Lessons learned from a Razor crash
don't take yourself too seriously
Alright. It’s confession time. This Razor scooter was sitting in my aisle at work. As the week was winding down, several people attempted to ride from one end of the aisle to the other with only one push. No one had successfully done it. I thought, “Hey, I can do this!” Ignore the fact that I’m 6’ 3”, weigh 205, and wear a size 13 shoe. As I reached over to grab the handle, I thought, “I’ll show these kids how it’s done!” The first attempt was not great. I tried a second time and almost made it. As the encouragement of my office mates started to build, I went for a 3rd try. Approaching the end of the aisle, I needed just a little more momentum to go the distance. So I leaned my weight forward and…CRASH!
OK, here’s the good news, I didn’t face plant or end up in a cast. I shook the dust off and quickly hopped up, only to see the entire row laughing. At me? With me? Sometimes, I’m not sure what the difference is. I soon realized that this had to be the funniest thing that had happened all week, all month, perhaps all year. Here’s a 50-something-year-old man trying to keep up with people half his age. It's not the wisest move for a brain surgery survivor!
So why did I do it? I don’t have a great answer, but there is one takeaway from this story: self-deprecating humor is a connector. Michael Scott almost learned this lesson from Jim.1 I have a friend at work who is excellent at this. When he does something funny, he is the first to acknowledge it. He is one of the best people connectors I’ve ever met. I’ve also seen him use this skill to defuse tense workplace situations.
Do you enjoy being around people who are trying to be perfect? I don’t, either. Be the first to laugh at yourself. Have an “impactful” week!
On a scale of 1 - 5, how good are you at laughing at yourself? Try it and share your stories in the comments below. Please hit the ❤️ button so more people can see it. Have an outstanding week!
Tarek, as soon as you asked the question I thought of this poem I wrote yeeeeaaars ago:
(thanks for asking!)
Roller Derby
I fell flat--face first
on the ground Hard.
Stopped short, mid-stride,
chatting as I rolled around
the corner.
I’ll show these young people
a thing or two.
I just wanted to join in the fun--
Church Family Skate Night, aka
fellowship with the saints,
I didn’t exactly want to lay
my life down—not quite like that.
Yet there I was—cut lip, ravaged wrist,
Flailing pile of limbs laid low.
Brother, sister, friend
gathered ‘round with care
offering aspirin, coming to the
old lady’s aid--fine, I'm owning it--
proving once again there are at
least 101 uses or a Ziploc baggie
full of ice.
It was totally worth it.
This is a great story. I’m not good at this. Laughing at my self not scootering. Although I think I might get my scooter out and go to the shop.