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How to Be a Modern Day Renaissance Man or Woman

How to Be a Modern Day Renaissance Man or Woman


How to Be a ModernDay Renaissance Man or Woman

Whenever friends visit my hometown, New York City, I warn them “Never ask anyone riding in the subway for directions.” “Because I’ll get mugged?” they fearfully ask. “No, just because you’ll never get where you’re going!” 

Most Big Apple subway riders know only two things about the subway: where they get on and where they get off. They know nothing about the rest of the system. 

Most people are like NYC strap-hangers when it comes to their hobbies and interests. They know their own pastimes, but all the others are like unvisited stations. My unmarried (and wishing she weren’t) friend Rita has a bad case of bowler’s thumb. 

Every Wednesday night she’s bowling up a storm with her friends. She is forever discussing her scores, her averages, and her high game. Another single and searching friend Walter is into white-water rafting. 

He talks endlessly with his paddling friends about which rivers he’s run, which outfitters he’s gone with, and which class rapids he prefers. 

Thinking my two single friends might hit it off, I introduced Walter the paddler to Rita the bowler and mentioned their respective passions. 

“Oh you’re a bowler!” said Walter. “Yes,” Rita smiled demurely, awaiting more questions about her big bowling turn-on. Walter was silent.


Masking her disappointment, Rita said, “Uh, Leil tells me you’re into water rafting.” Walter smiled proudly, awaiting further friendly interrogation on paddling. 

“Uh, that must be exciting. Isn’t it dangerous?” was the best Rita could do. “No, it’s not dangerous,” Walter patronizingly responded to her typical outsider’s question. 

Then the conversation died. During the deafening silence, I remember thinking, if Rita had run just one river, if Walter had bowled just one game, their lives might be different now. Conversation could have flowed, and who knows what else might have flowered.


Go Fly a Kite! 

The “Scramble Therapy” technique is salvation from such disappointing encounters. It will transform you into a modern-day Renaissance man or woman who comfortably can discuss a variety of interests. 

Scramble Therapy is, quite simply, scrambling up your life and participating in an activity you’d never think of indulging in. Just one out of every four weekends, do something totally out of your pattern. 

Do you usually play tennis on weekends? This weekend, go hiking. Do you usually go hiking? This weekend, take a tennis lesson. 

Do you bowl? Leave that to your buddies this time. Instead, go white-water rafting. Oh, you were planning on running some rapids like you do every warm weekend? Forget it, go bowling. Go to a stamp exhibition. 

Go to a chess lecture. Go ballooning. Go bird-watching. Go to a pool hall. 
Go kayaking. Go fly a kite! Why? Because it will give you conversational fodder for the rest of your life. 

From that weekend on, you’ll sound like an insider with all the hikers, stamp collectors, ballooners, birders, billiards players, kayakers, and kitists you ever meet. Just by doing their activity once.


If you take a piece of blue litmus paper and dip it in a huge vat of acid, the tip turns pink. If you take another blue litmus paper and dip it into just one minuscule drop of acid on a glass slide, the tip turns just as pink. 

Compare this to participating in an activity just one time. A sampling gives you 80 percent of the conversational value. You learn the insider’s questions to ask. 

You start using the right terms. You’ll never be at a loss again when the subject of extracurricular interests comes up—which it always does.

Do You Speak Scuba? 

I’m not a certified scuba diver. However, six years ago in Bermuda I saw a sign: “Resort Dives, $25, no Scuba experience necessary.” 

In just three hours, I received the best crash course in talking with scuba divers the world offers. First I was given a quick lesson in the pool. 

Then, struggling to stay erect under the weight of my oxygen tank, regulator, buoyancy compensator, and weight belt, I went clumping out to the dive boat. 

Sitting there on the rocking dinghy, fondling my mask and fins like worry beads, I overheard the certified divers asking each other insider questions: “Where were you certified?” “Where have you dived?” “Do you prefer wrecks or reefs?” “Ever done any night diving?” “Are you into underwater photography?” “Do you dive on a computer?” “What’s your longest bottom time?” “Did you ever get the bends?”

Why the italicized words? Those are scuba lingo. I now speak scuba. To this day, whenever I meet divers, I have the right questions to ask and subjects to discuss. And the right ones to avoid. 

(Like how much I like seafood. That’s like telling a cat lover how much you love tender barbecued kitten.) I can now ask my new friends which of the scuba hot spots they’ve been to—Cozumel, Cayman, Cancun. 

Then, if I want to really show off, I ask if they’ve been to Truk Lagoon in the Far Pacific, the Great Barrier Reef in Australia, or the Red Sea. 

All the insider terms now roll comfortably off my tongue. Before my Scramble Therapy experience I’d be calling their beloved wrecks and reefs “sunken ships” and “coral.” 

Understandable words, but not scuba words. Not insider words. Upon meeting a scuba diver, I probably would have asked, “Oh scuba diving. That must be interesting. Uh, aren’t you afraid of sharks?” Not a good way to get off on the right fin with a diver.


Technique:-
Scramble Therapy

Once a month, scramble your life. Do something you’d never dream of doing. Participate in a sport, go to an exhibition, hear a lecture on something totally out of your experience. You get 80 percent of the right lingo and insider questions from just one exposure.

Think about it! Suppose at a dinner party, the table conversation turns to scuba diving. 

If you, too, had done your one-timeonly dive, you’d ask your diving dinner companion if he likes night diving or whether he prefers diving on wrecks or reefs. 

(He’ll never believe it when you tell him the deepest water you’ve ever submerged yourself in is your own bathtub.) 

Then you turn to the bungee jumper seated on your left and ask him, “Do you prefer chest-waist jumps or ankle jumps?” If the conversation then changes to tennis, or martial arts, or chess, or coin collecting, or even bird-watching, you can keep up and keep the conversation going. What a guy! What a gal!

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