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Last Chance Meetings Lead to Educational High



California Turfheads need the education hours that our wonderful state government requires for being a Qualified Pesticide applicator. It’s not a stiff requirement, a few hours of Laws and Regs and a few more hours of “other”. I’ve just finished 3 days, in three different cities helping to put on what we call our “Last Chance” meetings. That’s right, you get it, it’s a “Last Chance” to get those continuing education hours. We build this program around giving suppliers and company representatives time slots to go over their products and provide education. It works if everyone lets it.

I like doing these meetings. I didn’t at first. It seemed like a lot of wasted time to teach people the things they should already know. But over time, we have been able to get the right balance of chemical, fert and “others” to make it fun. Yeah, sometimes it gets a little sales pitchy, but with some proper head knocking, we ask speakers to bring their A game and teach and they do just that.

After hearing the same ten talks for three days (that’s 30 talks, in case you didn’t want to grab your calculator), you might think that I would just put my fingers in my ears (or fire up the iPod) and just endure. But the truth is, I listened as much as I could and in each and every version of each and every talk, I found some new information.

I was also on the program to spench forth my limited vocabulary and I found myself looking around the room, taking stock of who was there and customizing my presentation to fit the bill. This is also forced by the fact that the 3 city tour had us speaking to supers from coastal, inland and mountain areas and I could count 5-6 different primary grass types grown, at the minimum. So my talks were all the same and all a bit different. That’s what live music should be like. You can’t play the solo the same every time. You shouldn’t.

What am I on about? Getting to the point here soon. I promise.

Without the aid of Medical Marijuana or Jack Johnson, I slipped into a kind of bliss. And it made me realize, I love to learn. I do. No matter what, no matter who, I’m like a sponge and when the input starts happening, I get all snuggy and happy, wrapped in a warm pig blanket of turfgrass love.

And I had to agree and was happy to help. It’s tough speaking when two turfheads are doing the hand jive in the back of the room. It is.

Others don’t feel the same way. I see it. They can’t sit still. They can’t stay awake. They may think they know it all. They grow Bentgrass and don’t care about how to keep Poa alive. Whatever. It’s a sickness amidst some people that whatever or however it comes to them, they can’t receive it. That’s a tough spot to be in. And in fact, I know it well. I was that guy who didn’t sit down and had other things to do and would much rather talk turf in the hallway. And I’ve come to realize, that is a mistake.

As one of the speakers on one of the days was getting started with his 30 min. of fame, he asked me if I could make a pass along the back side of the room and get some folks to sit, or at least move their conversations out of his eye line. And I had to agree and was happy to help. It’s tough speaking when two turfheads are doing the hand jive in the back of the room. It is.

I’m onto the educational high thing. I don’t care about grabasstic supers who know it all trying to harsh my buzz. I just, love learning. So my goal in setting up these events is to convert the doubters. The ticket punchers who thought they had to be there to “get those hours” might just be glad and may even learn something. They can sit and join the drum circle. Groovy!

Wouldn’t that be something.


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