Like many red-blooded Americans, my friend—let’s call him John—dabbles in carpentry whenever he can motivate himself to move from the computer to produce something more tangible. Recently he discovered that although motivation can be a great catalyst, it can never replace skills. In a grand testimony to that truth, he has never been able to produce anything more than a hole in a board or two pieces of wood out of one. His most recent story parallels the teachings of this book. Embarrassed by the incessant boasting of neighbors a nd friends about their great accomplishments in the fine art of carpentry, John woke up one day determined to turn the tide—become skilled at carpentry. He even picked out a project—a garden shed to store all the mysterious but seemingly useful stuff that occupied the modest real-estate of his garage, forcing his cars to become refugees on the driveway. No way, no sir, he told the cars—pretty soon they would be able to go back to their promised homeland, just as soon as he banished the clutter to the garden shed, which he would build with his newly acquired skill. The cars seemed to honk in agreement, or perhaps he imagined it. Charged with new passion, he rushed off to a store for homebuilders full of other trumped-up newbies like himself. He chose a book on do-it-yourself garden sheds. He bought the materials and the all-important tools. He did everything by the book. But two years have passed by, and all he has been able to produce are numerous cuts, bruises, scratches, and countless pieces of wood wasted as a result of not being cut properly—either cut too short or angled too acutely. In the course of these years, my friend added more tools to the collection—tools that supposedly make a carpenter out of anyone with the right inclination and bent of mind—and more wasted wood, drill bits, and saw dust. The shed, not even a remote resemblance of it, never saw the light of the day. What went wrong? The missing ingredient was the right foundation. My friend was not a skilled carpenter. All the good intentions and excellent tools didn’t do a thing to get him the right skills. What he should have invested in early on was time in learning the trade. He should have spent time in small but sure ways, learning how to use the tools he acquired. He should have learned how to measure pieces of wood before cutting them. No, he should have learned how to measure twice before cutting! He should have learned how to master the tools before actually using them on a project. But, above all, he should have realized that sophisticated tools and do-it-yourself books are not substitutes for a conceptual foundation on anything that requires expertise—the building of garden sheds included.