guide you where you want to go.” Great advice. Keep it in front, let it guide you. I think it’s kind of a Zen concept. Like once you have something, you can’t want it anymore. You’re better off to never obtain it so you can enjoy the desire to posses. When someone does something, says something, loses track of how they’re supposed to act? They’ve let Masonry get behind them. Keep it in front and it will guide you. Don’t chase it or grab for it. Follow it, let it guide you. And when someone else doesn’t do what you think they should, and puts themselves above, complains unfairly, doesn’t whisper good counsel; hope that you both get back on the level.

I think Colonel McWain and General Dempsey were really meeting again on the level. And they both knew it. I wonder if the General is a Mason. I know the Colonel is.

News Item: At a mass funeral recently in Libya, it was reported only 12 of the 30 coffins contained corpses.

Conclusion: 30 bodies were stuffed into 12 coffins.

News Item: The recent earthquake and tsunami accomplished what years of protesters and animal rights activists couldn’t; the Japanese whaling industry was destroyed.

Conclusion: Whales caused the tsunami.

News Item: The high incidence of twins born in a small area of Southern Brazil caused researchers to investigate whether Joseph Mengele had performed genetic experimentation when he lived there. However, historical analysis found the twin birth rate was high in the 1930′s, long before Mengele was supposed to have lived there.

Conclusion: Joseph Mengele lived in Southern Brazil far earlier than previously known.

There have been a lot of rumors and conclusions flying around, probably because Jim’s plans haven’t been explained to everyone except those 75 or so who he’s going to rely on. His efforts have gone to have the 75 understand his plans rather than spend time trying to do what is probably futile anyway.

He likes to explain that the high performance teams and organizations he has worked with are ones where everyone knows everyone else’s job, everyone is on the same path, and everyone is doing the best they can because they know what they’re supposed to do.

The military thinking comes in when you look at the two teams that need to work together. The command structure is a Grand Master who personally directs his district deputies. To do this he must be in contact with them, email, call them, meet with them. Anything to make them respond and call him, email him, and meet with him. It’s a two way street, and there’s gotta be some traffic going both ways for it to work.

Jim is giving district deputies far more responsibilities to help Masters and lodges. They need to determine weaknesses, strengths, threats, and possibilities. They also get to screen dispensations, advance their own plans, and really take the initiative. And they’re expected to report their efforts, seek help, and find solutions to problems.

A support or staff structure has been created composed of Grand Lodge officers specializing in specific areas, and committee chairman, whose duty is to accumulate and provide the resources that the district deputies determine lodges need. The Grand Lodge officers are like traffic cops, directing deputies to where the resources are, in case they don’t know. And to make sure the resources go the other way without impedance.

The committees are the experts with the details. They’re the ones who have spent their time delving into the minutiae, sorting and filtering, and coming up with the important stuff. They are the ones who have to give a clear message and really answer the call.

Communication is best when it goes both ways. A good speaker and a good deliverer. A good provider understanding a clear need. That’s where deputies and Grand Lodge officers come in; to see that the messages come through loud and clear, both ways.

And to complete Jim’s definition of a high efficient organization, everyone must know everyone else’s job. Not that they have to be able to do everyone’s job. They just have to be able to observe and see what is falling through the cracks, what isn’t getting done, what someone else might not see. And then report back, for Jim to figure out how to make things function more smoothly and completely.

Now, that’s a lot of work for the Grand Master. I suppose having a command and staff structure of 75 isn’t a new thing for him, but he had worked with professionals, and now he’s dealing with volunteers. Most are certainly more than 2-night a month Masons, but is a 2-night a week Mason enough? With the lodge to deputy ratio cut down to 4 or 5 lodges per deputy, they can spend more time per lodge.

And to fit that few lodges, some lodges have been moved from one district to another. Horrors. You’d think the lodges were being moved from one part of the state to another, but no, they’ll stay in the same town, don’t worry. And the lodges will be grouped geographically closer to each other than they may have been, to make it easier for the deputy.

Yes, there is fallout. But Blue Lodge Councils, Past Masters Associations, relations between lodges, can all be handled and the disruptions can be minimized. Not that those problems aren’t a Grand Lodge concern, but the bigger picture requires bigger solutions.

And now the key is for everyone to both know their job, do it, know everyone else’s job, help them do it, and, yes, explain to everyone else what’s going on so they can help, too. It’s pretty ambitious, logical, has a great chance of success and failure, and a lot of work for everyone who may or may not be used to having something expected of them, and then reminded, observed and helped.

There will be two edicts that should help the process along. One explains the role of the deputies and the Grand Lodge officers, and the other gives the lodges a directive for every meeting.

A plan is only good until the first shot is fired, then all hell breaks loose. Everyone has to rely on their training, how well they understood the plan in the first place, their discipline to be able to stick to the plan, and, stamina, perseverance. Get over those pebbles in the path that you can’t seem to roll over. Roll over them. “Illegitimi non carborundum.” Yeah, I know, but the message is what’s important. If you aren’t optimistic, no one else will be.