I was deeply saddened this weekend to hear that a man I admired had died. Metro Nashville's Public Defender, Ross Alderman, was killed in a freak traffic accident, when the driver of an approaching car apparently lost control and hit Ross, who was riding a motorcycle.

Alderman had been a public servant most of his career, from a stint as an Assistant U.S. Attorney in the federal Middle Tennessee district, to the last 9 years as Metro's public defender.

I knew Ross when he was on the prosecuting side in the early 80s, and I was a reporter for the Nashville Banner, covering the federal courts and agencies. Unlike city and state courts where there is always some courtroom action, federal courts generally are not that busy. So a reporter spends a lot of time hanging out with the various players, developing relationships, hoping for tips (and practicing the ability to read upside down, such as documents on someone's desk).

Ross did his job with honesty, diligence and humor - qualities that stayed with him when he went to the other side of the courtroom, judging from the comments of those who knew him there. He was around 30 then, still learning the trade of law, and the shadows around his eyes testified to how much time he devoted to that.

He was also a young father, and like all young Dads, had the crayon art and funny stories. One stuck with me: Ross was home one day when his little boy, Noah, came strutting across the room, and kinda bumped into Dad. Ross realized there was some internal role-playing here and asked his son who he was today. The little boy gathered himself up and announced, "Conan the Librarian!" Ross laughed for a minute after telling that story, so proud of his bookish warrior.

Fans of the old Kung Fu TV series (who get the joke of David Carradine advertising the Real Yellow Pages), will recall the tagline description of the Shaolin warrior-monks: LISTENED FOR - they cannot be heard. LOOKED FOR - they cannot be seen. FELT FOR - they cannot be touched. Which happens to be the description of an A-1 interviewer.

Fortunately, unlike Kwai-chang Caine, you don't need to spend years of meditating and splitting boards with your hands to comprehend this. You don't even need to get dragon and tiger brands. Lessons are all around you:

How many times has your spouse said "Are you listening to me?" and you've mumbled "Uh-huh." You were being truthful - your ears were working, but your mind wasn't. Listening is a physical function; hearing is a mental one.

Similarly, how many times have you looked for your wallet or keys, only to give up and then spot them ... in a place you had looked. Again, looking is a physical action, while seeing is a deliberate mental action. You overlook things (like keys on the counter - and typos!) because your unfocused mind lies - it's already said, "They can't be here."

How about touch? Back to those elusive keys - you patted your pockets, the newspaper, the sofa. You get the drift by now - your mind was lying again.

What does this have to do with interviewing? If you only listen, look and feel (a sense that is usually not that much used in interviews), you will come away with what you expected to … and possibly miss things that could have added detail and depth to your final product.

The more you can push back your preconceptions, the more room you make for what's actually going on in the interview. This is especially important in personality profiles and human interest stories. But it's something to practice in every interview situation - think of each opportunity as a Kung Fu Interview.

We have more interview tips elsewhere on Hammock.com. Put all these together, and over time, you will find that you have learned much, Grasshopper.

You should never pass up an opportunity to meet your lawmakers, regardless of whether their politics agree with yours. Likewise, you should never pass up an opportunity to contact them about issues important to you. And you are well advised to avoid accusing them of partisanship or other shenanigans if you want serious consideration of your specific issue.

I saw a demonstration of this today at a town hall meeting in Hendersonville, a bedroom community of Nashville. The town's two state representatives held a town hall meeting to discuss energy concerns and issues. Their panel included representatives of the oil industry, convenience stores and gas stations, natural gas, alternative fuels, and new energy technologies.

My concern was an phenomenon known as "hot fuel," which is something I hear a lot about from my involvement in the trucking industry. I had been communicating with Rep. Debra Maggart about the issue, sending her links to information about the concern, and she kindly alerted me to the meeting. In fact, she had told me, and mentioned at the town hall, that she had put the issue on a list for possible inclusion in legislation next year.

Also present was state Rep. Susan Lynn, who had attended an energy conference recently and earlier this summer, had an op-ed published in the Wall Street journal supporting expanded oil exploration and drilling.

In the open mic portion of the meeting, various speakers urged more support for alternative energies, lower taxes on fuel, more incentives for home-generated electricity. I spent my few minutes giving an overview of the hot fuel issue, and, at one point, politely disagreeing with Rep. Lynn, about whether morning is the best time of day to gas up (it doesn't make any difference).

The next speaker, however, came armed with grievances and spent most of his time railing about the representatives' partisanship and partisanship in general. At the end of his comments, the reps thanked him graciously and went on smoothly. He'd had the satisfaction of venting, but had not accomplished anything else. In fact, he was from outside their districts and apparently had driven more than 40 miles one-way to have his say. That's energy conservation for ya.

Besides leaving your politics at home, other tips to effectively address lawmakers include: