Yes, Sir. No, Sir

I had lunch yesterday with a close friend whose son was just accepted into West Point.  He was telling me about the intensity that his son can expect, especially during the Cadet Basic Training, which is lovingly referred to as ‘Beast Barracks.’  He was explaining that during that time, they are only allowed to respond with one of four specific responses:

• “Yes, Sir.”
• “No, Sir.”
• “No excuse, Sir.”
• “Sir, I do not understand.”

No other responses are allowed…ever.  Isn’t that one of the coolest things you’ve ever heard?

So, immediately I started thinking what it might be like to have a ‘Beast Barracks’ day at work?”  I began playing it out in my mind, imagining interactions where I would only receive one of these four allowable responses.  For that one day, I wouldn’t have to deal with, “But, wait…” or “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard” or “What did you put in your Diet Pepsi today?”  Ah, a sweet thought indeed.  What’s that you said?  Oh, it sounded a lot like “Yes, Sir.”

That was so much fun that I started thinking about what it might be like to have a ‘Beast Barracks’ day at home.  I smiled as I thought about hanging with my kids.  I contemplated a day without “That’s not fair, Dad” or “She hit me first” or “It’s my teacher’s fault.”  Oh yeah, “No excuse.” That’s what I want to hear.  A man can dream, can’t he?

But then I got to wondering what it would be like if I could only respond to people using one of the four allowable responses.  Those are actually very versatile responses, handy even.

My parents want to take us to Hawaii for eight days in February to celebrate my Mom’s 75th birthday.  I think “Yes” would work nicely.

My wife asks if I’d like to turn down the surround sound while watching Braveheart for the 20th time.  Uh, “No.”

A staff member is trying to explain to me the complex nuances of why lunar cycles prohibited him from completing his assignment for the 3rd month in a row.  While that’s mildly amusing, I think “No excuse” is appropriate.

My daughter wants to use my car on Saturday to drive at least a dozen of her friends around to unknown locations to do little or nothing for hours on end, and I get the privilege of paying for the gas.  I can only say, “I do not understand.”

Ah, the beauty of clear communication.