tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8732909676295025542024-03-13T06:59:45.682-07:00WordHeardLife is what happens after we make our plans - John LennonAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.comBlogger30125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-46058292280264546892013-03-02T09:40:00.001-08:002013-03-02T09:52:48.387-08:00Hope For the Next Generation<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yuyEXJVe6Ug/TRJSbm6wjsI/AAAAAAAAAEw/IY3Bhv2d4t8/s1600/logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yuyEXJVe6Ug/TRJSbm6wjsI/AAAAAAAAAEw/IY3Bhv2d4t8/s200/logo.jpg" width="163" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve always been a fan of the <a href="http://www.ask.com/wiki/Star_Trek" target="_blank">Star Trek</a> franchise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Creator Gene Roddenberry took science fiction
from fighting aliens to a closer look at our frail human nature.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Star Trek Next Generation took the series to
a higher level of moral issues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whether
Kirk or Picard, Janeway or Archer:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the Captain of a Federation Starship always
tried to do be honorable as he (or she) represented the human race. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sounds rather hokey, doesn’t it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Almost cheesy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But in
fact, the whole premise of the series was almost <a href="http://www.the-ten-commandments.org/the-ten-commandments.html" target="_blank">Biblical</a> – you know that stuff
about “do unto others, love thy neighbors, don’t covet, and don’t lie.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But somehow over the years our moral compass
has become misdirected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We often fail
to respect, lies become acceptable if they’re little ones, we covet, we fight with
neighbors over trivial matters, and don’t even start with “thou shall not kill.”
</span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-91IBj4I6AzM/UTI3dl_zgLI/AAAAAAAAA_0/HpYet_vFA4s/s1600/Vet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-91IBj4I6AzM/UTI3dl_zgLI/AAAAAAAAA_0/HpYet_vFA4s/s200/Vet.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But recently, I saw a glint of sunshine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two days ago, my daughter called me quite
upset over an event she had witnessed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To protect her privacy, I'll call her Annie. Annie is in her final year of Veterinarian College.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She has worked two, even three jobs at a time, studied endlessly, and persevered
after every setback and never surrendered her dream.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With her boards passed, and graduation in
May, Annie is within arm’s reach of her degree and license to practice. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet, she put it all on the line this week,
because she was compelled to do the right thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Annie</span> witnessed another Veterinarian lie to a
pet owner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A medical mistake was made
and as a result, the pet was lost. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Morally, and by oath, the Doctor is responsible
for telling the pet owner the truth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He chose
to create a plausible excuse for the death.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My daughter was so troubled she went to her school advisor
to report the event.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her goal wasn’t to
get the Vet in trouble, but for the school to evaluate the clinic’s role in the
curriculum for future students.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Annie</span>
took the high ground for all the right reasons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am exceptionally proud of her.</span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RT1W3cQs7BA/UTI2r6eGYvI/AAAAAAAAA_s/GtGkJqAJOkU/s1600/Law.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="148" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RT1W3cQs7BA/UTI2r6eGYvI/AAAAAAAAA_s/GtGkJqAJOkU/s200/Law.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now, in an unrelated incident, yesterday, while driving to
work, I was involved in a minor fender bender.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A young lady bumped into my car while I was stopped at a traffic light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She couldn’t have been moving more than 5
miles an hour and could easily have stayed in her car to see if I would
respond.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead, this young lady
immediately came to my car to see if I was alright.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We moved our vehicles out the traffic lane and
exchanged information.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This young lady,
her name is Callie, accepted her responsibility and did the right thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Callie is about my daughter’s age and
recently completed her Law Degree.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Callie
took an oath, chose to honor her words and I’ll bet her dad is exceptionally
proud of her, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">If either of these young ladies ever watched an episode of
<a href="http://www.ask.com/wiki/Star_Trek" target="_blank">Star Trek</a>, it was a rerun sitting on their dad’s lap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t speak for Callie, but I’m pretty sure
my daughter hasn’t had much time for reading the Bible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But both young ladies honored those commandments
– which so many feel are “optional” and not required.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">That gives me hope for the Next Generation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And best yet, if they continue on their
journey, someday they may become the Captain of their own Starship and represent the
best of the human race.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-58260707945353481752012-01-21T10:29:00.000-08:002012-01-21T10:38:05.813-08:00Activity vs Accomplishment<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">We’ve all read the articles regarding the importance of properly preparing for interviews. Experts urge us to read up on the company we’re trying to join, to learn what we can about the interviewer and to come prepared with open ended questions to help extend the dialogue and build rapport with the hiring manager.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>But every now and then, a question comes along that throws me for a loop. Ironically, this time the question didn’t come in the hiring process, but rather, after I’d joined the company and my supervisor was having a review meeting to assess my progress.<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">For forty years I’ve been actively involved in the product side of radio broadcasting, but recently, I joined a local radio station as a sales representative. It’s an interesting transition for me, because I’ve always considered myself a “sales friendly” programmer. What I’ve learned, is that while I empathized with the sales team, I knew very little about the challenges of the position.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Yesterday, I was asked what I saw as the differences between a “program director” and an “account executive.” While a bit simplistic, my observation was “<strong>a program director says no first and then says prove me I’m wrong; a sales executive hears no first and has to convince the client he’s wrong</strong>.”</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">As our conversation continued, a few more tangible differences came up; most interesting is the notion of accomplishment. As a manager, <strong>I’ve always tried to teach my team to not confuse activity with accomplishment.</strong> As a programmer, we view accomplishment on a daily basis; almost break by break. We coach our talent, we make a difference. We write a new promo and coach a young production assistant to create a compelling audio statement and we’ve accomplished something very tangible.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Program Directors once had the luxury of viewing accomplishment on a quarterly basis, now, thanks to the world of PPM ratings, programmers look at monthly, weekly, daily, even hourly accomplishment. As an account executive, I don’t consider making calls an accomplishment, or even scheduling appointments an accomplishment; although both are critical to my success. Even, after the deal is signed, I haven’t accomplished anything until the spot is written, produced, scheduled, and aired. Before, when wearing the program director “hat” I would have thought the AE’s job was done with the client. But, I’ve learned that there are two more steps in the process. If the client doesn’t pay for his advertising, the commission I thought I earned is charged back and deducted from my salary. If the client doesn’t renew, because we failed to meet expectations, I’ve lost a client not only for myself, but perhaps for the radio industry. That’s a lot of responsibility for a rookie, although I doubt most sales beginners in radio think in those terms. I do, because of the unique perspective I bring to the position.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>I do bring some advantages to the position. I believe a program director’s creative side serves well in responding to client objections. We certainly addressed similar challenges in sales meetings when AE’s would repeat what their client had said on a sales call. And I believe our creative side helps when writing creative proposals and broadcast copy. Programmers expect more from their copy than just bland phrases like, “Topeka’s finest sushi bar,” with apologies to someone in Topeka who may read this blog.<br />
<br />
In the same meeting, I was asked my thoughts on our programming. A fair question as, in theory, it’s my area of expertise. I answered “It doesn’t matter what I think, <strong>my job is to sell the product, not judge the product</strong>.” At that moment, I realized one or the other would become my greatest challenge as a radio sales representative.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.about.me/edscarborough" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="52px" nfa="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h92WyS5CqJU/TxsC_YTbnKI/AAAAAAAAArA/_WA1Dk_EQaA/s200/About+Me-1.jpg" width="200px" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-39113538049815383462011-11-25T10:12:00.000-08:002011-11-25T15:26:24.837-08:00If you think dogs can't count<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">If you think dogs can't count, try putting three dog biscuits in your pocket and then giving Fido only two of them. ~Phil Pastoret</span></strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"></div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">My love for dogs began when I was five. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gKnADq19FEE/Ts_Wdi6L08I/AAAAAAAAAl4/rfxW89-hAxY/s1600/DSC_0077.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="212px" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gKnADq19FEE/Ts_Wdi6L08I/AAAAAAAAAl4/rfxW89-hAxY/s320/DSC_0077.JPG" width="320px" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">My mother had passed away and my dad had me stay with my Aunt Mim and Uncle George for a few days while he sorted things out. I was too young to understand the full impact of how life would change, but smart enough to feel the loss. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">George and Mim had a beagle named Lassie. Somehow that dog knew I was hurting and confused, and wouldn’t leave my side. Lassie let me hug him, talk to him, and find comfort in petting him. Author <a href="http://www.dealoz.com/search.pl?catby=book.keyword&query=ben+williams&is_ad=1&utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&utm_term=ben-williams-books_broad_google_book_sp_pc_cpc_text&utm_content=54osB-NlM7FuG6hz81Bo9A&utm_campaign=google_author_book_sp_cpc_author23&rcount=2">Ben Williams</a> once wrote, “There is no psychiatrist in the world like a puppy licking your face.” And Lassie, at least in my memories, was the therapist that helped a scared little child cope with the confusion of life. In some ways, dogs are like surgeons – or, as <a href="http://books.google.com/books?id=T6IjcBHK4VsC&pg=PT152&lpg=PT152&dq=judy+desmond+dog&source=bl&ots=CDyMdQ2ESv&sig=gXDkJcDSUJuFwjcuwh2xCSv6bc0&hl=en&ei=29LPTp_bFtKisQLJkNyEDw&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=8&ved=0CF8Q6AEwBw#v=onepage&q=judy%20desmond%20dog&f=false">Judy Desmond</a> noted, “A dog is the only thing that can mend a crack in your broken heart.”</div><br />
Flash forward to when I was a newlywed, and our first joint decision was to get a pet for our new home. A friend from college had introduced us to his Yorkshire Terrier, “Polo” and the dog just plain stole my heart. Yorkie’s are a unique breed (aren’t they all?) and I was drawn to the “character” of the spirit inside that cute ball of fur. Prissy, yet impish … Yorkie’s are dogs that can tear up a rug while melting your heart with a smile and a wagging tail. We named our first “child” Stash and in the words of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Cold-Noses-Warm-Hearts-Beloved/dp/1572230665">Corey Ford</a>, we quickly learned “Properly trained, a man can be dog's best friend.”<br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Yorkie’s just don’t understand they’re a small breed. Fearless, Stash would gravitate toward bigger dogs at every opportunity. With reckless abandon, he’d chase <a href="http://www.akc.org/breeds/labrador_retriever/">Labs</a>, <a href="http://www.akc.org/breeds/dalmatian/">Dalmatians</a>, and even a <a href="http://www.akc.org/breeds/great_dane/">Great Dane</a>. His mistake was going after an <a href="http://www.akc.org/breeds/alaskan_malamute/">Alaskan Malamute</a> in an effort to protect his yard. The Malamute wasn’t into negotiating a peace treaty and settled the matter rather quickly. Tougher than they look, a Yorkie’s devotion to their owner creates a relentless survival instinct. Despite a crushed rib cage and collapsed lung, and an “outside” body cast developed by the <a href="http://vetmed.missouri.edu/">Columbia College of Veterinarian Medicine</a> at the <a href="http://www.missouri.edu/">University of Missouri</a>, Stash stayed with us for fourteen years. In the words of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agnes_Sligh_Turnbull">Agnes Sligh Turnbull</a>, “Dogs' lives are too short. Their only fault, really.” </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">This Thanksgiving weekend, I watched the National Dog Show on NBC. The competition has become an annual event, traditionally following the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. I have yet to find a breed that draws me more than the Yorkshire Terrier. What struck me during the broadcast was a poem read by actor <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0641417/">John O'Hurley</a>. The words expressed a sentiment I could never put into words and they touched me. The final line of the poem, paraphrased, was “because a dog’s tail is attached to his heart.” I don’t think I’ll ever see a dog wagging his tail and not think of those words.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Later in the day, on the evening news, there was a story of some forty <a href="http://www.akc.org/breeds/beagle/">beagles</a> rescued from an animal testing lab in Spain. Rescued doesn’t seem quite correct, as the only reason the laboratory gave the animals to the <a href="http://www.blogger.com/Beagle%20Freedom%20Project%20::%20About%20the%20Project">Beagle Freedom Project</a> was because the business, yes business, was about to close. These animals had been prodded, poked, and tested every day of their lives. They never knew the happiness of a gentle stroke on their neck, or the joy of chasing a ball. Yet there they were, on a tarmac in Los Angeles, wagging their tails and licking the faces of perfect strangers who would soon become their servant. “Dogs are the most amazing creatures; they give unconditional love. For me they are the role model for being alive,” <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0705717/">Gilda Radner</a> once wrote. Can anyone argue the point?</div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CwIyhxjHbqQ/Ts_WkN7ASQI/AAAAAAAAAmA/mmLnW_XDSXs/s1600/DSC_0002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="212px" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CwIyhxjHbqQ/Ts_WkN7ASQI/AAAAAAAAAmA/mmLnW_XDSXs/s320/DSC_0002.JPG" width="320px" /></a>I know there are people who aren’t dog lovers or think of animals only as tools to perform chores on a ranch. I don’t understand them. And while I prefer the company of a dog, I know there are people who prefer cats. But I’m allergic to them which makes it difficult to become close to a feline friend. Somewhere along the road of life, my daughter developed such a love of animals that she is studying to become a veterinarian. Through every imaginable obstacle and despite various setbacks, she has never stopped pursuing her dream and next year she will complete her coursework and begin to help the animals she loves so dearly. I’m incredibly proud of her, especially because I was part of the obstacles and setbacks.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">My oldest son has a Yorkie and he quickly learned once you “Scratch a dog – you’ll find a permanent job.” (<a href="http://www.squidoo.com/franklinpiercejones">Franklin P. Jones</a>). My youngest son grew up raising “Wicket” and “Poco” … two of the most mischievous Yorkie’s I’ve seen. Today, my Yorkie, “Winston” takes me for walks each day pulling on my leash when I’m not walking fast enough. His daily goal is to mark his territory. Apparently, Winston thinks he owns the entire neighborhood. Poor pup, too many mailbox posts, and such a little bladder. Winston, like his predecessors, has the same policy of not allowing me to read a newspaper without putting his paw through the pages. He wants to play “tug of war” whenever the most important part of the movie is showing and with undying faith, sits under the dinner table hoping for a morsel of food to drop. Occasionally, I accommodate in the spirit of testing some of <a href="http://www.biography.com/people/isaac-newton-9422656">Newton’s</a> principals of gravity. Or is it gravy?</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">If you’ve taken the time to read these thoughts, I know you are a lover of dogs. My breed of choice may not be yours. It doesn’t matter, because you have your own stories to tell of how your dog made you laugh and listened to your heartache and kept your confidences. It’s what dogs do – they are the best listeners in the world. “Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole” wrote <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Roger-A.-Caras/e/B000AQ6M60/ref=sr_1_3?qid=1322243620&sr=1-3-ent">Roger Caras</a>.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Winston brings me a peace that takes me to simpler times. At night, he will sit on my lap and let me stroke him while I try, usually without success to get him to stop licking my face. As someone once wrote, “My goal in life is to be as good of a person my dog already thinks I am.” As I write my thoughts, he is faithfully sitting in a chair by my side. He is my shadow and I am his. Over the years, my family has been the servant to six Yorkshire Terriers. Each one filled with unique character, loyalty and a stubborn streak for which terriers are famous. Each one owned our hearts and yes, healed our hearts.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">If only we had a tail to wag.</div><div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=7e7c9684-d672-436f-88f6-086e7df0c0a5" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; float: right;" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-44747994746829248942011-11-02T10:14:00.000-07:002011-11-03T09:10:18.656-07:00Wedded bliss...for only $10,000 an hour.<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">One of my favorite jokes is about the 3rd grade teacher who asks her students whom they consider to be the most important person in history.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Little Susie raises her hand and answers, “Abraham Lincoln, he was a great man because he freed the slaves.” Jimmie blurts out, “Plato, because he was a philosopher and he started the very first school.”</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The teacher, Mrs. Ellicott replies, "Those are very good answers, does anyone else have someone in mind?" That’s when Robert raises his hand and replies, “Yes, the most important person in history was Jesus Christ.”</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Mrs. Ellicott smiles. “Robert that was the answer I was looking for. But I’m surprised. As a Jewish boy I wouldn’t think that would be your answer.” “Yeah, everybody knows it was Moses, but business is business.”</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gDp9U4pQ4Vg/TrF0O0CXOOI/AAAAAAAAAc8/SPwqMoAlVV0/s1600/Kiam.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ida="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gDp9U4pQ4Vg/TrF0O0CXOOI/AAAAAAAAAc8/SPwqMoAlVV0/s1600/Kiam.png" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Years ago, I met Victor Kiam. He’s the man who liked the <a href="http://www.remingtonproducts.com/">Remington Razor</a> so much he bought the company. He also bought the <a href="http://www.patriots.com/">New England Patriots</a> in 1988. A rather colorful man, Mr. Kiam was bemoaning the fact that his Patriots were a terrible football team. Looking to brighten the moment, I suggested at the very least Mr. Kiam was making money. Are you kidding me? I’m losing $10 million dollars a year on these guys,” said Mr. Kiam. Why then, I wondered aloud, do you even own the team? His reply? “Because I bought them for $84 million, I’ll lose another 30 million and sell them for $150 million. And that son is how you make money.” Thus, the basis for one of Mr. Kiam’s <a href="http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/v/victor_kiam.html">famous quotes</a>: “Even if you fall on your face, you're still moving forward.”</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">While a great businessman, Mr. Kiam’s math didn’t work out very well. In 1992 he sold his share of the Patriots for $23.5 million to a wealthier man who also assumed the team’s $45 million in debt and an additional $38 million owed to another minority partner. Eight years later, <a href="http://www.tombrady.com/">Tom Brady</a> came along. Timing is everything.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Admittedly, losing $10 million a year is a staggering number, but it pales to comparison to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kim_Kardashian">Kim Kardashian</a>. She lost more than $10 million in 72 days. Don’t feel sorry for her, she’s still worth more than $35 million. And Kim’s soon to be ex-husband, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kris_Humphries">Kris Humphries</a>, makes an average of $2.5 million per season in the NBA (if they ever settle the current NBA lock-out). After 7 years in the league Humphries has managed to hang on to about $8 million. Clearly, he’s the more practical of the two. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SMX5HJ_MJWA/TrF0Mjy79uI/AAAAAAAAAc0/2Ke3njPFj7E/s1600/Crystal.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180px" ida="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SMX5HJ_MJWA/TrF0Mjy79uI/AAAAAAAAAc0/2Ke3njPFj7E/s320/Crystal.png" width="320px" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">But it gets better. Kim and Kris get to keep the wedding gifts. ABC News reported the couple's <a href="http://abcnews.go.com/Entertainment/kim-kardashians-outrageous-wedding-registry/story?id=13845942">wedding registry</a> requested items like a <a href="http://www.baccarat.com/">Baccarat</a> Cosmos vase valued at $7,850. There’s also the “Havana” crystal ashtray, reasonably priced at $840. I should note neither of the couple smokes, but you never know who’s coming for dinner at the Kardashian’s. If you’re looking for something more affordable, choose from two <a href="http://www.cristallalique.fr/v2/english.html">Lalique</a> nudes at $325 each and Lalique's "Wisdom" set of three "See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil" figurines, priced at $735 though they're only three inches high. If you’re really on a budget, the least expensive item in the registry was a $12.50 cloth napkin. But I think you need to buy at least six to get a table at the reception. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k4nqHQs0WCU/TrF0Rneqr7I/AAAAAAAAAdE/EEvtwcoVcmg/s1600/Kim+%2526+Kris.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="176px" ida="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k4nqHQs0WCU/TrF0Rneqr7I/AAAAAAAAAdE/EEvtwcoVcmg/s200/Kim+%2526+Kris.jpg" width="200px" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Hold on. There’s more. Reportedly, Kim earned $17.9 million in broadcast rights for the four hour wedding extravaganza. <a href="file:///C:/Users/Ed/Documents/Word/Blogs/:%20http:/www.foxnews.com/entertainment/2011/11/02/everyone-wins-from-kardashian-divorce-except-their-wedding-guests/#ixzz1cYsmoJvY">Fox News</a> estimates the couple was paid a little over $10,000 per hour of wedded bliss. If the courts rule the income was part of the marriage, then California’s 50/50 split gives Humphries half of the broadcast fee after Kim’s Mom, Kris Jenner takes her 10% commission for negotiating the deal. Did I mention <a href="http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/45107601/ns/today-books/">Kris Jenner </a>has a book coming out today? Timing is everything.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">In January of 2001 I was smitten by a beautiful red haired woman. It was love at first sight. For me. She required considerable convincing. One evening, shortly after we'd met, we were having drinks with a group of friends at a restaurant and the woman, not knowing I was already emotionally committed to her, said, “I’ve already married for love. The next time I marry it’ll be for money.” I was devastated, but I didn’t give up. After a courtship and engagement that was somewhat longer than the 4 months Kim was willing to wait, we were married. I didn’t get my wife a 20.5 carat engagement ring and I think the Justice of the Peace charged me $40 for the ceremony. Dinner and drinks for a few close friends at a local Tex-Mex Restaurant was another $200 and my bride's dress set her back $40. Almost ten years later we’re still going strong. Some businessman I am. Our average hourly rate of wedded bliss is less than a tenth of a cent. But some things are priceless. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C-BLMqGcinw/TrF5UL3PMGI/AAAAAAAAAdU/8dX7PqDWwGc/s1600/Howie.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150px" ida="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C-BLMqGcinw/TrF5UL3PMGI/AAAAAAAAAdU/8dX7PqDWwGc/s200/Howie.png" width="200px" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">To paraphrase Deal or No Deal’s <a href="http://www.howiemandel.com/">Howie Mandel</a>, “I made a great deal.” Victor Kiam and Kim Kardashian picked the wrong case. But business is business and everyone knows timing is everything. So, to Kim and Kris, I lift a $350 <a href="http://na.wwrd.com/ae/us/icat/waterford?utm_source=adwords&utm_medium=cpc&utm_campaign=Waterford+-+SL+-+Waterford+Crystal&utm_extra=dim1/Waterford+Crystal+(E)//dim2/Exact&utm_term=waterford+crystal">Waterford </a>Goblet and offer a toast: maybe next time.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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<a href="http://www.about.me/edscarborough"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wnaod0eWkpk/TWVDE81rM-I/AAAAAAAAAGE/n0DvZodiWMM/s200/About+Me-1.png" /></a></div><div class="zemanta-related"><h6 class="zemanta-related-title" style="font-size: 1em; margin: 1em 0px 0px;">Related articles</h6><ul class="zemanta-article-ul" sizcache="7700" sizset="0"><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://popwatch.ew.com/2011/10/31/kim-kardashian-divorce-by-the-numbers/">Kim-Kris kaput: By the numbers</a> (popwatch.ew.com)</li>
<li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://r.zemanta.com/?u=http%3A//www.ctv.ca/CTVNews/Entertainment/20111101/kim-kardashian-111101/&a=60696150&rid=57695c13-faac-4c93-8bac-3784f213d28e&e=82122ae714426ed12900189c2bcd5d05">5 reasons the Kardashian-Humphries union was doomed</a> (ctv.ca)</li>
<li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://perezhilton.com/2011-11-01-kim-kardashian-wedding-made-no-money-kris-jenner-claims">Kris Jenner Claims Kim Didn't "Make A Dime" From Her Wedding To Kris Humphries</a> (perezhilton.com)</li>
<li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://r.zemanta.com/?u=http%3A//www.cnn.com/2011/11/01/showbiz/celebrity-news-gossip/kim-kardashian-kris-humphries-divorce/index.html&a=60713344&rid=57695c13-faac-4c93-8bac-3784f213d28e&e=b8494e4ad086ebacffe9673b5ea23adf">Kardashian divorce: Are you surprised?</a> (cnn.com)</li>
<li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://www.mtv.com/news/articles/1673495/kim-kardashian-kris-humphries-money.jhtml">Kim Kardashian And Kris Humphries: By The Numbers</a> (mtv.com)</li>
<li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://www.foxnews.com/entertainment/2011/11/02/everyone-wins-from-kardashian-divorce-except-their-wedding-guests/">Everyone Wins From Kardashian Divorce, Except Their Wedding Guests</a> (foxnews.com)</li>
<li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://kymx.radio.com/2011/10/31/kim-kardashiankris-humphries-its-over/">Kim Kardashian/Kris Humphries...It's OVER!</a> (kymx.radio.com)</li>
<li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://www.philly.com/r?19=961&43=165761&44=132964903&32=3796&7=195202&40=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.philly.com%2Fphilly%2Fnews%2F20111101_Tattle__After_72_days__Kim_kisses_Kris_bye.html">Tattle: After 72 days, Kim kisses Kris bye</a> (philly.com)</li>
<li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://www.heatworld.com/Celeb-News/2011/10/Breaking-News-Kim-Kardashian-to-file-for-divorce/">Breaking News: Kim Kardashian to file for divorce</a> (heatworld.com)</li>
</ul></div><div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=57695c13-faac-4c93-8bac-3784f213d28e" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; float: right;" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-82556279059023856412011-10-16T11:06:00.000-07:002011-10-16T20:49:55.318-07:00It's Just That Simple...(If only)For someone who lives by the power of words, I find I have little to say these days. And, truth to be told, many times I find it better to remain silent than to share my views for fear of being attacked by the piranhas of disagreement.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fk97Sdu21Mk/TpsW5a0ywyI/AAAAAAAAAag/pDO8QkvTobY/s1600/lennon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200px" oda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fk97Sdu21Mk/TpsW5a0ywyI/AAAAAAAAAag/pDO8QkvTobY/s200/lennon.jpg" width="195px" /></a></div>In “Give Peace A Chance” John Lennon wrote a verse about Bagism, Shagism, Dragism, Madism, Ragism, and Tagism. Today, I wonder if he would change his lyric to “Conservatism, Liberalism, Socialism, Capitalism, Racism, Atheism, and Evangelism.” By the way, there are 887 words in the English language ending with “ism” according to<a href="http://www.morewords.com/ends-with/ism/"> http://www.morewords.com/ends-with/ism/</a>. Somehow I don’t find it comforting that most every cause has an “ism” in its name. It’s probably not a coincidence that there are 1187 words that end with “ist”, including , socialist, capitalist, racist, atheist, and evangelist.<br />
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In today’s world, we’ve all become experts. We listen to talk shows, hear what the commentator says and his/her opinion becomes ours. We don’t think for ourselves anymore (or any less, I imagine); we just let someone else fuel our internal fires to help form our opinions. In statistics, there is always a way to twist the numbers to make your point. One can say the candidate came in dead last; the other can say he finished second in a two man race. For every fact blaming Obama for our economic woes I’ll bet we can easily find a similar fact laying this mess on the previous administration. One economist will say America got into trouble with Bush tax cuts; another will say our economy grew during the Clinton years when we had higher taxes. Both arguments ignore regulation/deregulation (neither of which is inherently evil), or the failure to close the loopholes of those policies allowing World Greed to fester.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hL4aGB-Ny9Y/TpsWtJd9W-I/AAAAAAAAAaY/Pt_FEXmEeOQ/s1600/igloo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150px" oda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hL4aGB-Ny9Y/TpsWtJd9W-I/AAAAAAAAAaY/Pt_FEXmEeOQ/s200/igloo.jpg" width="200px" /></a></div>Here’s a simple solution, suggested by a “friend” on Facebook: <em><strong>“If you are starving, you go where the food is. If you need a job and can't find one, move to where the jobs are. It's just that simple.”</strong></em> Now, why didn’t I think of that? Suppose I’m an igloo maker in Alaska and we have an unseasonably warm decade (I wouldn’t dare call it Global Warming); I’ll just move to Texas where the jobs are (as Governor Perry insists) and build igloos in Houston. The only problem is the<a href="http://www.igloocoolers.com/jobs"> Igloo Factory</a> just outside of Houston only has 21 openings and all require bilingual candidates. Anyone see a problem with that?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UZshFZWKdrs/TpsWpVis-MI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/lPk7FYTZIW4/s1600/igloo" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200px" oda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UZshFZWKdrs/TpsWpVis-MI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/lPk7FYTZIW4/s200/igloo" width="200px" /></a></div>I replied to the Facebook post, <strong><em>“isn’t that a bit simplistic?”</em></strong> Then, another person responded with, <em><strong>“Simplistic? There are millions of people who refuse to leave their "home town" because "that’s where they've always lived.” Therefore they stay on unemployment for 99 + weeks. When it is time for guys to find new employment, we move from North Dakota to Texas ... and to the east or west coast if necessary. You have to go where the job is! Sitting on your ass because you are "home" isn't an option. "Home" is wherever you end up.”</strong></em> <br />
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Based on this reasoning, if I’m unemployed but my wife is working, I should stop sitting on my lazy ass, learn Spanish, and move to Texas. Fortunately, I’m already here. But I confess that I haven’t started my Spanish lessons. <br />
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Here are some numbers for my "simple solution" friend to consider:<br />
<ul><li>National unemployed rate: 9.6%</li>
<li>14 million Americans are currently looking for work</li>
<li>6 million Americans have been unemployed for more than six months</li>
<li>Nearly 1 in three Americans are unemployed for more than a year (<a href="http://blogs.wsj.com/economics/2011/06/03/nearly-1-in-3-unemployed-out-of-work-more-than-a-year/">Wall Street Journal</a>)</li>
<li>The unemployment rate for over-55s is at the highest level since 1948. (<a href="http://minnesotaindependent.com/60314/age-discrimination-plagues-the-long-term-unemployed">Minnesota Ind</a>.)</li>
<li>During the 8 years of the most recent Bush Administration 3 million jobs were created. (<a href="http://blogs.wsj.com/economics/2009/01/09/bush-on-jobs-the-worst-track-record-on-record/">Wall Street Journal</a>). (To his credit, Reagan created 16 million jobs).</li>
<li>During the 8 years of the Clinton Administration 21 million jobs were created. (<a href="http://blogs.wsj.com/economics/2009/01/09/bush-on-jobs-the-worst-track-record-on-record/">Wall Street Journal</a>).</li>
<li>To get our economy back on track, we need to create 261,200 jobs per month over the next five years to get to pre-recession levels (<a href="http://www.zerohedge.com/news/us-needs-generate-261200-jobs-month-return-pre-depression-employment-end-obama-second-term">Zerohedge</a>)(<a href="http://wealthcycles.com/blog/2011/10/07/an-everlasting-need-for-job-creation">Wealth Cycle)</a>.</li>
</ul>Clearly, our educational system is in more trouble than we realize. 14 million "lazy" Americans haven’t figured out that all we need to do is move to where the jobs are. Quick. Get me the number for <a href="http://www.mayflower.com/">Mayflower </a>or <a href="http://www.unitedvanlines.com/">United Van Lines</a>, better yet; <a href="http://www.uhaul.com/">U-Haul</a>. It’s just that simple.<br />
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<div></div><div><a href="http://www.about.me/edscarborough"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wnaod0eWkpk/TWVDE81rM-I/AAAAAAAAAGE/n0DvZodiWMM/s200/About+Me-1.png" /></a></div><div class="zemanta-related"><h6 class="zemanta-related-title" style="font-size: 1em; margin: 1em 0px 0px;">Related articles</h6><ul class="zemanta-article-ul"><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://www.businessinsider.com/need-a-job-move-to-north-dakota-2011-10">Need A Job? Move To North Dakota</a> (businessinsider.com)</li>
<li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://politicalwire.com/archives/2011/10/14/why_anita_perry_has_sympathy_for_the_unemployed.html">Why Anita Perry Has Sympathy for the Unemployed</a> (politicalwire.com)</li>
<li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://blogs.nature.com/news/2011/10/scientists_confront_perry_admi.html">Scientists confront Perry administration over censorship in Texas</a> (blogs.nature.com)</li>
<li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://thedaleygator.wordpress.com/2011/09/14/president-asshats-jobs-bill-makes-it-illegal-to-discriminate-against-unemployed/">President Asshat's "Jobs" Bill Makes It Illegal To Discriminate Against Unemployed</a> (thedaleygator.wordpress.com)<a href="http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052970203633104576625394224701656.html">Any Advice for the Long-Term Unemployed?'</a> (online.wsj.com)</li>
</ul></div><div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=ef7fd840-5b3e-4293-bc0c-df984bad0b74" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; float: right;" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-28051993139743444202011-09-09T11:43:00.000-07:002011-09-09T11:43:06.190-07:00Political Dodge Ball<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">On Wednesday evening, I watched several <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Republican_Party_%28United_States%29_presidential_candidates%2C_2008" rel="wikipedia" title="Republican Party (United States) presidential candidates, 2008">Republican Presidential candidates</a> engage in a spirited debate. Actually, in retrospect, that’s what I tuned in to watch; what I got was a discourse in “he said-she said” political dodge ball. Governor Romney took shots at Governor Perry, Perry returned fire and Michelle Bachmann stood glassy eyed to the side. Several of the candidates were completely unfamiliar to me, but seemed to have the same “I can create jobs” response that was the standard answer to the evening. The other stock answer, of course, was “I can fix Social Security”, or a Tea Party variation, I’ll stop Social Security; it’s just part of big government.</div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VkSxPiYiEBg/TmpVZAPTvXI/AAAAAAAAAXU/09pZb87de0Y/s1600/RonPaul.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="120px" nba="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VkSxPiYiEBg/TmpVZAPTvXI/AAAAAAAAAXU/09pZb87de0Y/s200/RonPaul.jpg" width="200px" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Representative Ron Paul scares the dickens out of me, his answer is just let everything flow to its own natural level. He actually suggested we remove all banking regulations, because, if bankers know there will be no bailouts, they’ll be more honest. Seriously?</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The former Governor of Utah, John Huntsman appeared deep, philosophical, and a statesman. In the business world, we would refer to <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jon_Huntsman%2C_Jr." rel="wikipedia" title="Jon Huntsman, Jr.">Governor Huntsman</a> as an “empty suit”. I believe we have that wardrobe well filled with the current resident of the White House. <a href="http://www.ricksantorum.com/">Senator Rick Santorum</a> of Pennsylvania had nothing to say and took too long to say it. Exit left. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--I64TCtjeDo/TmpVQVm6liI/AAAAAAAAAXE/oiovRuoDA7U/s1600/HermanCain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="152px" nba="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--I64TCtjeDo/TmpVQVm6liI/AAAAAAAAAXE/oiovRuoDA7U/s200/HermanCain.jpg" width="200px" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Here’s what really struck home: Georgia businessman <a class="zem_slink" href="http://answers.com/topic/herman-cain#Gale_Contemporary_Black_Biography_d" rel="answerscom" title="Herman Cain">Herman Cain</a> addressed problems with solutions, rather than the general political rhetoric of Romney and Perry; yet he has been dismissed as an irrelevant candidate. <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Newt_Gingrich" rel="wikipedia" title="Newt Gingrich">Newt Gingrich</a>, former Speaker of the House, also had actionable plans to fix some of our nation’s problems. He, too, was pretty much ignored by the moderators. The battle is clearly between Romney and Perry. Unless <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/campaigns/sarah-palins-waiting-game-on-presidential-race-continues/2011/09/05/gIQAGr0b4J_story.html">Sarah Palin</a> believes she can grab more headlines by teasing us with her candidacy. Palin dismisses the fact she is America’s most polarizing candidate; with the highest negativity ratings of any of the candidates; she’s selling books.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I1rLhCAoTic/TmpVO2ao5FI/AAAAAAAAAXA/1ArPmHssoKI/s1600/Perry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200px" nba="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I1rLhCAoTic/TmpVO2ao5FI/AAAAAAAAAXA/1ArPmHssoKI/s200/Perry.jpg" width="161px" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">There are many more debates to be held and more political dodge ball to be played. Over time most of the candidates will shoot themselves in the foot. Perry, most likely, will be one of the first, since he tends to carry a weapon when he jogs. Perry, I thought, made a major error when he dismissed global warming as part of his dismissal of the notion we have contributed to the problem with our emissions. I imagine he would hold to the belief that earth’s <a href="http://www.absoluteastronomy.com/topics/Ice_age">Ice Age</a> was also fiction, since there were no scientists available to prove or disprove the fact the planet was frozen.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div sizcache="12185" sizset="0" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">How bad has our political process become? Recently former <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.rottentomatoes.com/celebrity/dick_cheney" rel="rottentomatoes" title="Dick Cheney">Vice President Dick Cheney</a> suggested <a class="zem_slink" href="http://answers.com/topic/barack-obama#Gale_Contemporary_Black_Biography_d" rel="answerscom" title="Barack Obama">Barack Obama</a>, for the good of the party, step aside and let <a href="http://abcnews.go.com/blogs/politics/2011/09/dick-cheney-to-hillary-clinton-run/">Hillary Clinton</a> seek the Democratic nomination. Did Cheney actually suggest the most competent politician of our time is a Democrat?</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div sizcache="12171" sizset="0" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The bitter regurgitation of our political culture has paralyzed our nation. Last night, the President gave his <a href="http://www.americanjobsact.com/">American Jobs Act</a> speech. The disrespect shown him by several Republican legislators was treasonous, if I may borrow <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rick_Perry" rel="wikipedia" title="Rick Perry">Rick Perry</a>’s use of the word. These elected officials didn’t feel they needed to hear suggestions to fix our unemployment crisis. I hope their constituents don’t feel the need to cast their votes for them at the next election. Let them get a first hand lesson in unemployment. And while the President “attacked” the political circus, he became the ringmaster by referring to the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.gop.com/" rel="homepage" title="Republican Party (United States)">Republican Party</a> 18 times in his speech. To me, it was a George Bush “<a href="http://www.usatoday.com/news/world/iraq/2003-07-02-bush-iraq-troops_x.htm">bring it on</a>” moment. The ideas he presented, he proudly noted, had bipartisan support. Then please explain why they haven’t been enacted. And while the President attacked business loopholes that allow companies to avoid federal taxes, the CEO of <a href="http://abcnews.go.com/Politics/general-electric-paid-federal-taxes-2010/story?id=13224558">General Electric</a> sat next to the First Lady. GE has been the poster child for the tax “evasion” tactic, reportedly paying $0 in federal taxes last year.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Fr7uViz2gcQ/TmpXFZX7mrI/AAAAAAAAAXY/vEHK40mns20/s1600/obama.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="134px" nba="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Fr7uViz2gcQ/TmpXFZX7mrI/AAAAAAAAAXY/vEHK40mns20/s200/obama.png" width="200px" /></a></div><div sizcache="11083" sizset="0" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">A final thought. There’s an old business adage that says it takes money to make money. A loose translation would suggest if I spend money, someone will make money. I firmly believe in supporting small business, but if I have no money to spend for their products or services, we’ve just made another bad loan. The President proposed <a href="http://www.politico.com/news/stories/0911/62720.html">extending unemployment benefits</a> and giving businesses tax credits for hiring people who have endured long term unemployment. That’s a Catch-22. If I were running a business and had plans to expand, I might consider putting the entire project on hold. Why hire now if I can get tax credits in six months when Congress considers some form of the proposal? For that matter, perhaps I’ll wait until gas prices fall to under <a href="http://content.usatoday.com/communities/driveon/post/2011/09/michele-bachmann-genius-2-a-gallon-gasoline/1">$2 a gallon</a> before my next fill-up.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">America is crying out for leadership. Is the Congress so selfish they will sacrifice the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=38.8833333333,-77.0166666667&spn=10.0,10.0&q=38.8833333333,-77.0166666667 (United%20States)&t=h" rel="geolocation" title="United States">American</a> work force to defeat President Obama next November? I think many of us agree President Obama has failed to meet our expectations. But he certainly got one thing right last night: the next election is 14 months away and we can’t wait that long for solutions.</div><div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=fe622145-8b56-416c-bd36-bb584504302d" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; float: right;" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-18110161248342696632011-08-08T16:21:00.000-07:002011-08-08T17:52:21.568-07:00Where Are Your Manners?<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jqPfQktuzxg/TkBsyRRobPI/AAAAAAAAASc/OsZqMSAHrWY/s1600/dog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="152px" naa="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jqPfQktuzxg/TkBsyRRobPI/AAAAAAAAASc/OsZqMSAHrWY/s200/dog.jpg" width="200px" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Over the past several years I’ve had to develop some relatively “thick skin”. After receiving several hundred rejections to job <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Application_software" rel="wikipedia" title="Application software">applications</a>, “thick skin” pretty much becomes a necessity of survival and sanity. On rare occasions, when I actually get in front of a hiring manager, one of the questions often asked is, “how do you handle rejection?” I have to be careful how I answer, because I wouldn’t want someone to think I’ve given up the hunt and accepted rejection. I want them to know there’s still a lot of hunt left in this old’ dog. So I usually make a light-hearted quip regarding the need to deal with the disappointment and then move on to the next opportunity. Since I haven’t had too many offers, perhaps my answer isn’t as tactful as I’d like to think.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2NU92H96f50/TkBs7s2I2oI/AAAAAAAAASk/BuuthasZyLM/s1600/stamp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; height: 173px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; width: 140px;"><img border="0" height="200px" naa="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2NU92H96f50/TkBs7s2I2oI/AAAAAAAAASk/BuuthasZyLM/s200/stamp.jpg" width="174px" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Some companies send very nice rejection letters. They’re careful to say that they have found other candidates more qualified in this specific discipline and wish me the best of luck in my future endeavors. I’m not kidding myself, I know a <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Form_letter" rel="wikipedia" title="Form letter">form letter</a> when I get one, but it’s still nice to be acknowledged. Someone had to lick the stamp.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Other companies handle rejection differently; they simply fail to acknowledge they received your application. It’s probably part of an austerity program, if they don’t acknowledge the application, they don’t have to waste money sending a rejection. With thousands of applications for the lowest of positions, postage adds-up. I understand that, but perhaps they should consider how much an <a href="http://www.makeuseof.com/tag/create-an-automatic-email-response-with-gmails-new-filter/">automated email response</a> would cost.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">In a sense, I’d rather get a form letter or be ignored than receive an ugly <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Letter_%28message%29" rel="wikipedia" title="Letter (message)">rejection letter</a>. One of the most valuable lessons I learned while working for <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.cbs.com/" rel="homepage" title="CBS">CBS</a> was how to give people bad news. Even then, the Company knew tact in the dismissal/rejection process would become a frequently practiced skill, soon to be emulated by fine companies like <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.clearchannel.com/" rel="homepage" title="Clear Channel Communications">Clear Channel</a>, Cox, and Cumulus. (Perhaps the moral of the story is never work for a <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Company" rel="wikipedia" title="Company">company</a> that starts with a “C”). When I had to terminate someone, I made sure they understood why (assuming I understood – many were cram-downs); and I made sure they left with some dignity and the knowledge I wouldn’t “burn” them with a bad reference.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ksSBcFKbLgQ/TkBsw-EaSPI/AAAAAAAAASY/r_6IKTme_KA/s1600/basket.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" naa="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ksSBcFKbLgQ/TkBsw-EaSPI/AAAAAAAAASY/r_6IKTme_KA/s1600/basket.jpg" /></a>When air talent sent demos for consideration, even if I thought the talent was horrible, I would thank them for their information; explain there were no current openings for which I felt they would be a good fit and that I could keep their information on file for future appropriate opportunities. And then, yes, I would carefully place their material into my circular file. Just under the desk. The custodian would come every night and file it for me, alphabetically by last name, I think.<br />
<br />
But yesterday, on a Sunday, no less, I received the ugliest rejection letter I’ve ever seen. I really shouldn’t call it a letter. It was a word. “NO”. This thoughtful reply certainly told me I wouldn’t want to work for this man under any circumstances. Truthfully, I was offended by this two letter response. I put more than 45 minutes into a customized <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cover_letter" rel="wikipedia" title="Cover letter">cover letter</a> explaining my qualifications for the job and he managed to respond in a second. That’s assuming he’s a “hunt and pecker” typist. If he’s an average typist, just reduce my description of “hunt and pecker” by the first two words. It would have been far better had this man simply not acknowledged my application.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3YiokjYq5Xg/TkBs41N0uJI/AAAAAAAAASg/D6pMQg2VeJs/s1600/typewriter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="147px" naa="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3YiokjYq5Xg/TkBs41N0uJI/AAAAAAAAASg/D6pMQg2VeJs/s200/typewriter.jpg" width="200px" /></a>I’m tempted to write several proper and thoughtful rejections in a generic voice, so that he could use them for future applications. But if his Mama didn’t teach him any <a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/manners">manners</a>, I’m sure an email from me saying, “try one of these” next time would only cause this man to kick his dog, or, perhaps one of his employees for whom I have deep empathy.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Perhaps I should give this man the benefit of doubt, and think of his response as a simple “typo”. After all, “NO” is part of “NOTE”. Maybe he simply hit “send” before he had finished typing his note. If that’s the case, would it be wrong for me to respond with:</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Dear Mr. Higgins,</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I’m sure you meant “NO Thank You”? </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.about.me/edscarborough" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="52px" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wnaod0eWkpk/TWVDE81rM-I/AAAAAAAAAGE/n0DvZodiWMM/s200/About+Me-1.png" width="200px" /></a></div><br />
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<div></div><img height="96px" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ksSBcFKbLgQ/TkBsw-EaSPI/AAAAAAAAASY/r_6IKTme_KA/s1600/basket.jpg" style="filter: alpha(opacity=30); left: 104px; mozopacity: 0.3; opacity: 0.3; position: absolute; top: 208px; visibility: hidden;" width="66px" /> <br />
<div class="zemanta-pixie" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=17a13f53-64f5-4422-89e6-227491c04c3e" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; float: right;" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-45867068039439434642011-07-17T15:57:00.000-07:002011-07-31T09:53:07.255-07:00Start up - Shut down<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QaB3WQbmHs0/TiNe50vIltI/AAAAAAAAAKY/GWJeBeL0Mp4/s1600/Lombard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><strong><img border="0" height="200px" m$="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QaB3WQbmHs0/TiNe50vIltI/AAAAAAAAAKY/GWJeBeL0Mp4/s200/Lombard.jpg" width="131px" /></strong></a><strong>“A bend in the road is not the end of the road... unless you fail to make the turn.” - </strong>author unknown</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">For the past two years, the road I’ve been navigating has made <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=37.7793,-122.4192&spn=0.1,0.1&q=37.7793,-122.4192%20(San%20Francisco)&t=h" rel="geolocation" title="San Francisco">San Francisco’s</a> Lombard Street look like a straight line. But instead of writing about the continuing saga of finding steady employment, I want to share some observations made over the past three months while working for an entrepreneur and his start-up venture, “PK Interactive” or pki.net. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The mission was to sell the digital platforms (that’s tech-speak for web, blog, <a class="zem_slink" href="http://facebook.com/" rel="homepage" title="Facebook">Facebook</a>, <a class="zem_slink" href="http://twitter.com/" rel="homepage" title="Twitter">Twitter</a> & podcasts) for a nationally known radio host. <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Public_key_infrastructure" rel="wikipedia" title="Public key infrastructure">PKI</a> was seeking someone with sales experience who would be comfortable picking up the phone and “cold calling” potential clients. It was clear I wasn’t the perfect candidate. Still, with personal funds at stake, the entrepreneur took a chance on me and I will be forever grateful to him.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yrkDcwWaaiI/TiNgf06J_lI/AAAAAAAAAKg/P83VQ40zrQA/s1600/PKI.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" m$="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yrkDcwWaaiI/TiNgf06J_lI/AAAAAAAAAKg/P83VQ40zrQA/s320/PKI.jpg" width="105px" /></a>The boss was a big thinker, so I thought big, too. Rather than concentrate on small accounts, I went after the big guns like <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.pg.com/" rel="homepage" title="Procter & Gamble">Procter and Gamble</a>, Overstock.com, and Zappos Shoes. In broadcast language, I became a national sales manager, and targeted every conceivable category that would want to reach the audience our client attracted. As our client reached older adults, I reached out to healthcare companies, travel and cruise companies, financial institutions, pharmaceuticals, supplements, and cosmetics. That’s when the real learning process started.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I quickly discovered that major clients don’t just have one advertising contact, they have several. There’s an agency for Out of Home (OOH), broadcast, print, creative, and digital. Often, one agency has no idea of what the other agency is doing and though I could sell both broadcast and digital, it often meant trying to coordinate with two agencies. Many media buyers simply ignored me, some took the time to direct me to the appropriate decision maker and some were kind enough to explain how the game works to this self-admitted rookie. I listened, I asked questions, researched demographic and geographical targeting, developed strategies for my outreach program and I started selling. But I knew that I wasn’t generating nearly enough income to keep the company rolling (let alone pay my bills). I knew we were being sustained by the boss’s personal funds and the hope of landing a few more major clients.</div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DWID2AK4cWU/TiNe8w3eguI/AAAAAAAAAKc/ChayPE2jdb4/s1600/googleyeyes96.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" m$="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DWID2AK4cWU/TiNe8w3eguI/AAAAAAAAAKc/ChayPE2jdb4/s1600/googleyeyes96.png" /></a>It didn’t happen. And after six months, PKI closed up shop. But there is no anger in my words, only gratitude. I was allowed to grow outside of my comfort zone. I was allowed to learn some new technologies. And I had the privilege of working alongside some of the most talent and professional young adults I have ever encountered. I was energized when I was around them. The culture of PKI was like many radio stations. Laughter in the hallways, noontime lunch treks, after hour’s drinks and lots of texting, Facebook chats and camaraderie. There were no hallway gripe sessions, no idle gossip, and if someone said “this is confidential” it stayed that way. These talented graphic artists, copy writers, IT geeks and code developers were half my age, but never considered me the “old man”. Well, if they did, they never said it out loud. We friended each other at work, on Facebook, Foursquare and even Google+. By the way, they are all looking for work, too.</div><br />
The only real difference between me and the rest of the crew was I wore Dockers to work every day and they wore jeans. Their work ethic was as professional as I have ever encountered. They were timely, focused, willing to stay late when needed and passionate about their craft and our clients. I never heard a temper tantrum and I never heard someone snap at another; I simply saw professionalism.<br />
<br />
The other difference was in the way we handled the news of our impending departure. As a baby boomer, stability is always on my mind and I was immediately concerned about keeping a roof over my head. The PKI crew? They just appreciated the great ride they had over the past six months. I’m not suggesting I always thought in terms of a career and these young men and women are seeking only jobs. They just have a different view of what constitutes a career and I think because of that, they enjoy life more than me and my fellow boomers.<br />
<br />
PKI was staffed with as diverse of a group of individuals as you’d ever meet:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">• <strong>Robert</strong>, the boss. Visionary. Always twenty moves ahead.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">• <strong>Roy</strong>. <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chief_financial_officer" rel="wikipedia" title="Chief financial officer">CFO</a>. I lost count how many times he brought bagels or tacos to work. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">• <strong>Chuckles</strong>, always looking for an excuse to party. If he couldn't find one he'd start one.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">• <strong>Dr. Love</strong>, his running gag was to ignore his <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=43.0,-75.0&spn=3.0,3.0&q=43.0,-75.0%20(New%20York)&t=h" rel="geolocation" title="New York">New York</a> upbringing and claim Guatemalan Citizenship. He also knows more Yiddish than I ever will. Poor guy, I’d point to a spot on his shirt, he’d look down, and I’d tweak his nose. Got him about 4 times.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">• <strong>The Venezuelan</strong>, with the largest collection of uploaded music I’ve ever seen.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">• <strong>Nacho</strong> the office Mom – juggling career and kids.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">• <strong>K-So</strong> with a kind word for everyone.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">• <strong>Jesse</strong> – we never did come up with a nickname for her. She brought me a souvenir from her trip to Spain that I will always treasure. She knew me for all of a week and still thought to bring me something.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">• <strong>Kristen</strong>, the cheerleader with the “can-do” attitude and the first to arrive.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: left;">• <strong>Everett</strong> – a code writer who appreciated <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Trek" rel="wikipedia" title="Star Trek">Star Trek</a> for the classic lessons of life. I'm not sure anyone understood his philosophical commentary.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: left;">• <strong>Aamir</strong>, with the patience of a Saint. He needed it, because he dealt with the client every day.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">• <strong>Shay</strong>, the quiet one with a gleam of mischief in his eyes and a <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aloha_shirt" rel="wikipedia" title="Aloha shirt">Hawaiian shirt</a> on Fridays. He is an inspiring husband and father who drove to Austin every time his son played t-ball.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zK8KqXa1rEs/TiNiDcisFYI/AAAAAAAAAKk/kNNF6-88oe4/s1600/KungFu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160px" m$="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zK8KqXa1rEs/TiNiDcisFYI/AAAAAAAAAKk/kNNF6-88oe4/s200/KungFu.jpg" width="200px" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I learned from each and every one of these people. I was the “grasshopper” and they were the “master,” although I wonder if some would understand the Kung-Fu analogy (unless it was in the Panda version). As for their level of professionalism, even though our boss informed us of the company’s demise on Thursday, we all came back on Friday. Athough off payroll, I will go in on Monday to help make sure the transition of my accounts goes smoothly. I owe that to the boss. Apparently, several others feel that way, as they will be coming into the office on Monday as well. In fact, my friend Dr. Love has already texted that he’s bringing me some of his wife’s special Sunday night lamb dinner. By the way, I dubbed Jorge with that nickname because he handled the love department – customer service. And I’m going to save a bottle or two of my home brewed beer for him, although he will have to wait for another two weeks.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">These are the quality individuals I came to respect over the past several months and I will miss seeing them every day with their positive approach to life. I think my new friends would appreciate the words of <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ralph_Waldo_Emerson" rel="wikipedia" title="Ralph Waldo Emerson">Ralph Waldo Emerson</a>, “When it is dark enough, you can see the stars”. Brighter days are ahead, my friends. But you already know that.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.about.me/edscarborough" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="52" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wnaod0eWkpk/TWVDE81rM-I/AAAAAAAAAGE/n0DvZodiWMM/s200/About+Me-1.png" width="200" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=460da177-4fec-46c9-b92c-2d5b100a41fe" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; float: right;" /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-86824740834786793262011-07-05T11:15:00.000-07:002011-07-31T09:55:19.081-07:00Pass the Life Preserver<div class="MsoNormal" sizcache="31" sizset="0"><div sizcache="31" sizset="0"><span class="zemanta-img separator zemanta-action-dragged" sizcache="31" sizset="0"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:JohnDonne.jpg" style="clear: right; display: block; float: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="John Donne, one of the most famous Metaphysica..." height="240px" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/8/8f/JohnDonne.jpg" style="font-size: 0.8em;" width="197px" /></a><span class="zemanta-img-attribution" sizcache="31" sizset="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; width: 197px;">Image via <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:JohnDonne.jpg">Wikipedia</a></span></span>Poet John Donne once wrote, “No man is an island”. I’m not so sure he was right.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal">At a July 4<sup>th</sup> party with neighbors and friends, I pretty much felt like the odd man out. My fellow partiers are fully indoctrinated Texans. I, on the other hand, still have plenty of New England moderate liberalism flowing through my veins.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KeOFRc6zfEI/ThOmls2957I/AAAAAAAAAHc/BhBj3HAgui8/s1600/booth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133px" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KeOFRc6zfEI/ThOmls2957I/AAAAAAAAAHc/BhBj3HAgui8/s200/booth.jpg" width="200px" /></a><br />
Once upon a time, we were taught to vote for the best candidate. Today, we are drawn to the candidate who belongs to the “right” party. Right or wrong, on target or completely adrift is no longer relevant; only the party affiliation. <br />
<br />
America has been at war for more than ten years, authorized by both Republican and Democratic presidents and a legislative branch that authorized the expenses. Yet, one side of the debate has the audacity to blame the current President for the entire deficit and economic conundrum. More amazingly, as the President tries to tactfully back out of Afghanistan (the longest war in American History), there are politicians who want to keep spending on the war while reducing social programs at the expense of the American people. The endgame? We’ll continue to lag in education, we’ll continue to fall behind China and India with innovation and manufacturing, and we’ll wonder how our nation has become a Third World country.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sI7w_h1EhWM/ThOmkCFWBdI/AAAAAAAAAHY/4Et5M79wpK0/s1600/Chauncey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200px" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sI7w_h1EhWM/ThOmkCFWBdI/AAAAAAAAAHY/4Et5M79wpK0/s200/Chauncey.jpg" width="144px" /></a>It would be comical if it wasn’t so terrifying. Political factions, it would appear, would rather “bankrupt” the US government to avoid raising the debt limit. I understand their desire to reduce spending. Really, after being unemployed for 18 months, I still deal with my own mini-crisis. But I also understand that cutting expenses wasn’t enough; at some point I had to bring in extra revenue. Peter Sellers played a wonderful character, Chauncey Gardner, in the movie “Being There”. The farce of the movie was an intellectually challenged gardener used metaphors that politicians translated into brilliant economic philosophy. So, I suspect Chauncey would say, “to cut the blade of grass is not sufficient, one must water to encourage growth”.<br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-03UrcL57Qtc/ThOmipuSn5I/AAAAAAAAAHU/hm0Ypsz6Was/s1600/Dollar.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="147px" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-03UrcL57Qtc/ThOmipuSn5I/AAAAAAAAAHU/hm0Ypsz6Was/s200/Dollar.png" width="200px" /></a>Have you ever heard a politician say, “I don’t love my country?” I don’t think so. Yet, Republicans are threatening to plunge the government into bankruptcy, creating the potential for devastating long term effects on the US economy. Some experts say such an action (or inaction) could crash Wall Street and create a depression equal to the 1929 stock market crash. Where’s the love? The Democrats aren’t any better. They need to accept that budget cuts in key programs are critical to the success of restoring our out of balance debt. Republicans need to accept that some taxes and exemptions need to end.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Part of the problem is with our leadership. Even those of us who voted for Obama have been disappointed. He has stood on the sideline while Congress defended their side of the aisle. Once he got involved, it would appear after much cajoling, the message got out that he would be willing to make “tough” budget cuts if Congress would eliminate some major loopholes. A voice of reason? Not really, since the extreme left still won’t budge on certain cuts; and the extreme right doesn’t want to eliminate their beloved loopholes and offend their big business contributors.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
In the 2010 election, America sent a message to President Obama. Republicans felt they were vindicated with their victories throughout our nation. Yet, they are squandering their opportunity with petty bickering within their ranks. The coffee drinkers, the tea drinkers and those who like to “sweeten” their beverages with moderate compromise. The latter of course, attacked for their willingness to do what’s right for America.</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cFJWaPjSOX8/ThOmnR_6DpI/AAAAAAAAAHg/vHNbGF1xE6Q/s1600/Titanic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cFJWaPjSOX8/ThOmnR_6DpI/AAAAAAAAAHg/vHNbGF1xE6Q/s1600/Titanic.jpg" /></a>Here’s the really sad part, who wants to take a bet that from one of our highest election turnouts in 2008, the 2012 vote will be one of the lowest? What message will politicians take from this? No doubt they’ll tell us the message is heard, partisans of both parties are unhappy and not to worry, we’ll do more of the same.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">John Donne continued in his poem, “Because I am involved in mankind. And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”<span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></span> Pass the life preserver and pray we’re not aboard the Titanic.<br />
<a href="http://www.about.me/edscarborough"><img border="0" height="55" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--E4R9zJB2S4/TWVDH7t3bGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/uh4SB7Kc2lw/s200/About+ME-2.png" width="200" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-80096710676708116682011-03-21T15:23:00.000-07:002011-07-31T09:56:20.496-07:00The Art of Waiting<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m not very good at waiting for things. Everywhere I’ve worked there was always someone who would call me “Fast Eddie”. I had an Uncle Eddie. That was his name. Mine is Ed. I’d rather someone call me <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mister_Ed" rel="wikipedia" title="Mister Ed">Mr. Ed</a> than Fast Eddie. <a href="http://www.fasteddiesbilliards.com/">Fast Eddie’s</a> is a chain of <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Billiard_hall" rel="wikipedia" title="Billiard hall">pool halls</a> in <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=31.0,-100.0&spn=10.0,10.0&q=31.0,-100.0%20(Texas)&t=h" rel="geolocation" title="Texas">Texas</a> and <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=31.0,-92.0&spn=3.0,3.0&q=31.0,-92.0%20(Louisiana)&t=h" rel="geolocation" title="Louisiana">Louisiana</a>. But that’s a horse of another color.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Op3zbC5q290/TYfOawqeF5I/AAAAAAAAAGo/yIcoRPxFUfQ/s1600/voicemail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Op3zbC5q290/TYfOawqeF5I/AAAAAAAAAGo/yIcoRPxFUfQ/s1600/voicemail.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">One of the most difficult challenges I faced as a manager was waiting for things to get done. Supremely confident, at least on the surface, I always believed I could do things faster and better than the person I was assigning the task. Eventually, my supervisor challenged me to delegate, explaining the importance of not being spread too thin as corporate responsibilities increased. He was right of course, and over the years I found ways of twisting the waiting into what I would call “managerial follow-up”. That’s a fancy way of pushing people to get their task done sooner so I didn’t have to wait.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When I call customer support and find myself in the dreaded “queue” I punch every option on the keypad hoping to speak to a real person. I don’t want to wait and I don’t want to hear some automated voice telling me how important my call is and to please hold. If I were that important someone would have answered the phone. I was thrilled when doctors started calling their <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Waiting_room" rel="wikipedia" title="Waiting room">waiting room</a> a patient lounge and “<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/On-demand">on demand</a>” would be the great invention of all time if it would only work.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-9cclUjFx9Hw/TYfOW-KYwqI/AAAAAAAAAGg/wDc_9WiXToU/s1600/elevator.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-9cclUjFx9Hw/TYfOW-KYwqI/AAAAAAAAAGg/wDc_9WiXToU/s200/elevator.jpg" width="141" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I don’t like waiting in lines although I try to make the most of it by striking up a conversation with my "next-in-line" neighbor. For example, when was the last time you walked in and out of a <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tax_assessment" rel="wikipedia" title="Tax assessment">tax assessor</a>’s office or the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Department_of_Motor_Vehicles" rel="wikipedia" title="Department of Motor Vehicles">Department of Motor Vehicles</a>? It doesn’t happen. So I pass the time by talking politics, or pretending I’m a rocket scientist for <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=38.8830555556,-77.0163888889&spn=0.01,0.01&q=38.8830555556,-77.0163888889%20(NASA)&t=h" rel="geolocation" title="NASA">NASA</a> or a government official. The person next to me will never know and he/she might even have some bragging rights about meeting such a high level diplomat.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-bPdNwomrcMs/TYfOZRotxJI/AAAAAAAAAGk/V-J-9oNMIiQ/s1600/starbucks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-bPdNwomrcMs/TYfOZRotxJI/AAAAAAAAAGk/V-J-9oNMIiQ/s200/starbucks.jpg" width="150" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For some reason, I don’t mind talking to people while waiting for an elevator; but once we’re in the 4x4 cubicle, I’m staring at the numbers that glow with each floor. When I get tired of looking up, I’ll look down at my shoes. I’ll pass the time counting the “dings” and compare my count to the glowing lights. I’ve missed my stop more often than I care to admit.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-K_Sh30_MYQk/TYfOU-v6NfI/AAAAAAAAAGc/xvkHyQlxdis/s1600/Checkout2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-K_Sh30_MYQk/TYfOU-v6NfI/AAAAAAAAAGc/xvkHyQlxdis/s200/Checkout2.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Instant coffee isn’t fast enough for me. <a class="zem_slink" href="http://starbucks.com/" rel="homepage" title="Starbucks">Starbucks</a> is torture. A drive-through line? Perish the thought, especially after the battle of a mumbling order taker. Besides, it’s tough to read the menu options under that kind of pressure. Supermarket lines are probably the worst. I try not to shop at <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.thekrogerco.com/" rel="homepage" title="Kroger">Kroger</a>, because their “Express Lane” is for twenty items or less. <a href="http://www.heb.com/">HEB</a>’s “Express Lane” is ten items or less. Now stores are throwing a wrinkle into the equation with self-checkout. On the surface, it looks great. With only one or two items, I can zip in and out. Except I’ve yet to use one of those <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Self_checkout">self-service kiosks</a> without needing help from the one assistant responsible for all six machines. That’s five other people ahead of me and that means I’m once again, waiting.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Today, I’m expecting an email with a job offer. Make no mistake, “expecting” is a fancy word for “waiting”. Want to take a guess how I feel about that? Pretty damn good. Except, of course, for the waiting.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.about.me/edscarborough" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="52" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wnaod0eWkpk/TWVDE81rM-I/AAAAAAAAAGE/n0DvZodiWMM/s200/About+Me-1.png" width="200" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><br />
</span></div><div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;"><br />
<img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=16c8584d-6be5-4e8f-8ebd-07db9b8c6769" style="border: currentColor; float: right;" /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-17911883304022348782011-02-23T09:11:00.000-08:002011-02-23T09:28:17.620-08:00Circle of Life ("Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose")<div sizcache="4002" sizset="1" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I must confess, when I was a kid, I didn’t look forward to family gatherings. My parents would fondly reminisce with my aunts, uncles and cousins about the good old days; and as a well disciplined child, I would either sit and politely listen or find an excuse to go play in traffic.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gh9xYs6kAOQ/TWU6QALfwVI/AAAAAAAAAFs/NThVBIbeo6c/s1600/rockwell.jpg" imageanchor="1" sizcache="4002" sizset="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; height: 216px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; width: 156px;"><img border="0" height="200" j6="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gh9xYs6kAOQ/TWU6QALfwVI/AAAAAAAAAFs/NThVBIbeo6c/s200/rockwell.jpg" width="155" /></a></div><div sizcache="4319" sizset="0" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">When I became a young adult, with my own family, it got worse. My career took me away from my <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=44.2055555556,-70.306425&spn=3.0,3.0&q=44.2055555556,-70.306425 (New%20England)&t=h" rel="geolocation" title="New England">New England</a> roots and every few years I would return with my family to visit those same aunts and uncles. The conversation still consisted of fond memories; but a new dimension was added. As boasting rights, they would compare aches and pains. One had arthritis, another had a touch of gout (is that like being a little pregnant?), another had bursitis and there was the assortment of bunions, corns, dentures and dietary restrictions. It was painful. At dinner, conversation was more appropriate for the children. While we may be fine watching gory scenes from <a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/csi/">CSI</a> or <a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/criminal_minds/">Criminal Minds</a> during dinner hours, in those days we limited our dinner conversation to the price of groceries. My cousin Molly would complain about the price of a head of lettuce, my cousin Rae would note the cost of cucumbers and other relatives I could only identify by their sloppy, wet kisses were unhappy with the service they got at the gas station. Attendants were supposed to check the oil and tire pressure while they filled your tank.</div><div sizcache="4319" sizset="0" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div sizcache="4319" sizset="0" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D_bWUryaeVI/TWU4g_bIWAI/AAAAAAAAAFk/eqialIV-Y6Q/s1600/Veggies.jpg" imageanchor="1" sizcache="4002" sizset="2" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" j6="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D_bWUryaeVI/TWU4g_bIWAI/AAAAAAAAAFk/eqialIV-Y6Q/s200/Veggies.jpg" width="200" /></a>The irony is I have become what I hated. French novelist Alphonse Karr once wrote, "Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose." For those of us who don't speak French, the translation states "The more things change, the more they stay the same." (In full disclosure, I found this quote on Bing. I heard it once on an Association Live album; and later the line was used by Kurt Russell in Escape From LA).<br />
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When I travel to a new city, the first thing I do is check out the prices in the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grocery_store" rel="wikipedia" title="Grocery store">grocery store</a>. I actually read the grocery store inserts and compare prices between the supermarket chains. HEB, Kroger, occasionally Randall’s will earn my business. I don’t like shopping for groceries at <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=36.3641666667,-94.2163888889&spn=0.01,0.01&q=36.3641666667,-94.2163888889 (Wal-Mart)&t=h" rel="geolocation" title="Wal-Mart">Wal-Mart</a> or <a href="http://www.target.com/">Target</a>. I have a problem putting my food on the same check-out line with engine oil and bicycle tires. And I find myself constantly telling my children the same stories over and over, albeit slightly embellished, about things they couldn’t possibly care about any more than I did when I heard those stories decades earlier.</div><br />
<div sizcache="1318" sizset="0" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I see the cycle of life. It amuses me. It concerns me. When I was just starting in broadcasting, I couldn’t get some jobs because I didn’t have enough experience. Now, I have the experience and I can’t get the job because I’m over qualified. Not long ago, I had an HR manager tell me I didn’t make the final cut, because, and I quote: “I was over-qualified; they were looking for someone younger and would take less money.” I’m not a lawyer, but I bet there were a few comments in there that someone with a law degree would find actionable. Surprisingly, I wasn’t upset at those comments. I appreciated the honesty. At least this manager had the courage to tell me the truth.</div><div sizcache="2088" sizset="0" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div sizcache="6722" sizset="0" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AgHS_fz0A1o/TWU-W-KBw2I/AAAAAAAAAF4/lUCb0Lowm_o/s1600/Rush.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" j6="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AgHS_fz0A1o/TWU-W-KBw2I/AAAAAAAAAF4/lUCb0Lowm_o/s200/Rush.jpg" width="186" /></a>Being raised in the New England, I acknowledge I lean liberal. Particularly when compared to the conservative bent of the south. But I find it more and more difficult to remain on that side of the fence. No, I still think <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.myspace.com/everything/rush-limbaugh" rel="myspaceeverything" title="Rush Limbaugh">Rush Limbaugh</a> is the devil and a pompous one at that; but I can listen to other conservative commentators these days without shouting back at the radio. <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.hughhewitt.townhall.com/" rel="homepage" title="Hugh Hewitt">Hugh Hewitt</a> and <a class="zem_slink" href="http://dennisprager.com/" rel="homepage" title="Dennis Prager">Dennis Prager</a> come to mind as broadcasters with rational arguments in defense of their beliefs. I used to say two kinds of people listen to talk radio: the idiot who wants to hear what the next smart person is going to say; and the smart person who wants to hear what the next idiot will say. I’m no longer sure into which category I fit.</div><div sizcache="6722" sizset="0" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div sizcache="6722" sizset="0" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Last week, I started to apply for a job with the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=38.8833333333,-77.0166666667&spn=10.0,10.0&q=38.8833333333,-77.0166666667 (United%20States)&t=h" rel="geolocation" title="United States">American</a> <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Civil_liberties" rel="wikipedia" title="Civil liberties">Civil Liberties</a> Union of Texas. The position was for a media relations professional. The job description sounded perfect and I felt completely qualified to pursue the opportunity. Until I hit the final job requirement: “Candidate must be bilingual in Spanish-non-negotiable.” Wait. Isn’t that a violation of my Civil Liberties? Don’t I have the right to speak the native tongue of the country where I was blessed to be born and not be forced to learn a foreign language? Whatever happened to the notion of “When in Rome?” This radical thought frightens me. Have I become a bigot? Is the conservative beast hiding beneath my inherently liberal tendencies? Seriously, America welcomes (perhaps too warmly these days) people from all nations to live the American dream. Our new citizens have the same dream of fulfillment through hard work that has turned into something of a nightmare for the baby boomers that are over-qualified in their fields and lose jobs to our new guests. And please notice I wrote “citizens.” They have earned the right to benefit from America’s bounty. But I’d like to think they’d benefit from taking a citizenship test in English rather than have the questions translated into their native tongue. And why do we speak English in America? Do they speak American in <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=51.5,-0.116666666667&spn=10.0,10.0&q=51.5,-0.116666666667 (England)&t=h" rel="geolocation" title="England">England</a>? Perhaps that was lost in the failed metric conversion. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XQQmx4Jlq-8/TWU_PjP_VCI/AAAAAAAAAF8/LV3_J3s-vGY/s1600/Wheels.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" j6="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XQQmx4Jlq-8/TWU_PjP_VCI/AAAAAAAAAF8/LV3_J3s-vGY/s320/Wheels.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So, here I am, with more time to reminisce. Becoming more like my parents than I ever thought possible. Knowing, with some comfort, that one day, my own children will repeat the same stories over and over to my grandchildren. The circle of life. One day you’re too young to know what you’re doing; the next day you’re too old to know what you’re doing.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">By the way, lettuce is usually cheaper at <a href="http://www.heb.com/">HEB</a>.</div><div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 74px; margin-top: 10px; width: 217px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.about.me/edscarborough"><img border="0" height="52" j6="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wnaod0eWkpk/TWVDE81rM-I/AAAAAAAAAGE/n0DvZodiWMM/s200/About+Me-1.png" width="200" /></a></div><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=470d0aeb-6e38-4dbf-9f21-24a2fd78f5cf" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; float: right;" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-84218415447695886242011-01-31T15:11:00.000-08:002011-07-31T09:57:18.904-07:00Logical Consequences<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TUdH_Fjy73I/AAAAAAAAAFU/nSyne9bMWYo/s1600/xbox.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" s5="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TUdH_Fjy73I/AAAAAAAAAFU/nSyne9bMWYo/s200/xbox.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Years ago, when my kids were still pre-teen, my wife and I decided to take a class in better parenting. The kids were becoming rebellious: the standard stuff like disregarding requests, not doing their chores or their homework. In those days, we didn’t have Xboxes and Play Stations to take away, and we couldn’t cut Internet time, so we didn’t have much “leverage.” The solution, the class taught, was the “law of logical consequences.” Essentially, the “law” states that you don’t make a threat when your child disobeys, you make a commitment. If you fail to pick up your toys, I will pick them up for you and give them to a child who will appreciate them. Your child will test you once, and if you stick to your end of the bargain, you can usually give the toys back and make your point. If not, some under-privileged kids will be very happy.</div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">This “law of logical consequences” doesn’t end at childhood. As adults, we know if we commit a crime, the logical consequence will be an arrest. If we speed, we’ll likely get a ticket. So what is the logical consequence if we cut expenses and cut taxes? Now, I admit my slightly liberal bias; I was, after all, raised in the East. But are we really thinking about the consequences? Study after study shows our nation falling behind in education and yet, we’re talking about cutting the budgets of our school systems. I’m the first to admit that some of the money isn’t wisely spent. I’ll acknowledge that some of the cuts make sense; for example, cutting testing for steroid use in high school athletes. Parents have a responsibility to know what their kids are doing. Educators have enough on their plate that they don’t need additional parental responsibilities. But if we fail to give teachers the proper tools our kids will only fall behind at a faster rate. And if we fail to properly compensate our teachers, we won’t get qualified teachers in the classroom. It’s a logical consequence.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TUdIBtcd_cI/AAAAAAAAAFY/TdT07IxN8Tc/s1600/map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="126" s5="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TUdIBtcd_cI/AAAAAAAAAFY/TdT07IxN8Tc/s200/map.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Recently, a friend was in a serious head-on collision. Thankfully, her new SUV had all the new safety equipment and she was able to walk away from the accident. The other driver, heading west on Memorial, hit a pothole, lost control of his vehicle and swerved into the eastbound lane. Those who live in West Houston know the condition of our streets. Memorial Drive, Kirkwood, Wilcrest, and Dairy-Ashford are in deplorable shape. Think of a ride on any of these streets as a ride in a paint mixer. A drive on these roads takes years off your vehicle: rims are wrecked, tires are ruined, and shocks wear faster. It’s a logical consequence. If you cut road repair services, or fail to repave roads for 20+ years, accidents and damage will inevitably follow. I suggested to my friend that she consider legal action against the city to force the road repair. Apparently, in some matters, this being one of them, you can fight City Hall, but you can’t sue it.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Here’s a touchy subject. Healthcare. A non-partisan Senate committee determined overturning the recently passed Healthcare bill would cost the government more than it would save. The Republican leadership says they don’t believe the report, even though it was jointly written by Republicans and Democrats. <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TUdFQN-42gI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/ZigDaZqRs30/s1600/BP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" s5="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TUdFQN-42gI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/ZigDaZqRs30/s1600/BP.jpg" /></a>Democrats of course, say, “see … we told you so.” I don’t know who has the better handle on the situation. Here’s what I do know: healthcare is expensive. My COBRA benefits recently came to an end and I had to find private coverage. A basic policy, with relatively high deductibles costs as much for my wife and me as our mortgage. Before my extended COBRA benefits ended, I made sure to get refills on all our necessary medications. Knowing our coverage ended on December 11th, our refills were mailed on December 3rd. This weekend, I received a statement from the insurance company telling me I owned them $935, because the prescriptions were filled on December 13th. Seriously? I did my homework. I called the mail-order pharmacy and confirmed our prescriptions were entered into the system on December 9th. They also confirmed the insurance company authorized the prescriptions. Now, the insurance company is penalizing me, because their mail-order house sat on the prescription order for days after receiving approval to fill the order. We may not be able to fight City Hall, but I certainly can fight the insurance company. The point here isn’t so much David vs. Goliath, but again, the law of logical consequence. Two prescriptions, not particularly “exotic” medications, come in at $935. Go ahead, cut healthcare benefits. We’ll put a strain on the healthcare system of epidemic proportions when people can’t afford their medications. Did I say, “when?” Fixed income seniors with Medicare are already struggling with their medical expenses. Add to the list unemployed without medical benefits of any kind and we have the recipe for a national crisis. Last week on the local news, I saw a report where someone went to the Emergency Room at Ben Taub Hospital. After waiting for several hours, the patient decided to leave. He never saw a doctor. He did receive a $100 bill later in the month for emergency room services.<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TUdI-6mwcfI/AAAAAAAAAFc/u7VZ90PMzVg/s1600/Protest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" s5="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TUdI-6mwcfI/AAAAAAAAAFc/u7VZ90PMzVg/s1600/Protest.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Logical consequences. You can’t get away from them. Ask President Mubarak of Egypt. Thirty years of martial law and his country is in chaos. But, he’s a tricky one, this Mubarak. He’s letting the people protest and not doing anything to stop them. His strategy? Eventually, they’ll grow tired, leave the streets, and go home. I wonder if that’s when the bill will come. It is, after all, the law of logical consequence.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.about.me/edscarborough" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="55" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--E4R9zJB2S4/TWVDH7t3bGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/uh4SB7Kc2lw/s200/About+ME-2.png" width="200" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-45953188356553032702010-12-28T14:36:00.000-08:002011-02-01T10:31:40.218-08:00Farewell to a Friend <br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" sizcache="9080" sizset="1" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody sizcache="9080" sizset="1">
<tr sizcache="9080" sizset="1"><td sizcache="9080" sizset="1" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TRpcFr7ih0I/AAAAAAAAAFI/zzKXFOxAyPQ/s1600/FrCharbonneau.jpg" imageanchor="1" sizcache="9080" sizset="1" style="clear: left; height: 178px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; width: 202px;"><img border="0" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TRpcFr7ih0I/AAAAAAAAAFI/zzKXFOxAyPQ/s1600/FrCharbonneau.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brigadier General William R. Charbonneau</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
I got the call the day after Christmas. It explained everything; and raised more questions than I could ever imagine. A friend for the past 40 years had passed away. Father Bill was home. We were blessed with a unique friendship. A Catholic Priest, a reformed Jew, a love of G-d and a desire to understand what we had in common.<br />
<div sizcache="12339" sizset="0" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Bill Charbonneau and I met accidently, if there is such a thing. I was an “all night” radio personality in Hartford, Connecticut. Occasionally, between songs, I would make brief comments on the politics of the time. Back in 1973, Watergate was the hot topic, and I recall the press attacking then <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richard_Nixon" rel="wikipedia" title="Richard Nixon">President Nixon</a> with a passion. I simply stated, “on-air,” that everyone, by our law, is innocent until proven guilty. And by that fundamental concept, President Nixon should be given the benefit of the doubt until proven otherwise. With open phones, listeners would call in and choose to agree or disagree. My first caller, clearly inebriated, blurted, “Nixon is as guilty as sin.” Why, I don’t know, but I responded with “you’re a f*ckin’ assh*le” and ended our brief interaction. Obviously, the call never made it on the air. The incident was forgotten.</div> <br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Several weeks later, our radio station hosted an annual “Bridal Fair” at a local hotel. It was an event all the air personalities hated. We had to be fitted for tuxedos (most of us were single in those days and relatively averse to marriage) and then model the latest styles for the thousands of future brides in attendance. The brides weren’t there to see their favorite dj’s … but to see wedding gowns, florists, honeymoon planners, caterers, photographers, and jewelers. </div><br />
<div class="separator" sizcache="9080" sizset="2" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TRpc_8c86OI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Jp86aPWmwwk/s1600/FatherBill0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" sizcache="9080" sizset="2" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" n4="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TRpc_8c86OI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Jp86aPWmwwk/s200/FatherBill0001.jpg" width="146" /></a></div>One of the events at the Bridal Fair was an interfaith wedding panel. One of the panelists was a young priest. Someone introduced him to me as Father Bill, and I identified myself as Ed Mitchell (my air name in those days). A moment of confusion flashed across Bill’s face, then, a smile, a chuckle, and he said, “So you’re the SOB that called me a f*ckin’ assh*le?” My response still stuns me. “Well, Father, evidently I was right!” Father Bill laughed, slapped me on the shoulder, and said, “it must have been the scotch talking.” From that moment on, Father William R. Charbonneau and I were friends. <br />
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Bill loved hockey, so every now and then we would go to watch the Hartford Whalers play. He never mentioned he was the official Chaplain of the team. When he could get out of “uniform” Bill would enjoy a drink or two with his friends, and I was proud to be in that group. Father Bill also had a wicked sense of humor. He served as the Chaplain for the Waterbury, CT police department. More than happy to do Bill a favor, I once had a couple of officers show up at my door with a “warrant” and hand-cuffs. “Arrested” for some zoning disturbance for excessive volume on my stereo system, I had to answer questions for about 45 minutes before Bill couldn’t take it anymore and came in the interrogation room laughing hysterically. <br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TRpbxlV9JuI/AAAAAAAAAFE/U3No8UM5wJc/s1600/FrBillEnq+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" s5="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TRpbxlV9JuI/AAAAAAAAAFE/U3No8UM5wJc/s320/FrBillEnq+copy.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>On another occasion, my roommate and I hosted a Halloween Party. Bill’s costume? The Pope. Sacrilegious – absolutely. But it came in handy when the Police again arrived at my door to complain about the noise. Only this time, it wasn’t a prank. Bill’s connections helped settle the situation and I’m one of the few people in the world who can claim the “Pope” crashed at my house for a night. Over the next forty years, we kept in touch while my career took me to St. Louis, Los Angeles, Houston, Miami, and San Antonio. Father Bill became a vicar of St. John of the Cross Church in Middlebury, Connecticut and the Principal of East Catholic High School, the school he attended as a youngster. Father Bill was a bit of a “rebel” in the structured church. In November 1974, Bill was called by his friends <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ed_Warren">Ed & Lorraine Warren</a> to a home in Bridgeport, Connecticut. The Warrens were the Founders of the <a href="http://www.warrens.net/">New England Center for Psychic Research</a> and the lead investigators into the now famous <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Amityville_Horror">Amityville Horror</a>. Recognized throughout the world as leaders in Psychic Phenomenon and Paranormal Activity, the Warrens called Father Bill to a home where a child was exhibiting supernatural abilities. In January of 1975, the National Enquirer quoted Father Bill as acknowledging <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poltergeist">pol</a><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poltergeist">tergeist</a> activity and psychic energy. Father Charbonneau, later told me, rather tactfully, that the Church frowned upon such admissions and he had been officially reprimanded. </div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Bill and I would often talk about why he joined the Priesthood. He admitted the part of the “job” he liked the least, was parish work. He didn’t feel comfortable working out marital problems, or getting caught in squabbles with church elders. What he loved, was working with the kids. He would say, “I’m not married, I don’t know any other relationship than the one I have with G-d and I question that from time to time, and I’m sure as heck not qualified to be giving advice to couples having problems. But I do know kids. I was one. I am one. And I know I can relate to them.” The Archdiocese put Bill into a school system and both Father Charbonneau and the schools thrived.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But that wasn’t enough for Bill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In 1979, he was commissioned as a Chaplain for the Connecticut Air National Guard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Soon, he was promoted to wing Chaplain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In 1986, the Archdiocese “loaned” Father Bill to the Air National Guard and he moved to Washington, DC.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bill was not one to wear his faith on his sleeve, his strength was within.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And he was not one to judge you for having doubts about your own faith.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was the consummate listener; and by listening, he helped you find your own answers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As part of his responsibilities he would fly to meet with aviators in Antarctica and Germany; and in his later years, meet with veterans of Desert Storm and the Iraqi War.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rewarded for his good work, Pope John Paul II named Bill as “Monsignor” in 2002, while the Military recognized his efforts with the Meritorious Service Award, The Air Force Commendat5ion Medal, The Air Force Achievement Medal, the Joint Meritorious Unit Award, the Air Force Outstanding Unit Award, the Air Force Organizational Force Achievement Medal, the Air Force Organizational Excellence Award, the National Defense Service Medal, and the Humanitarian Service Medal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was the guy I called a “f*ckin’ assh*le”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was my drinking buddy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was the “Pope” who crashed at my house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was someone I proudly called friend.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" sizcache="9080" sizset="4" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody sizcache="9080" sizset="4">
<tr sizcache="9080" sizset="4"><td sizcache="9080" sizset="4" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TRpbrPzaBoI/AAAAAAAAAFA/8-PdBoIkSs8/s1600/FrBillStash.jpg" imageanchor="1" sizcache="9080" sizset="4" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TRpbrPzaBoI/AAAAAAAAAFA/8-PdBoIkSs8/s200/FrBillStash.jpg" width="160" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Father Bill with my dog Stash</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Over the years, Father Bill and I connected every year around Christmas. He’d ask about my kids and career, and he would play down his adventures and accomplishments when I would ask. When spoke last Christmas he was looking forward to retiring. Bill would return to Connecticut to continue his commitment to the Archdiocese. He had sold his townhouse in Alexandria and purchased a new home in Connecticut. Typical of Bill, he was embarrassed by the address on “Lavender Lane,” so he chose to rent a P.O. Box to receive mail. I was surprised to learn he wouldn’t be released from the Guard until he fully recovered from a lung infection he developed on one of his overseas missions. And he had to complete his counseling program. He was suffering from <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Posttraumatic_stress_disorder" rel="wikipedia" title="Posttraumatic stress disorder">Post Traumatic Stress Disorder</a>. Bill explained that Chaplains and Psychiatrists/Psychologists hear so many horrific stories from our returning troops that the nightmares are often transferred to the counselors. It had never occurred to me. The caregivers needed care, too.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I was going to call him in April when he would be settled into his new home; but chose to send an email allowing him to respond when he had time. And I reached out to him on Facebook. He must have been busy, he didn’t reply. The call Sunday explained why.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">On May 1st, 2010; <a href="http://catholictranscript.org/obituaries/1421-msgr-william-r-charbonneau-air-national-guard-brigadier-general-.html">Colonel William R. Charbonneau</a> was promoted to Brigadier General in the Connecticut Air National Guard. On May 5th, Father Bill Charbonneau, my friend, died of a heart attack at the age of 61. He served his Faith and his Country with honor. Bill taught me about service, integrity, and commitment. Most of all, Bill Charbonneau taught me what it meant to be a friend. I would tell Bill to "rest in peace," but I know better. I have no doubt Father William R. Charbonneau is still serving his Lord and I believe Bill has received the ultimate promotion from his true Commanding Officer.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-14358704290840209492010-12-22T12:03:00.000-08:002010-12-22T13:36:40.827-08:00Star Trek Lessons<div style="text-align: justify;">To paraphrase <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spock" rel="wikipedia" title="Spock">Spock</a>’s last words in <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Trek" rel="wikipedia" title="Star Trek">Star Trek</a> II – The Wrath of Kahn, "I have been and always will be Star Trek’s friend." </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"><br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TRJSbm6wjsI/AAAAAAAAAEw/Z1YxqC50Uqc/s1600/logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; height: 185px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; width: 164px;"><img border="0" height="200" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TRJSbm6wjsI/AAAAAAAAAEw/Z1YxqC50Uqc/s200/logo.jpg" width="162" /></a></div> <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TRJSdbQ4hvI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Ey6zbsrRiFo/s1600/nine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; height: 137px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; width: 115px;"><img border="0" height="200" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TRJSdbQ4hvI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Ey6zbsrRiFo/s200/nine.jpg" width="168" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jeri Ryan - 7 of 9</td></tr>
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;">With the exception of Star Trek – Deep Space Nine; I have become, admittedly begrudgingly at times, a fan of every spinoff of the original series. Initially, I had a tough time accepting Captain Picard in <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0092455/" rel="imdb" title="Star Trek: The Next Generation">Star Trek: Next Generation</a>, although I immediately took to <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Data_%28Star_Trek%29" rel="wikipedia" title="Data (Star Trek)">Mr. Data</a>; Star Trek: Voyager’s Kate Mulgrew was fine as Captain Janeway, but the show more than made up for her command with the addition of the spray painted costume of Jeri Ryan as “Seven of Nine.” Scott Bakula, as <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jonathan_Archer" rel="wikipedia" title="Jonathan Archer">Captain Archer</a> in Star Trek: Enterprise was perfectly cast. I could never get into Sisko’s character in DS9, or for that matter, the politics of Cardassians, Romulans, or Klingons. I always thought the Vulcans took themselves a bit too seriously and I never cared for cultural lessons in the honor of Klingons; even after they became part of the Federation.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">There are those reading this blog and know exactly what I’m talking about; and there are others wondering what the heck I’m talking about. I’d suggest setting your VCR to record a few of the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.cbs.com/index.php" rel="hulu" title="Star Trek">original Star Trek</a> episodes and the second version of the program, Star Trek: Next Generation. More than sci-fi space shoot-outs, these programs always had a moral dilemma to address. The shows’ writers looked for current events and wrote episodes addressing the foolishness of our prejudices, wars, economics, and refusal to accept changes that could benefit mankind. There are a lot of lessons to be learned from the program: in spite of its setting and relatively early stage special effects. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TRJSZfwZRsI/AAAAAAAAAEs/IwEFhsWQwuo/s1600/kirk.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TRJSZfwZRsI/AAAAAAAAAEs/IwEFhsWQwuo/s1600/kirk.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">James T. Kirk</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;">Many know the “Mission” of the original <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0244365/" rel="imdb" title="Star Trek: Enterprise">Star Trek Enterprise</a>: “To explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Where_no_man_has_gone_before" rel="wikipedia" title="Where no man has gone before">to boldly go where no man has gone before</a>.” Unfortunately, <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_T._Kirk" rel="wikipedia" title="James T. Kirk">Captain Kirk</a>’s five year mission was cancelled after three years. Five years later, <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jean-Luc_Picard" rel="wikipedia" title="Jean-Luc Picard">Captain Jean-Luc Picard</a> took his Enterprise D “to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no one has gone before.” Women were now in space and the show became politically correct. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TRJSflXFrKI/AAAAAAAAAE4/eO51iJ0Ics4/s1600/Picard.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TRJSflXFrKI/AAAAAAAAAE4/eO51iJ0Ics4/s1600/Picard.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jean-Luc Picard</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;">The given of each Star Trek series was that intelligent life exists in our solar system. In today’s state of the world, we wouldn’t have to leave the planet to search for intelligent beings. A five year mission to Washington, DC should be ample time to find intelligent life. Both <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spock">Spock</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mr._Data">Mr. Data</a> would be challenged to find anything that resembles a thriving species, especially if they concentrated on the House and Senate. And what kind of plot would the writers create if they focused on our election process and political campaign promises. Would they not surmise we’re a species of lying, two faced, unethical, and immoral beings incapable of mutual cooperation? In just the past two weeks, an allegedly “<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lame_duck_(politics)">lame duck</a>” session has been remarkably un-duck-like. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Don't_ask,_don't_tell">Don’t Ask-Don’t Tell</a>: repealed. Tax Cuts/Unemployment Extension: Passed. Strategic Arms Treaty: days away from resolution. A 9/11 Health Bill passed. Finally, two sides of our species work together. It’s what the “Federation” of American citizens has urged our counsel (representatives) to achieve.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">And yet, the moment a bill is passed, each side retreats to its camp and takes phaser shots at the “enemy” (Republican/Democrat – Klingon/Romulan … you choose, it doesn’t matter). Mr. Data would no doubt be confused by the lack of logic; Mr. Spock would simply raise an eyebrow and say, “fascinating.” </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TRJSV9pll3I/AAAAAAAAAEo/Bhxo57BEnzM/s1600/capbld.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TRJSV9pll3I/AAAAAAAAAEo/Bhxo57BEnzM/s1600/capbld.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;">No-one in government wants wasteful spending, but no-one in government seems willing to stop it. So, to keep their job (something millions of other Americans can’t find), politicians compromise. Not because it’s the right thing to do, but because it’s the ultimate Survivor episode decided by the Tribal Counsel. Maybe we should elect <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jeff_Probst">Jeff Probst</a> as the Majority Leader.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;">It’s no wonder little is accomplished in DC; it really doesn’t matter who is at the helm of the Enterprise. The writers of Star Trek would have a field day with this topic, because with phasers set on “stun” little gets done.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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<div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=120a1d98-521e-408f-8940-8e9f1e62587c" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; float: right;" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-89344456400696926142010-12-08T22:36:00.000-08:002010-12-08T22:42:15.424-08:00DNA - Do Not AnnoyScientific data to prove otherwise, I’m beginning to think DNA stands for “do not annoy.” <br />
<div sizcache="22" sizset="0" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div sizcache="22" sizset="0"><div sizcache="22" sizset="0"><span class="zemanta-img separator zemanta-action-dragged" sizcache="22" sizset="0"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:DNA_orbit_animated.gif" style="clear: right; display: block; float: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Animation of the structure of a section of DNA..." height="320" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/16/DNA_orbit_animated.gif" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-size: 0.8em;" width="193" /></a><span class="zemanta-img-attribution" sizcache="22" sizset="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; width: auto;">Image via <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:DNA_orbit_animated.gif">Wikipedia</a></span></span> </div></div></div><div sizcache="10741" sizset="0" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TQB0tHbqWRI/AAAAAAAAAEg/4OA6KB58nLw/s1600/Ekevator.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TQB0tHbqWRI/AAAAAAAAAEg/4OA6KB58nLw/s200/Ekevator.jpg" width="150" /></a>Need an example? When was the last time you struck up a conversation with someone in an elevator? Seriously, we’ll stare at our shoes, we’ll stare at the floor indicators, we’ll stare at the control panel; we’ll even stare at other peoples shoes, bags, and coats. We’ll pretty much do anything possible to avoid interaction. I suppose I could understand avoiding strangers during the avian flu pandemic panic; but if you just take a flu shot we should all be fair game for conversation.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
Need more? Go stand in the line at the drivers’ license bureau or county tax office. You may very well be standing next to someone for two ho<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TQBvil8F6OI/AAAAAAAAAEM/QeFOKyeN6cM/s1600/line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TQBvil8F6OI/AAAAAAAAAEM/QeFOKyeN6cM/s200/line.jpg" width="200" /></a>urs, but hell would freeze over before you would acknowledge that person. Unless, of course, he’s got some form you don’t have and you’re wondering what you’re missing. It seems that in most places it’s rude to strike up a conversation with a total stranger. Except in Texas, where it’s considered rude not to speak to your “stand in line” buddy. There’s no caste system in Texas. A suit will chat with a guy who stands in scuffed work boots. When I stood in line during the last presidential election, we were talking across the lines. White, Black, Hispanic, Asian … we talked. It was a beautiful thing. Texas is such a friendly state; I don’t know why they call it the Lone Star State. They should call it the Friendly State.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TQBvotT8ACI/AAAAAAAAAEU/CxhCOXPN9wo/s1600/People+Mover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TQBvotT8ACI/AAAAAAAAAEU/CxhCOXPN9wo/s200/People+Mover.jpg" width="200" /></a>Lately I've been spending quite a bit of time flying from one interview from the next. Airports are great for people watching and we put on quite a show. Travelers wheel their bags with reckless abandon, cutting in front of people constantly as they chat on their cell phones. Or, they’re looking up at gate signs and walk into you as though you don’t exist. And I wonder how the airlines allow their employees to speed down concourses in those fancy “golf carts.” If we drove the way they drive; we’d be uninsurable. Another thing I see is travelers using the moving sidewalks to get from one end of the terminal building to the other. Many of these people are in a hurry, many aren’t. The folks who have plenty of time stand to the left and prevent the ones in a hurry from getting past them. Perhaps Samsonite will put a siren in their next model of carry-on so the “laggers” will move to the right. But if you’re in that much of a hurry, why don’t you just walk fast or even do an OJ Simpson and run through the airport using your own legs? And don’t get me started on how loud folks talk on their cell phone. For people who won’t talk to strangers, we seem to have no need for privacy. Some conversations are so personal I almost feel guilty for listening. Almost. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TQBzAYS5jvI/AAAAAAAAAEY/xeD7KVeXngE/s1600/wifi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" n4="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TQBzAYS5jvI/AAAAAAAAAEY/xeD7KVeXngE/s200/wifi.jpg" width="160" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Fact is, airports are really annoying places. Some have terminals have free Wi-Fi; some try to make you pay for a connection. Good luck finding an outlet to charge your laptop prior the flight; and better luck not tripping over someone’s cord. And really, what’s with the PA announcements? Putting a microphone in the hands of a gate agent is a recipe for disaster. Maybe they think they’re paid by the word. Recently, while waiting for a flight out of Atlanta, over a twenty minute span, I heard the flight attendant remind travelers to Canada a dozen times they needed their passport to board. I come from a background in radio broadcasting, believe me, I know repetition, but that was simply ridiculous. After all, if they need their passport to get back to Canada, chances are they needed it to get into the United States. I’m convinced people run out and get the latest gadget just before they fly to show other travelers the latest model of iPad, iPod, and Android. We don’t have to wait for the mail delivery, we just email, get our news online (do we still surf?), update our “status” to tell everyone that we have nothing more important to do than tell friends who we never met where we are and what we’re doing as though somehow it matters. Actually, it does matter. I found out my son broke his ankle on Facebook. He didn’t think to call, because he had updated his status.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Here’s my favorite travel observation. We’ll sit in an airplane, crammed like olives in a jar, for three or four hours and not say a word to the person next to us. But once we land, somehow relieved, we start asking the traditional questions: “Vacation or business,” “Is this home?” “Where did you start your travels?” “How long have you lived here?” “How long have you been gone?” In essence, as we taxi to the jetway, we learn more about our travel mate in four minutes than we did in the past three hours. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TQBvlnyrACI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/Oot6OYvYGMA/s1600/iPad.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="122" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TQBvlnyrACI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/Oot6OYvYGMA/s200/iPad.png" width="200" /></a>On the other side, once you start a conversation, there’s no way out of it. A few weeks ago, the passenger next to me was playing with her new iPad. I couldn’t resist and broke the “cone of silence.” Next thing I knew, I was getting a product demo and watching home movies, pictures of her grandchildren and a complete family history. After all that conversation, we never exchanged names. To return to my DNA mode, I feigned a few yawns and nodded off. I had a friend who once met a woman on a flight to California. The flight was a red-eye and with lots of empty seats. The woman explained she was going to LA to become an actress. As her story unfolded, she started talking about breast augmentation and before he knew it, the woman lifted her blouse and had him confirm, by touch, how real her breasts felt and looked. As I write this, my fellow passenger is about 6’5”, built like a linebacker, and is snoring like a heard of buffalo. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>No-one ever said life is fair. That’s probably in our DNA, too.<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="zemanta-pixie" sizcache="5054" sizset="0" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" sizcache="5054" sizset="0" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=e7de1418-5496-4b38-9b65-698f1874fc26" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; float: right;" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-44472428877650168782010-12-05T09:02:00.000-08:002010-12-05T10:24:13.697-08:00Oy. The Joy of Travel<b>Day One:</b><br />
<div sizcache="3924" sizset="1" style="border: medium none;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TPvBr27PLeI/AAAAAAAAAEE/3gIRF2J03po/s1600/security.jpg" imageanchor="1" sizcache="3924" sizset="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" ox="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TPvBr27PLeI/AAAAAAAAAEE/3gIRF2J03po/s320/security.jpg" width="320" /></a>It was a promising start. That should have been my first concern. There was no panic, no last minute rush; just a calm start to a business trip to the Northeast. I had packed the night before, fit everything I needed into my carry-on, pre-programmed radio stations into my radio, got my addresses loaded into the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Global_Positioning_System" rel="wikipedia" title="Global Positioning System">GPS</a>, and had a solid night’s sleep. </div><div style="border: medium none;"><br />
</div><div sizcache="5142" sizset="0" style="border: medium none;">The drive to the airport was uneventful. I parked the car and was immediately shuttled to the terminal building. Since I had checked-in online, I had my boarding pass in hand and walked straight to security. I was almost disappointed when there wasn’t even a hint of a potential pat-down or kinky X-ray. Maybe they should call it HD X-Ray or Blue-Ray X-Ray. People might be more tolerant of the new technology if they thought they could buy it at Best Buy. I even had my <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.tsa.gov/" rel="homepage" title="Transportation Security Administration">TSA</a> officer picked out and was looking forward to our encounter. No such luck. On the bright side, the boarding process went smoothly, and thankfully, there was room in the overhead right above my seat for my carry-on. Since airlines started charging for checking luggage, I never take that for granted. The flight left <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=29.7627777778,-95.3830555556&spn=0.1,0.1&q=29.7627777778,-95.3830555556%20%28Houston%29&t=h" rel="geolocation" title="Houston">Houston</a> on time and we arrived in <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=33.755,-84.39&spn=0.1,0.1&q=33.755,-84.39%20%28Atlanta%29&t=h" rel="geolocation" title="Atlanta">Atlanta</a> several minutes early. That’s when the trip came unglued.</div><div sizcache="5572" sizset="0" style="border: medium none;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TPvBB95SxgI/AAAAAAAAAD8/IUWc8R5XMIo/s1600/tram.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TPvBB95SxgI/AAAAAAAAAD8/IUWc8R5XMIo/s1600/tram.bmp" /></a></div><br />
</div><div style="border: medium none;">Perhaps you can explain to me the unwritten rule that when you have a connecting flight, the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.wikinvest.com/industry/Airlines" rel="wikinvest" title="Airlines">airline</a> almost always drops you off in <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Airport_terminal" rel="wikipedia" title="Airport terminal">Terminal</a> A and has your departure in Terminal D. The airport monitors told me my flight was on time, departing at 3:50pm. I had plenty of time to catch the underground tram, find my gate, and even play a bit on the internet. </div><div style="border: medium none;"><br />
</div><div sizcache="30" sizset="0" style="border: medium none;"><div sizcache="30" sizset="0"><br />
</div><div sizcache="30" sizset="0"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:GeorgeBushIntercontinentalFIDSTerminalB.JPG" style="clear: left; display: block; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Flight information display system at George Bu..." height="150" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/f/fa/GeorgeBushIntercontinentalFIDSTerminalB.JPG/300px-GeorgeBushIntercontinentalFIDSTerminalB.JPG" style="border: medium none; font-size: 0.8em;" width="200" /></a>Of course, Atlanta doesn’t play nicely and they consider internet access a money maker and charge for access for anything other than flight information. OK, I’ll check on my flight status. Not that I need it. After all, it’s on the screen above my head. Uh, wait a minute. Online, I’m told my 3:50 departure has been moved to 4:10 from a different gate. No worries, I confirm the gate change and move down a few sections, and arrive just in time to hear the flight had been delayed until 8:30. Why did they have to move me to give me that news? I’m good. Now I have plenty of time to walk the shops, get dinner, and call the wife. Jane-Ann tells me there’s a message from the airline telling me my 12:50pm flight left at 1:05. The message was sent around 3pm when I was already in Atlanta. </div></div><br />
The next thing I know, its 6:45 and the board tells me my flight is now leaving at 7:10. Now, I’m scrambling to get back to the gate to get on board and catch the flight. All went well, and I arrived at my destination only 3 hours late. The rental car was there, and my GPS helped make my 40 minute ride to the hotel a snap. Grade for the day … a “B.” Delayed flights because of rough weather are forgivable, but I had to take points off for the recorded message updating me hours after I had departed that we would be leaving late.<br />
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<b>Day Two</b><br />
Meetings went well. Again, a good start to the day. After the meetings, I met with a Regional VP for dinner. Unbelievably, we couldn’t find the hotel restaurant. A quick stop at the front desk and we learned the restaurant was a couple of tables to the side of the bar and we just need to give our order to the bartender. If only she could speak English. The VP ordered a tuna steak, with sides of steamed veggies and rice pilaf. I ordered linguini with shrimp diablo in a red sauce (is there any other when the menu says “marinara?” We were served a few minutes later. The tuna steak turned into a fish sandwich with french fries. My shrimp diablo turned into mushroom alfredo. Easy mistake to make. And since the bartender was cute, we didn’t make a big deal out her screw-up. Later, I learned she rarely got her orders right and that the hotel management was ready to say goodbye. End of day two … grade is a “B.” Great meetings, but points deducted because of a cute, but incompetent waitress.<br />
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<div style="border: medium none;"><b>Day Three </b></div><div style="border: medium none;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TPvHtFkxamI/AAAAAAAAAEI/9De2ujZkIf0/s1600/alarm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" ox="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TPvHtFkxamI/AAAAAAAAAEI/9De2ujZkIf0/s200/alarm.jpg" width="192" /></a>The fun day. Straight out, I’ll tell you the grade for the day is an “F.” No sense in keeping it a mystery. Of course, any idiot who books a 6am flight probably deserves to be punished. So, let’s backtime. 6am flight, 5am at the airport to return the car, on the road by 4:15am, set the alarm for 3:45am. Got it. And good night. Until the alarm went off at 1:30. I’m pretty sure I know the difference between 3:45 and 1:30; apparently, I didn’t know the difference between alarm setting 1 and setting 2. Back to sleep and the backup alarm (my phone) wakes me at 3:45. A quick shower and I’m on my way. And this shower was really quick. It seems the hotel turns off their <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Water_heating" rel="wikipedia" title="Water heating">hot water heater</a> overnight to reduce energy costs. Seriously. And I thought the alarm at 1:30 was jarring. </div><div style="border: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border: medium none;">OK, I check out, head to the airport, drop off the car, and catch my flight. All without a hitch. Until Atlanta. My connection is scheduled to leave at 10:50. Veteran traveler that I am, I make my trek from Terminal D to Terminal A and arrive at the gate with time to spare. Of course, the thirty minute delay helped. At 11:20, I’m wondering why we haven’t started boarding. I wasn’t kept in suspense for long, as the agent announced my flight to <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=29.6455555556,-95.2788888889&spn=0.03,0.03&q=29.6455555556,-95.2788888889%20%28William%20P.%20Hobby%20Airport%29&t=h" rel="geolocation" title="William P. Hobby Airport">Hobby Airport</a> has been cancelled. Not delayed. Cancelled. Passengers trying to make connections from Hobby are panicked, the agents are unprepared, and chaos ensues.</div><br />
Finally, I was told I could get a seat on a 12:05 flight to <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=29.9844444444,-95.3413888889&spn=0.03,0.03&q=29.9844444444,-95.3413888889%20%28George%20Bush%20Intercontinental%20Airport%29&t=h" rel="geolocation" title="George Bush Intercontinental Airport">Bush Intercontinental Airport</a>; for those who don’t know, Intercontinental is about 30 miles north of Hobby and about a 45 minute ride on a good traffic day. More good news. They would put the passengers on a shuttle and transport us from the big airport to Hobby. Put me on the plane. Just not next to the 250 pound gorilla who hadn’t bathed since he left Malaysia two days ago. Damn, that part wasn’t in my itinerary. Neither was the fact that this was a small commuter plane, with passengers crammed 2x2 like sardines without any oil to help them fit in the tin. <br />
<br />
After a smooth flight to Intercontinental, things got bumpy. We were told a <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gate_agent" rel="wikipedia" title="Gate agent">gate agent</a> would give us instructions to find the shuttle to take us to Hobby. Surprise! No-one in a red-jacket by the gate. A gate agent told me to go to the main check-in counter in the terminal lobby. As I approached the counter, a “red-jacket” approached to help me check-in. I explained my situation and she sent me to the counter agent. The counter agent sent me to the “red-jacket” and the shuffle began. I was sure I heard “shuttle” back in Atlanta. Finally, the two representatives decided to relieve themselves of the problem and sent me to baggage claim. Of course, I had no checked baggage, so this made perfect sense.<br />
<br />
<div style="border: medium none;">Actually, it did. The baggage manager knew exactly what to do. Forget the shuttle, they’ve never done that; take a voucher for a cab. “Is the tip included,” I asked? “No” was his reply. “Then how is this a free trip” I wondered? Forty-five minutes and $10 later, I’m dropped off at the departure gate after I had asked to be taken to the arriving passenger level of the airport. Finally, I find the shuttle to the parking lot. It’s now three o’clock, I was supposed to be home by 12:15pm. I’ve been up since 2:45 (Houston time) and I’m tired. Not so tired, that I failed to notice I was welcomed with flat tire. </div><div style="border: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border: medium none;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TPsztNbZTJI/AAAAAAAAADw/J3dbzVp2xis/s1600/Flat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="120" ox="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TPsztNbZTJI/AAAAAAAAADw/J3dbzVp2xis/s200/Flat.jpg" width="200" /></a>Now, I’m not a rocket scientist, but I’ve changed a tire or two. I found the jack, the lug wrench, and the wheel key; so far so good. I just couldn’t seem to get the wheel off the axle. I tugged, I pulled, and I kicked to no avail. Maybe I’m doing something wrong. I pulled out the owner’s manual and read the “changing the tire section.” I think I wrote it. OK, I’ll call my automaker’s 800 road service number. The operator informs me she can’t give me any instructions, she’s only authorized to provide emergency service. She suggests I call the dealership. I’m glad I’m not paying for this alleged “concierge” service. To my amazement, my service advisor answered her line. “You’re doing everything right,” she said, “the tire should just pull off. Is there any other way I can be of service?” Yeah. Kiss this.</div><br />
<div style="border: medium none;">No worries, I pay some $50 a year for AAA. It pays for itself when I rent a car or book a hotel. Today, it paid for road service. The wrecker arrived within 15 minutes of my call (why didn’t I do this first?). My hero, Chris, took one look … gave one good tug … shrugged and went to his truck. Seconds later he came back with a rubber mallet. He just wacked the crap out of that tire, that had to be very satisfying. I doubt he’ll ever need therapy. The tire came off the axle. Five hours later than expected, I pulled into my driveway.</div><div style="border: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border: medium none;">Oh, did I mention my spare tire had a nail it? Let’s not go there.</div><div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 143px; margin-top: 10px; width: 146px;"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=6b7e8cd5-c0f4-46fa-ab21-e4c1afc77737" style="border-style: none; float: right;" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-41327644883514248542010-11-13T12:17:00.000-08:002010-11-13T12:23:04.537-08:00The Thrill of Victory and the Agony of DefeatThings had been looking up. Or, so I thought. The phone was ringing and finally it wasn't an annoying telemarketer. Job leads. A couple of managers actually had read my application materials and were expressing some interest. Maybe the economy really is turning around and hiring will pick up in 2011.<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TN7nxQ6SsCI/AAAAAAAAADY/beMFkYiObeo/s1600/Smalley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" px="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TN7nxQ6SsCI/AAAAAAAAADY/beMFkYiObeo/s1600/Smalley.jpg" /></a></div><br />
My wife and I have accepted the notion we'll most likely be leaving <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=31.0,-100.0&spn=10.0,10.0&q=31.0,-100.0 (Texas)&t=h" rel="geolocation" title="Texas">Texas</a>. We're really not concerned about what part of the country calls us; just so that we can live comfortably and get some help moving there. How two people can accumulate so much stuff in so short a time is beyond me, but somehow we managed to run up a $7500 bill when we moved from <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=29.4166666667,-98.5&spn=0.1,0.1&q=29.4166666667,-98.5 (San%20Antonio)&t=h" rel="geolocation" title="San Antonio">San Antonio</a> to <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=29.7627777778,-95.3830555556&spn=0.1,0.1&q=29.7627777778,-95.3830555556 (Houston)&t=h" rel="geolocation" title="Houston">Houston</a>. <br />
<br />
So the phone was ringing and I felt like I had won the lottery. Like <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stuart_Smalley" rel="wikipedia" title="Stuart Smalley">Stuart Smalley</a> used to say, "I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and dog-gone it, people like me." OK, it was a bit for <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0072562/" rel="imdb" title="Saturday Night Live">Saturday Night Live</a>, and <a class="zem_slink" href="http://franken.senate.gov/" rel="homepage" title="Al Franken">Al Franken</a> was a bit nerdy. Look where it got him ... all the way to the Senate.<br />
<br />
I was giddy. I had three different job prospects at the same time. If you've ever fantasized about how you would spend your millions when you won the lottery, you know how Jane-Ann and I felt. We went through a thousand "what if" scenarios trying to determine which would be the best opportunity. Two were out of state; the other was here in Houston. Although it meant a serious setback in salary and responsibilities, we decided if the local offer was made, we were here to stay.<br />
<br />
The local interview was by committee, and I thought I held up to the questioning rather well. We spent more than two hours in the interview, and that was followed by a "test.” Since the "test" was computerized, and I was sitting at a computer with <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Internet_access" rel="wikipedia" title="Internet access">Internet access</a>, I was able to "Google" the answers I needed. They gave me the resources, I utilized them. <br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The next interview also went well. We talked shop; made jokes, and didn't spill our soup at dinner. I knew an offer would come. And while I waited for that offer, a third interview took place. If I couldn't stay in Houston, this third opening was the one I wanted. Great company, great manager, great team; all that was missing was me. We could fix that.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TN7nteJc0OI/AAAAAAAAADU/2pLcpx7CxRI/s1600/thrill-of-victory.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; height: 178px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; width: 210px;"><img border="0" height="156" px="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/TN7nteJc0OI/AAAAAAAAADU/2pLcpx7CxRI/s200/thrill-of-victory.jpg" width="200" /></a>Now from the "thrill of victory" comes "the agony of defeat.” While traveling back from third interview, I got a call from the local manager. His message was bright, cheerful, and simple. "Hey Ed, please give me a call and let's talk.” <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jackpot_%28game_show%29" rel="wikipedia" title="Jackpot (game show)">Jackpot!</a> No-one ever calls with bad news; least of all with that cheerful sound in their voice. Let the spending begin! I see an <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.apple.com/ipad/" rel="homepage" title="iPad">iPad</a> in my future! Uh, hold that thought. The manager was actually calling to tell me they had filled the position with an internal candidate. Not the news I wanted to hear, but a classy guy.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">After returning from my last interview, I immediately sent my thank you note. I expected a quick response, like: "I enjoyed meeting you, too.” After two days, I received a long, emotional response informing me he put the position on hold. He needed to give his staff a bit more time to respond to his plea to step up. If the timing had been better, I could have mentioned how that worked out for <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.wadephillips.net/" rel="homepage" title="Wade Phillips">Wade Phillips</a>. Two down-one to go.</div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The good news was I did get a firm offer from the first interview! But there were items that needed to be negotiated; certainly the earlier mentioned help with moving expenses. The manager was understanding and really wanted to put the deal together. He would go to bat for me and see how much more assistance he could provide. All other interviews took place while I was waiting for him to get back to me. But now that the first two positions had crashed and burned, I reached out for news. You don't need a magnifying glass to see this one coming: "Sorry Ed, the position has been eliminated from the budget.” It would seem I was fired before I was hired! Three down - none to go.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The thrill of victory. The agony of defeat. And still no iPad. </div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: right;"></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-81755704871982352562010-11-04T11:00:00.000-07:002011-01-11T14:25:06.340-08:00When Sharks Smell Blood<div sizcache="28437" sizset="0"><span class="zemanta-img separator" sizcache="28437" sizset="0" style="clear: right;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/69131582@N00/3910734425" sizcache="26349" sizset="0" style="clear: right; display: block; float: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Vintage Ad #914: Free Milk Mug from the Pillsb..." height="240" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2424/3910734425_7a39250b7f_m.jpg" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-size: 0.8em;" width="171" /></a><span class="zemanta-img-attribution" sizcache="28437" sizset="1" style="clear: both; float: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; width: 171px;">Image by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/69131582@N00/3910734425">jbcurio</a> via Flickr</span></span> <br />
<div sizcache="25456" sizset="0"><div sizcache="23556" sizset="0"><div sizcache="23556" sizset="0"><div sizcache="16892" sizset="0">It was my bad. I failed to follow my own advice. I routinely warn friends about random clicking on websites, because we rarely know where our <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Information" rel="wikipedia" title="Information">information</a> is being received. Worse, many sites track our every move. If I ate all the cookies that websites set, I'd look something like the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.michelin.com/" rel="homepage" title="Michelin">Michelin</a> Man. It's bad enough I'm challenging the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pillsbury_Doughboy" rel="wikipedia" title="Pillsbury Doughboy">Pillsbury Doughboy</a>. </div><div sizcache="16892" sizset="0"></div><div sizcache="16892" sizset="0">This past Tuesday, I spent some time researching private health insurance. My <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.dol.gov/dol/topic/health-plans/cobra.htm" rel="homepage" title="COBRA">COBRA</a> benefits from my most recent employer will expire next month, so it's time to get information for continuing medical coverage. I visited the usual websites, esurance.com; ehealth.com; <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/AARP" rel="wikipedia" title="AARP">AARP</a>, <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.aetna.com/" rel="homepage" title="Aetna">Aetna</a>, <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.cigna.com/" rel="homepage" title="Cigna">Cigna</a>, etc. Here's the catch: Before they'll provide an "online" quote, they need to gather some information. Heaven forbid your height and weight don't line up against the charts or you have a rash that requires a prescription ointment. I acknowledge that I'll never make the cover the annual Fireman's Calendar. I am not blessed with a poster child physique. I like to think of myself as vertically challenged. And forget about "neglecting" to mention a pre-existing condition. Good luck getting a prescription covered for that minor lapse of memory.<br />
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After I filled in the information, thinking there were still a few steps remaining, I made my fatal error. Mouse click. Within five minutes my phone started ringing. Endlessly. One call after another with "good news, we found a plan that will take pity on your soul and cover you." The price range came in from $571 to $1600 monthly, depending on whether I wanted band-aid coverage or something more complicated like sterile gauze. At this point, I felt obligated to add another pre-existing condition: spontaneous heart attack. Health care reform? Honestly, I don't give a damn who is right or who is wrong. But <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nancy_Reagan" rel="wikipedia" title="Nancy Reagan">Nancy Reagan</a>'s "just say no" campaign is not the answer to anything beside the war on drugs. Perhaps we can agree the status quo is not acceptable, and healthcare and the economy are connected at the hip. Or the thigh bone. You can finish it from this point.<br />
<br />
Some of these online "brokers" were offering legitimate, if not absurdly priced products. Others were straight out fraud. Prenegotiated fees arranged by the bartering company. It isn't insurance. You pay 100% of their negotiated price. And you have the privilege of paying the barter company $450 a month for their negotiating skills. I'm not a health care expert, but I'm confident many people are being cheated out of their remaining funds. <br />
<br />
The irony in this, is that a part of me finds this lead generation fascinating. For three months, I was promised "leads" by an Electrical Energy Provider as I tried to sell this commodity to area businesses. I received four dead-end leads. These leads were provided, not by online pre-qualifying contact, but rather by contractors like myself, who put their feet on the pavement and knocked on doors. Our cold calling goal was to get contract and provider information before we were tossed out of the business. We were developing leads for the big guys in the office and the contractors were pretty much disposable, since few of us would make a living while waiting for the potential client's energy agreement to expire.<br />
<br />
Yet, in just a matter of minutes, no less than 30 sales reps had my phone number and basic information. My only consolation, is that at least 29 of them will get the same rejection that I received when knocking on doors. At least they didn't wear out their shoes. </div></div></div></div></div><div class="zemanta-pixie" sizcache="26349" sizset="1" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" sizcache="26349" sizset="1" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=7639c34e-b4e4-4114-bee0-bba32b42fc25" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; float: right;" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-48453573968331047742010-10-23T10:04:00.000-07:002010-11-14T07:48:03.417-08:00Stream without a ThemeWhile I haven’t written many blogs of late, the few I have written usually have a theme or a point to them. Or at least, I’d like to think they have some kind of open and close with a modicum of logic in the middle. But apparently, I haven’t felt strongly enough to dedicate a brief article to any one thought; so I've used that as my excuse to not post any comments. Today, I’ll pretend I’m <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0005200/" rel="imdb" title="Paul McCartney">McCartney</a> and <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0006168/" rel="imdb" title="John Lennon">Lennon</a> and string together a bunch of little things that have been on my mind and see if I end up with a hit record. They were pretty good at this technique.<br />
<br />
So, first things first. The old sayings are true: there are some things you should never argue about.<br />
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Politics for example. I’m always amazed at how little “gray” there is to someone’s point of view. All in or all out. Right/wrong. Settle? Negotiate? Please. Most of us are terribly ill informed about the truth. We get our news and form our opinions from slanted news delivered by papers, television and political commentators, and radio hosts, who are, by their own admission, entertainers – not politicians. Still, that doesn’t stop them from adding fuel to the fire with opinions that have little bearing on truth. If a candidate makes a simple slip, it’s headline material. Remember <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dan_Quayle" rel="wikipedia" title="Dan Quayle">Dan Quayle</a>? How many of us would miss a word or two in a spelling bee? Or the witch who isn’t a witch, who doesn’t know any recent <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lists_of_United_States_Supreme_Court_cases" rel="wikipedia" title="Lists of United States Supreme Court cases">Supreme Court decisions</a> (do you?); but she did know the exact wording of the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/First_Amendment_to_the_United_States_Constitution" rel="wikipedia" title="First Amendment to the United States Constitution">1st Amendment</a> and got reamed for saying the constitution never says, “Separation and State.” It doesn’t. Those words came from <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Jefferson" rel="wikipedia" title="Thomas Jefferson">Thomas Jefferson</a>. She’s running for <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Governors_of_Delaware" rel="wikipedia" title="List of Governors of Delaware">Governor of Delaware</a>. In a viral world, half-truths are disseminated as though they are fact; and spread like an epidemic.<br />
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The ugliness of today’s politics is tiring. If it’s your idea, I vote against it. If it’s my idea, you vote against it. What would we do if we both had the same idea? Uh oh. Third party. I had a local candidate come to my door and brag about how he’s going to cut the Texas budget, protect our borders, stop illegal immigration and so on. He hit on all the state and national issues. Of course he’s running for State Representative, so he can pretty much limit his influence on repaving Dairy Ashford and Kirkwood; which would be enough to earn my vote. I asked him how our Governor could say we have a balanced budget in a <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Television_advertisement" rel="wikipedia" title="Television advertisement">TV ad</a>, deny an $18 billion deficit, and admit to an $18 billion shortfall. He responded by noting his opponent was a lobbyist for ACORN. I’m still trying to figure out the connection. So in the end, the only good thing coming from this election is all the extra paper I’m getting from junk mail to earn points when I recycle.<br />
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Another futile argument? Religion. I still haven’t figured out why someone has to be wrong for someone else to be right. I was enjoying the company of some very religious friends last week. The conversation drifted to our beliefs. I was asked, “What if you’re wrong?” Wouldn’t it be better to just accept our Savior as an insurance policy in case your God isn’t the One?” I just don’t see how having semi-commitments to an Almighty would work. It’s not like a game show where you get a consolation prize when if loose. Besides, most of us know we pay <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.wikinvest.com/industry/Insurance" rel="wikinvest" title="Insurance">insurance premiums</a> and hope we never have to use them. I don’t know that I could say, “My policy has this covered” Lord … under Section 1, paragraph. The bottom line on religion is that none of us will truly know until we’ve passed. Then, we may find we were all right, some of us were right, none of us were right or; we just fade to black without any answers at all. Some may think I have faith in the wrong God; but I’ll tell you I talk, He listens, and I have peace in my heart. What more could one ask?<br />
<br />
Wives. Never, never, argue with them. They are always right. We are never right. Even when we are, we’ll pay a price for being right, so in this case, cover the bet. You know the joke, “if a man is talking to himself in the woods is he still wrong?” Yes. My wife and I don’t argue often. Why bother. She’s usually right. OK, always right.<br />
<br />
Next stream of consciousness comes from the job market and unemployment. I have a friend who was recently “laid off” and is learning how to deal with joblessness after being employed for 15 years. He’s discovering the joy of dealing with <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Unemployment_benefits" rel="wikipedia" title="Unemployment benefits">Unemployment Benefits</a>, COBRA, and packing up and selling his home. He’s learning how difficult it is to find good leads; and when he does, the salary is anemic at best. I can relate. I’m now entering my 17 month of unemployment. I’ve had a few close calls, but they only count in horse shoes and hand grenades. I never wanted to be an expert in how to stay positive during these times, but fate has led me to be an encourager. The most challenging part of staying positive is dealing with disappointment. When I actually get a solid lead and begin to believe it may actually come together into a real job; it’s devastating when it falls apart. There are times I almost wish I didn’t get the hope. But then I see the positive to the disappointment: at least someone saw value in my abilities. I have so many friends and acquaintances that I speak with each week in the same boat, seeking the same life raft and hoping for the same miracle. A friend once told me “Misery is a team sport.” Please. Go play by yourself. I take no solace in my misfortune, let alone anyone else’s.<br />
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Finally, I never met Tom Land aside from "friending" him on Facebook. I’ve heard he’s a nice guy. He’s a nice guy with a serious health issue and he’s fighting for his life every day. And every day, Tom or his wife, or daughter, post a blog talking about their battle, the treatment, how he feels, how he’s progressing, regressing … fighting to win his war. Tom has a job, I don’t. Tom has a serious illness. I don’t. Would I want to trade places? Not for a minute. Puts things in perspective, doesn’t it?<br />
<div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=e065abd1-ddf9-4362-b18b-92a4f1685070" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; float: right;" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-35756685622535304212010-05-16T14:31:00.000-07:002010-05-16T14:35:38.722-07:00Perfect Strangers – Not ReallyTo be honest, I can’t think of many worse things than being seated at a party with a bunch of strangers. After all, we have little in common (aside from knowing one of our hosts), the small talk is forced, and the silence is awkward. Besides that, some people hog the bread and never pass the butter. But last night, something magical happened as we attended a wedding dinner hosted by the newly married couple. My wife and I sat at a table with three other couples, some knew the bride, some the groom, and no-one knew each other. Yet, somehow, we ended up being the last table to call it a night.<br /><br />As a group we were Republicans, we were Democrats, we were conservative, we were liberal, we were Christian and we were Jewish. Basically, we broke every rule of engagement by discussing topics that are viewed as no-win scenarios. Yet, in the words of Rodney King, “we all got along.” Two of our table members were in the Oil & Gas industry, one works for British Petroleum. So, we talked about the disaster in the Gulf. We talked about finger pointing and refusal to share responsibility (note I didn’t say blame). I noted that hindsight, being 20/20 always asks the “why” questions after the fact. The fact is this is probably the first major disaster we’ve had from offshore drilling in decades and it corrupts the entire concept. We take technology for granted until something goes wrong. Want proof? Look at our Shuttle program. Until we had a disaster in space, no-one was paying any attention to our launches and returns. It didn’t dawn on us that astronauts risk their lives on every mission any more than we realize the inherent danger in offshore exploration. One of our conversationalists was inherently familiar with refining and reminisced there were fires at processing plants in Baytown on a daily basis for years, but now that it only happens once or twice a decade, it’s scandalous. It’s been more than thirty years since Three Mile Island, yet should there be another incident at a nuclear power facility the entire industry will be investigated. Accidents happen. That’s why they’re called accidents.<br /><br />The oil discussion led us to the politics of blame. Again, we were surprised to agree more than disagree. One Republican activist admitted she’s voted for Republicans she can’t stand, but felt compelled because of her party affiliations. Another guest, a political strategist acknowledged what many of us feel, which is we’re sick of all of them. The building backlash for the incumbent is giving opportunity to new challengers. If you’re Republican vote for a different Republican, if you’re a Democrat, vote for a different Democrat. We talked about hypocrisy: how one gubernatorial candidate preached reduced federal spending, only to lose the primary, return to Washington and join the list of the highest pork barrel legislator in America. Good for Texas, not so good for America. Then we talked about how congress worked around the NASA’s Constellation cuts by adding to a war spending bill. Again, it’s good for Texas, but still, more federal spending. Who says we can’t have it both ways? So, our consensus was that we need to have a bill that says a bill can only deal with one subject. If it’s a bill for hearing, you can’t add sight to it. Period.<br /><br />Part of the problem, we agreed, was the Internet. One person can post an absolutely false accusation, and in moments the message is spread worldwide and has instantly become a “fact.” And we agreed the media has become part of the problem as it seeks to create news rather than be content in reporting the news. Do you think your local I-Team on TV would have reported the JFK/Marilyn Monroe relationship? They would now, ask Bill Clinton. We’ve become lazy. We don’t need all the facts to form an opinion. We glean our information from Internet headlines. Every day I receive emails informing me of my Nigerian inheritance, or warn me of scams and viruses that will melt my computer. None of them true, but still, someone felt the need to forward the message and post it on Facebook to warn their friends. Many of whom they never met. It appears we base our opinion on the little we know about the subject, and usually our information comes from what someone else thinks. Honestly, if Congress doesn’t know what was in the health bill, do we really belief some blogger read the entire document?<br /><br />Finally, our diverse group of strangers had unity on supporting our troops regardless of our feelings toward conflict. We had a former serviceman at the table, parents of servicemen at the table, people for the Iraqi occupation and those against. But in contrast to our Vietnam veterans, we agreed that supporting our troops was non-negotiable. We sat in awe of the patriotism our children possess for America; and we regretted we didn’t have that same patriotism during Vietnam. We are horrified at the way our Vietnam veterans were treated when they returned home; and we are thrilled at the way our troops are respected now. Truth be told, the moral of the story is that we shouldn’t let our political views cloud our pride in America. Those kids are fighting for our right to argue and protest. We CAN respectfully disagree. We can “all get along.” It’s time again for America to walk with a bit of a swagger and realize that as a melting pot of cultures, we have differences. But our diversity is really our common ground.<br /><br />All it took was a dinner party with perfect strangers to see how well we knew each other. We were able to reach across the table and pass the bread and butter. So, why can’t our elected officials reach across the aisle?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-50811322203931940302010-04-06T09:59:00.000-07:002010-04-06T10:19:43.274-07:00Just Do It!<p style="MARGIN: 1em; WIDTH: 282px; DISPLAY: block; FLOAT: right" class="zemanta-img" sizcache="12" sizset="0"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:AirmaxBWJPG.jpg" sizcache="11" sizset="0"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; WIDTH: 272px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 170px; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BORDER-RIGHT: medium none" alt="{{frUne paire de Nike Air Max IV (Air Classic..." src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/7/71/AirmaxBWJPG.jpg/300px-AirmaxBWJPG.jpg" width="300" height="225" /></a><span class="zemanta-img-attribution">Image via <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:AirmaxBWJPG.jpg">Wikipedia</a></span></p>Years ago, Nike created a memorable <a class="zem_slink freebase/en/marketing" title="Marketing" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marketing" rel="wikipedia">marketing</a> campaign with “Just Do It.” The concept was “don’t procrastinate,” “don’t find excuses to fail,” - Just Do It. Of course, Nike had the equipment to help you get it done. People were motivated and sales rocketed. Too bad we can’t take this “just do it” concept and move it into our daily lives. But we no longer stop at procrastinating. Now, many of us go out of our way to say it – but not do it. I’m not talking about losing ten pounds and then gaining three; or, putting off a house repair for a variety of excuses, some valid, others not. Although those certainly qualify. I’m referring to things like a friend who says he’ll call and doesn’t. That’s happened to me more times than I can count, but that’s because I usually stop when I run out of fingers. No sense going to the toes, it only adds salt to the wound.<br /><br />What really bugs me is when I contact the friend and point out he/she failed to call, they dismiss it as no big deal. Not that my schedule is that busy these days, but still, I gave up something to wait for a call that never came. I might have wanted to start some yard work, or go to a movie. Winston, my Yorkie, likes to take me for walks. So, to me, being “stood up” is a big deal. It’s ok if I waste my time; it’s not okay if someone else does.<br /><br />I attended a sales seminar last week. The speaker was trying to get me to own my own “business.” My very own Travel Club. It could make me rich. He’s a millionaire so I can be, too. After all the claims were delivered, our motivational speaker saw I wasn’t convinced. I noted his math didn’t add up, that my “business” was the same website as everyone else in the club and that while he said no sales would be involved, my income would be dependent on how many friends I signed up for the program and how much travel everyone bought. As a last resort, he suggested I “just do it.” Take a leap of faith and figure it out on the way down. If he had thrown in a Nike parachute I might have given it more thought, but my mother used to ask, “If someone told you to jump off a bridge, would you?” (FYI, the correct answer is no).<br /><br />For years, <a class="zem_slink freebase/en/comcast" title="Comcast" href="http://comcast.com/" rel="homepage">Comcast</a> told us how they were “Comcastic.” At least for me, they didn’t live up to the promise. AT&T Uverse promises a better experience. Today, I learned I can’t dial 311 (city services) on my phone, or 411. I have to get regular AT&T phone service for that. I thought I had the “latest and greatest” in communication only to find out the old land line does something the new digital service can’t. Can I dial 911? The customer service representative assured me that will work. I’m not looking forward to finding out – one way or the other.<br /><br />Last night, my wife was wondering how we can get some of the secondary digital channels we see promoted on the local stations. I took out my channel guide, went through 400+ “channels” and not one was the secondary broadcast from our local stations. Undaunted, I called customer service and asked where I might find these broadcasts. He referred me to the website. He was too lazy to get my answer, so he thought I should just do it. He did, of course, thank me for calling and told me to have a nice day. By the way, the website has no information on local channels, so I thought I’d call a local station to get the information. The switchboard operator understood my question, but apparently no-one in management had the foresight to prepare her for such a question. With Uverse growing so rapidly, one would think that a TV station, with a vested interest in promoting their product, would make sure their programming is available on Uverse. Perhaps it’s a cost vs. reward conundrum.<br /><br />But “thinking” isn’t always a management strong suit. My latest example is from our beloved City of Houston. Mayor Anise Parker ran on a platform of fiscal responsibility. Who better than her, she asked, is able to control city expenses? I could.<br /><br />Apparently, effective in April, the city decided that all yard waste must be placed in city approved biodegradable plastic bags. A great idea. I just wish they had told us. In the last several weeks, I’ve received at least four letters from Waste Management Services informing me of pick-up and <a class="zem_slink freebase/en/recycling" title="Recycling" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Recycling" rel="wikipedia">recycling</a> schedule changes. In not one of those letters did anyone mention the need for special bags. On Sunday evening, I placed my yard waste at the curb in recyclable-biodegradable paper bags for Monday pickup. The bags even say “ideal for composting.” My bags were left behind, with a green sticker informing me of the change to the rules. Channel 13 ran a story last night telling viewers of the new regulations. By then, it was too late for my neighborhood. I guess Dave Ward didn’t consider the story “<a class="zem_slink freebase/en/breaking_news" title="Breaking news" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Breaking_news" rel="wikipedia">breaking news</a>.” So, with deference to State Farm, like a good neighbor, I pulled my yard waste bags back to my storage area only to hear the trucks come and pick them up the next morning. By the way, that’s when I learned I couldn’t make a 311 call on Uverse!<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/S7tsfuYoEGI/AAAAAAAAACM/PMOsWr-812o/s1600/News+Alert.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 262px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 145px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457074665772552290" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/S7tsfuYoEGI/AAAAAAAAACM/PMOsWr-812o/s320/News+Alert.jpg" /></a><br />I called City Hall (they have a real phone number) and spoke with a very nice City Services Representative. She explained the new law and said that if they left a sticker on your bag they would come back the next day to pick them up. “How was I to know this,” I asked? That information wasn’t on the sticker. It was an “I gotcha” moment. I also asked where I could find these special bags. The representative gave me a list of places such as grocery stores and hardware/home improvement stores. I’ve been in each of them several times over the last month and I have yet to see any display saying “here they are … you must have these.” Clearly, I wasn’t alone, my street was lined with unrecyclable plastic yard bags; and only a few lazy neighbors were rewarded for their lack of effort when the trucks returned the following day.<br /><br />Now, if I were Mayor, I would have made sure the TV and Radio stations had the information BEFORE the bags were needed, not the day after. I would have made sure the Sunday Chronicle carried the story on the front page of at least the local section. I certainly would have included the message in any of the countless letters that were mailed to every household in the city. And, I would have picked up the yard waste bags and left a note in the mailbox or front door. Instead, they fired up the trucks a second day, drove them around the neighborhoods they had just visited and created unnecessary salary and fuel expenses. Let’s not forget Waste Management is now running late for the Tuesday neighborhoods, because they had to retrace their Monday routes. No doubt, on Wednesday, they’ll retrace their Tuesday route. I’m sure this is logical to someone, but I don’t know why they are in management.<br /><br />Here’s an odd notion. If you say you’re going to do something … actually do it. Oh, and if you’re going to do something, let someone know. Maybe that’s the next great add campaign: “Let Someone Know.”<br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="MARGIN-TOP: 10px; HEIGHT: 15px" class="zemanta-pixie" sizcache="11" sizset="1"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" title="Reblog this post [with Zemanta]" href="http://reblog.zemanta.com/zemified/74fe26fa-d6c3-4ed2-8c12-c6824d553854/" sizcache="11" sizset="1"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; FLOAT: right; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BORDER-RIGHT: medium none" class="zemanta-pixie-img" alt="Reblog this post [with Zemanta]" src="http://img.zemanta.com/reblog_e.png?x-id=74fe26fa-d6c3-4ed2-8c12-c6824d553854" /></a><span class="zem-script more-related more-info pretty-attribution"><br /><script type="text/javascript" src="http://static.zemanta.com/readside/loader.js"></script><br /><br /><br /><br /></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-7244443769510267842010-03-12T08:15:00.001-08:002010-11-14T07:50:50.425-08:00The Name Game<div class="zemanta-img" sizcache="18" sizset="0" style="display: block; float: right; margin: 1em; width: 277px;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Mister_Ed.png" sizcache="17" sizset="0"><img alt="Mister Ed" height="239" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/3/3e/Mister_Ed.png" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; display: block;" width="267" /></a><span class="zemanta-img-attribution" sizcache="16" sizset="1">Image via <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Mister_Ed.png">Wikipedia</a></span></div><span xmlns=""></span><span xmlns=""></span><span xmlns=""></span><span xmlns=""></span><span xmlns=""></span><span xmlns=""></span><span xmlns=""></span><span xmlns=""></span><span sizcache="16" sizset="2" xmlns=""><div sizcache="16" sizset="2">You may have seen the reports where Lindsey Lohan is suing <a href="http://www.etrade.com/">E*TRADE</a> because the name Lindsey was used in a recent <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lEXZ2hfD3bU&feature=player_embedded">commercial featuring babies</a>. The babies in the commercial referred to a "milkaholic, Lindsey." Apparently, Ms. Lohan feels she is in the league of <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000187/" rel="imdb" title="Madonna (entertainer)">Madonna</a>, Oprah, <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000333/" rel="imdb" title="Cher">Cher</a>, Sting, and Bono who have earned the benefit of instant recognition. Maybe it's me, but I don't think Lindsey has earned the right to drop the Lohan.</div>But in a sense, I'm rooting for her. If Ms. Lohan wins her $100 million lawsuit, the case will serve as precedence for me. I'll never have to work again. And, I'll have enough money for my children's grandchildren. You see, I own the name Ed. And frankly, people have been illegally using my name to their benefit for decades.<br />
Don't believe me? Here are some examples:<br />
<ul sizcache="16" sizset="6" style="margin-left: 38pt;"><li>The TV Show called, "Mr. Ed." That's my name. I didn't make a dime off that show. I should have. For goodness sake, they called me a horse.</li>
<li sizcache="16" sizset="6">The motion picture, "<a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.amazon.com/EdTV-Collectors-Matthew-McConaughey/dp/B00000JMOD%3FSubscriptionId%3D0G81C5DAZ03ZR9WH9X82%26tag%3Dzemanta-20%26linkCode%3Dxm2%26camp%3D2025%26creative%3D165953%26creativeASIN%3DB00000JMOD" rel="amazon" title="EdTV (Collector's Edition)">EDtv</a>" starring <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000190/" rel="imdb" title="Matthew McConaughey">Matthew McConaughey</a> and directed by Ron Howard. They have lots of money and they made it off my name. Add in the other stars in the film, like <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001122/" rel="imdb" title="Ellen DeGeneres">Ellen DeGeneres</a>, <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001445/" rel="imdb" title="Martin Landau">Martin Landau</a>, <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001661/" rel="imdb" title="Rob Reiner">Rob Reiner</a>, <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000454/" rel="imdb" title="Dennis Hopper">Dennis Hopper</a>, and Elizabeth Hurley and I may have just hit the mother-load.</li>
<li sizcache="16" sizset="12">The TV Show, "Ed." Don't remember that one? It aired from 2000-2004. It was about a lawyer who decided to return to his home town and own a bowling alley. While the star of the show Tom Cavanagh hasn't become a big star, cast members Julie Bowen went on to Boston Legal and now Family Matters. And Justin Long has had roles in a <a class="zem_slink" href="http://anyclip.com/live-free-or-die-hard" rel="anyclip" title="Live Free or Die Hard">Die Hard 4</a>, Dodgeball and a bunch of commercials for Mac. He's dating <a class="zem_slink" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000106/" rel="imdb" title="Drew Barrymore">Drew Barrymore</a>. And here's the real jackpot, the show was produced by David Letterman's company, "Worldwide Pants." Ka-Ching!</li>
<li>Let's not forget "Living With Ed," starring Ed Begley, Jr. Not familiar with this one? It's about a nutcase (okay, a very rich nutcase) who spends millions of dollars on energy saving appliances to save 10 cents on his utility bill. This is the same guy the government chose to use in the Census commercials. I wonder if he knows how many trees were killed in the filming of that commercial.</li>
</ul>But there's lots more money to be made. Why stop at TV shows and movies? My name has been claimed by a disease. You've heard of ED. This is a double suit waiting to happen. First, the creators of the disease <span style="text-decoration: underline;">E</span>rectile <span style="text-decoration: underline;">D</span>ysfunction abbreviated their name to ED. Second, by making a long name into an abbreviation, the makers of Viagra, Cialis, and the other ED drugs are making humor at my personal expense. They <em>shortened</em> the full name of the disease. I'm short. That hurts. I'm a sensitive guy. I'm thinking Class Action for this egregious violation of my name. And don't get me started that the disease is for a body part that should never be shortened (except maybe at a Bris). That should be worth something.<br />
<div style="margin-left: 2pt;">Let's not forget what our learning centers have done at my expense.</div><ul style="margin-left: 38pt;"><li>Higher Education has become Higher Ed. A clear drug reference at my expense.</li>
<li>Special Education is now Special Ed. Is that anything like Advanced Placement? I don't think so.</li>
<li>Physical Education has become Phys Ed. Another short joke, not to mention my aversion to exercise. I wrestle with my conscience. It's exhausting.</li>
<li>The Board of Education has become Board Ed. A simple typo and I'm Bored Ed which is injurious to my personal reputation and snappy personality.</li>
</ul>Honestly, I'm not going to stand for this. I'll be watching Lindsey's case very carefully. I'm on her side, because if Ms. Lohan can win her suit, I can win mine. And then, I'm going after the little guys.<br />
So, a word to the wise, if you own an Ed's Plumbing, Ed's Diner, Ed's Exxon, Ed's Butcher Shop, Ed's Dry Cleaner, Ed's Electrical Repair, Ed's Appliances, or Ed's Heating & AC ... I'm coming after you!<br />
<div style="margin-left: 2pt;"><br />
</div></span><br />
<div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=9f9dbbb3-9af7-465b-b9b3-5d18d004be4c" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; float: right;" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-70428356845741789472010-03-09T10:03:00.001-08:002010-03-27T09:03:46.390-07:00What Have I Done, Lately?<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HbJHkwHZCCM&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HbJHkwHZCCM&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><span xmlns=""><p>I like to think of myself as a fairly good conversationalist. My wife likes to say I could carry on a conversation with a tree. Honestly, unlimited minutes were invented for people like me. I took a public speaking course in college, and my assignment was to discuss the qualities of a pocket comb. I found so many things to discuss my instructor just gave me an "A" and told me to sit down. I had utilized most of the 50 minute class.<br /></p><p>So, imagine my surprise when I was asked a question at a recent job interview that had me stumped. I was asked, "What have you done to improve yourself while you've been out of work?" Thankfully, I avoided my typical smart-ass remark, "what's to improve?" But seriously, what have I done to improve myself over these past several months?<br /></p><p>The best I could come up with, at the spur of the moment, was some inane response that I've been taking daily walks with my dog, reading, and playing on Facebook and Twitter. Maybe Proctor and Gamble would call that "New and Improved," but by my standards I fell short. Really, what have I done to improve myself since I've been out of work? The most obvious answer is I've looked for work. Constantly. That's not really improving myself; it's more of a survival project.<br /></p><p>But the more I think about it, the more I realized an opportunity to recognize several things that have been happening while I've been sitting at this keyboard each day. I've learned how persistent and determined I am about finding work. I realized how fortunate I am to have a wife, children, and friends who offer constant and uplifting support (not to mention a free meal every now and then). I have a dog that is content to spend the day in my office while I impersonate <a class="zem_slink freebase/en/sherlock_holmes" title="Sherlock Holmes" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sherlock_Holmes" rel="wikipedia">Sherlock Holmes</a> and search for openings. I have faith. I don't know if I've improved, but I am certainly more aware of the blessings in my life.<br /></p><p>I volunteered to help a wonderful group help rebuild homes in <a class="zem_slink freebase/en/hurricane_ike" title="Hurricane Ike" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hurricane_Ike" rel="wikipedia">Hurricane Ike</a> ravaged Galveston. And yes, I have been reading more. To the point where I'm feeling guilty about the trees I've destroyed with all my hardcover and paperback books. Perhaps we should consider a Kindle, or a new <a class="zem_slink" title="iPad" href="http://www.apple.com/ipad/" rel="homepage">iPad</a>. I have a friend who sells the new "Nook" from <a class="zem_slink freebase/en/barnes_noble" title="Barnes & Noble" href="http://www.barnesandnobleinc.com/" rel="homepage">Barnes & Noble</a>. Maybe he could get me a deal, so I could read as much as I want and never kill another tree. Except for the one in my yard which I cut down thinking the winter freeze had killed it. But that's another story.<br /></p><p>I've learned I really can stick to a schedule when no-one is saying "the work day starts at 8:30." I've learned I can be positive and upbeat when disappointment happens. I've fallen in love with my wife all over again, because I see how hard she works, without the benefit of a support group, to make sure I stay positive. I've been reminded life is too short to be small. I think those are improvements. And, I've learned there are ways to cook besides grilling. While I've avoided the TV talk show queens, I have fallen for the <a class="zem_slink freebase/en/food_network" title="Food Network" href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/" rel="homepage">Food Network</a> and Travel Channel. Thankfully, I have the willpower to only succumb to their charm in the evening. Shows like Man vs. Food, Diners and Drive-Ins, & Dives, inspire me. Not to make a twelve pound burger; but to make something besides grilled chicken. Did you know there are other spices and seasonings besides Cavendar's and Accent? At least once a week, I'll go online, or pull out one of my wife's cookbooks and try something different. I've even clipped recipes from the Chronicle! Not necessarily complicated, but different. I made a mango salsa. Ok, I used canned peaches instead of mango, but I did put in parsley and other green things I wouldn't normally touch. I don't know why, but I also added jalapeno, though it wasn't in the recipe. The heat of the pepper, the cool of the peach … no kidding, gives it a try. My wife liked it so much she went and bought a mango and made her own version of the salsa, complete with jalapenos.<br /></p><p>Of course, when I get inspired, throw things into a rub or a marinade, and create something wonderful I have no way to duplicate the recipe, because I really have no idea what I'm doing. I'm reminded of when my mother would say "a pinch of this and a pinch of that" when I asked how she made something. When I watch the Food Network, I see great chefs saying "a little of this-a little of that" and they just dump handfuls of spices into their recipes. I doubt anything they make comes out the same way twice. So if my mom could make it up, my wife can make it up, and these chefs can make it up, I can, too. So, I've learned to cook.<br /></p><p>Now, ask me again, "what have you done to improve yourself while you've been out of work?"<br /></p><p>Nothing. What's to improve?<br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p></span><br /><fieldset class="zemanta-related"><legend class="zemanta-related-title">Related articles by Zemanta</legend><ul class="zemanta-article-ul" sizcache="31" sizset="0"><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://www.thesuggestr.com/blog/?p=151">Man vs. Food Map</a> (thesuggestr.com)</li><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://trueslant.com/matthewgreenberg/2009/11/25/food-tv-iron-chef-anthony-bourdain-food-network-masculine-food-adam-richman-travel-channel/">'Iron Chef,' iron stomach: the 'masculinization' of food on TV</a> (trueslant.com)</li></ul></fieldset> <div style="MARGIN-TOP: 10px; HEIGHT: 15px" class="zemanta-pixie"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" title="Reblog this post [with Zemanta]" href="http://reblog.zemanta.com/zemified/cdea2fc9-4167-48a7-be0d-e0b15ece3d4f/"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; FLOAT: right; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BORDER-RIGHT: medium none" class="zemanta-pixie-img" alt="Reblog this post [with Zemanta]" src="http://img.zemanta.com/reblog_e.png?x-id=cdea2fc9-4167-48a7-be0d-e0b15ece3d4f" /></a><span class="zem-script more-related more-info pretty-attribution"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://static.zemanta.com/readside/loader.js"></script><br /><br /><br /></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-40048199828226750662010-02-12T15:30:00.000-08:002010-03-27T10:12:46.579-07:00Opposites Attract<p style="MARGIN: 1em; WIDTH: 274px; DISPLAY: block; FLOAT: right" class="zemanta-img" sizcache="27" sizset="0"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Men-Are-Mars-Women-Venus/dp/0694517208%3FSubscriptionId%3D0G81C5DAZ03ZR9WH9X82%26tag%3Dzemanta-20%26linkCode%3Dxm2%26camp%3D2025%26creative%3D165953%26creativeASIN%3D0694517208" sizcache="26" sizset="0"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; DISPLAY: block; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BORDER-RIGHT: medium none" alt="'Cover" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/512PW0HNHXL._SL300_.jpg" width="264" height="300" /></a><span class="zemanta-img-attribution">Cover of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Men-Are-Mars-Women-Venus/dp/0694517208%3FSubscriptionId%3D0G81C5DAZ03ZR9WH9X82%26tag%3Dzemanta-20%26linkCode%3Dxm2%26camp%3D2025%26creative%3D165953%26creativeASIN%3D0694517208">Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus</a></span></p><p style="MARGIN: 1em; WIDTH: 310px; DISPLAY: block; FLOAT: right" class="zemanta-img zemanta-action-dragged"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Bowl_of_chicken_soup.jpg"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; DISPLAY: block; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BORDER-RIGHT: medium none" alt="Chicken soup" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/b/b8/Bowl_of_chicken_soup.jpg/300px-Bowl_of_chicken_soup.jpg" width="300" height="272" /></a><span class="zemanta-img-attribution">Image via <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Bowl_of_chicken_soup.jpg">Wikipedia</a></span></p>My wife and I may be proof of the old saying, “opposites attract.” She’s a Texan, I’m a Connecticut Yankee. She’s <a class="zem_slink" title="Christian" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christian" rel="wikipedia">Christian</a>, I’m <a class="zem_slink" title="Judaism" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Judaism" rel="wikipedia">Jewish</a>. She’s politically conservative, I lean toward the liberal. We do see eye to eye on some things, but that’s mostly because she’s 5’1” and I’m 5’2”.<br /><br />Back in 1992, <a class="zem_slink" title="John Gray" href="http://musicbrainz.org/artist/10e82073-3da5-4d1d-b4f0-d83340289592.html" rel="musicbrainz">John Gray</a> published his book, “<a class="zem_slink" title="Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus" href="http://www.amazon.com/Men-Are-Mars-Women-Venus/dp/0694517208%3FSubscriptionId%3D0G81C5DAZ03ZR9WH9X82%26tag%3Dzemanta-20%26linkCode%3Dxm2%26camp%3D2025%26creative%3D165953%26creativeASIN%3D0694517208" rel="amazon">Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus</a>.” I never read the book. But I suspect he found some empirical evidence that we really do see things differently. For example, my wife loves soup. I like it, too. I just don’t love it. To me, soup is either an appetizer or something to eat when I’m not feeling well. To my wife, soup is an entire dinner.<br /><br />In fairness, my wife makes great soup. She makes a <a class="zem_slink" title="Chicken soup" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chicken_soup" rel="wikipedia">chicken soup</a> that would do my Bubby proud. She makes a great split pea soup, a delicious beef & barley soup, a knock-out chili (it’s kind of soup) and really good stews. But it’s soup. Liquid. Something I slurp. Loudly. I’d be better off drinking a glass of water. I can do that quietly and I’m far less likely to drip some on my shirt.<br /><br />Soup is something my wife particularly likes on cold, rainy days. Since I can’t barbeque on those kinds of days, I accept the inevitable potpourri of liquid, vegetables and whatever chicken or beef is in the freezer. But lately, my wife has been working several days a week while I concentrate on finding my next job. She’s the breadwinner. I try to find ways to contribute by running errands, grocery shopping, making dinner, and filing for unemployment.<br /><br />Yesterday was a particularly wet and cold day and my wife was at work. I thought I’d do something nice and take a stab at making some chicken soup. I found a Jewish cookbook (who knows more about chicken soup) and started the process. I cut up celery, carrots, cabbage, and onions. I found some fresh garlic and ginger. I added some <a class="zem_slink" title="Stock (food)" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stock_%28food%29" rel="wikipedia">soup stock</a> and bouillon and chicken breast meat. I even found a box of Matzoh Ball mix. Then, I began my witches brew.<br /><br />I boiled and stirred, I simmered and stirred and to my amazement, the Matzoh Balls came out large and fluffy (my mother would have been jealous); and the soup actually tasted like something my wife would have made. I was very proud of myself. After all, I’d made my wife’s favorite dinner. Soup.<br /><br />When she came home, my wife’s first words were, “something smells delicious.” I couldn’t have been happier. Until her next sentence. “I hope you’re not making chicken soup.” That’s where “Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus” comes to play. My wife was upset that I had taken her joy of making soup and that I had made something I had rejected for dinner just the night before when it was cold but not rainy.<br /><br />And in the words of Claire Boothe Luce, “no good deed goes unpunished.” I thought I was doing something thoughtful. My wife thought differently. And my wife is always right. I learned that early in our courtship. So, I've learned my lesson. I can make dinner for my wife, but not soup. I need to stick to grilling. If anyone can make spaghetti on a Weber grill, please let me know.<br /><br />Who knew making soup could get me in such hot water?<br /><fieldset class="zemanta-related"><legend class="zemanta-related-title">Related articles by Zemanta</legend><ul class="zemanta-article-ul" sizcache="28" sizset="0"><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://www.momblognetwork.com/content/chicken-soup-soul-true-love-winners">Chicken Soup for the Soul: True Love Winners</a> (momblognetwork.com)</li><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://amancine.blogspot.com/2010/01/is-there-anything-better-than-steaming.html">it doesn't come in cans</a> (amancine.blogspot.com)</li><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://dailywd.womansday.com/blog/2009/11/dinner-diary-chicken-noodle-soup.html">Dinner Diary: Chicken Noodle Soup</a> (dailywd.womansday.com)</li><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://www.ohmyachesandpains.info/2010/03/comfort-food-soup-for-days.html">Comfort Food: Soup for Days</a> (ohmyachesandpains.info)</li></ul></fieldset> <div style="MARGIN-TOP: 10px; HEIGHT: 15px" class="zemanta-pixie" sizcache="26" sizset="1"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" title="Reblog this post [with Zemanta]" href="http://reblog.zemanta.com/zemified/a1469974-2eee-4c40-bbf5-8691929957f5/" sizcache="26" sizset="1"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; FLOAT: right; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BORDER-RIGHT: medium none" class="zemanta-pixie-img" alt="Reblog this post [with Zemanta]" src="http://img.zemanta.com/reblog_e.png?x-id=a1469974-2eee-4c40-bbf5-8691929957f5" /></a><span class="zem-script more-related more-info pretty-attribution"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://static.zemanta.com/readside/loader.js"></script><br /><br /><br /><br /></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-873290967629502554.post-52270871625929914922010-01-15T14:39:00.000-08:002010-03-27T09:15:31.176-07:00What's In A Word?<div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 159px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 68px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453346193520573458" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9JILC5ySjYM/S64teE4FvBI/AAAAAAAAAA8/i7uBHo8wZHw/s320/Linkedin.bmp" /><br /><br /><div>I was having lunch the other day with an area sales manager who represents some cutting edge technology. For a change, I could actually understand what this company was trying to accomplish rather than have someone with a pocket protector unsuccessfully try to explain the simplicity of an idea in the most complex fashion. My youngest son, a senior at Georgia Tech, has the same communication challenge with me. What he can see in his head, I can't see with big print and a magnifying glass.<br /><p style="MARGIN: 1em; WIDTH: 276px; DISPLAY: block; FLOAT: right" class="zemanta-img zemanta-action-dragged"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Facebook.svg"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; DISPLAY: block; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BORDER-RIGHT: medium none" alt="Facebook, Inc." src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/0/06/Facebook.svg/266px-Facebook.svg.png" width="266" height="100" /></a><span class="zemanta-img-attribution">Image via <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Facebook.svg">Wikipedia</a></span></p><br />At lunch, my new friend and I were laughing about the complexity of communication. How industries have created new buzzwords to make the tried and true sound fresh and revolutionary. Marcom materials is a descriptor I often see in job descriptions. Apparently, marketing and communication materials takes too many keystrokes, and someone reduced the phrase to "Marcom". It caught on.<br /><br />My lunch buddy and I agreed that with all the new ways to communicate, most of us still fail to get our message across. Some hide behind voicemail, calling at lunchtime or after hours so we know we won't actually talk to a human being. Some hide behind email, triggering a string of messages that never get the issue resolved. Others, mostly big business, seem to think they won't suffer when they hide behind voicemail. Few ever return calls. We all seem to want the latest iPhone or Android device so we can communicate better, but most just read a message and go back to whatever they were doing. You'll notice Apple never advertises the iPhone as a conversation tool; but rather all the neat things you can do with it. Android talks about different ways of being connected, not about call quality. Having a conversation, apparently, isn't a high priority with a mobile phone.<br /><br />Years ago, someone came up with the notion of "it's a McDonald's world.” Meaning, essentially, we all want an instant payoff. That's why scratch off lottery tickets sell better than the ones you have to wait for a few days to confirm you threw away your $5. We won't wait in line inside a restaurant, but we will wait in line at the drive through. Ironically, it appears we'd rather take 10 minutes to write a text and wait for a reply than to actually speak to someone. So much for instant payoff.<br /><br />Another popular word comes from the tried and true concept of "who you know." Most jobs are found by a contact of someone you know. Today, we call that "networking.” I see people spending hours every day building their "network" on Facebook, Twitter, or LinkedIn. Apparently, if you achieve a certain number of contacts you earn bragging rights. People I've never met ask to be my friend. And honestly, do you really think I'm going to reach out to a third level connection or fellow group member on LinkedIn and ask for an introduction to someone he or she probably doesn't even know? Or that the introduction will actually do some good? I know Kevin Bacon and I have six levels of separation; but I don't think he’ll take my phone call. He might, however, send me to voicemail.<br /><br /><p style="MARGIN: 1em; WIDTH: 230px; DISPLAY: block; FLOAT: right" class="zemanta-img zemanta-action-dragged"><a href="http://www.crunchbase.com/company/twitter"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; DISPLAY: block; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BORDER-RIGHT: medium none" alt="Image representing Twitter as depicted in Crun..." src="http://www.crunchbase.com/assets/images/resized/0000/2755/2755v30-max-450x450.png" width="220" height="61" /></a><span class="zemanta-img-attribution">Image via <a href="http://www.crunchbase.com/">CrunchBase</a></span></p><br />Still, with the way we've managed to isolate ourselves amidst all of our ways to connect with one another, networking is the only way many know how to connect. And that's a scary thought, because I was recently reminded the difference between "not working" and "networking" is one letter.<br /><br />Vanna, I'd like to buy a vowel.<br /><br /><br /><fieldset class="zemanta-related"><legend class="zemanta-related-title">Related articles by Zemanta</legend><br /><br /><br /><ul class="zemanta-article-ul"><br /><br /><br /><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://blog.thoughtpick.com/2010/02/microsoft-takes-on-google-with-social-outlook.html">Microsoft Takes on Google with Social Outlook</a> (thoughtpick.com)</li><br /><br /><br /><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://www.computerworld.com/s/article/9174239/The_iPad_Era_dawns?source=rss_news">The 'iPad Era' dawns</a> (computerworld.com)</li></ul></fieldset><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div style="MARGIN-TOP: 10px; HEIGHT: 15px" class="zemanta-pixie" sizcache="29" sizset="1"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" title="Reblog this post [with Zemanta]" href="http://reblog.zemanta.com/zemified/f5889125-9533-470a-9877-aca4bd6d414d/" sizcache="29" sizset="1"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; FLOAT: right; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BORDER-RIGHT: medium none" class="zemanta-pixie-img" alt="Reblog this post [with Zemanta]" src="http://img.zemanta.com/reblog_e.png?x-id=f5889125-9533-470a-9877-aca4bd6d414d" /></a><span class="zem-script more-related more-info pretty-attribution"><br /><br /><br /><script type="text/javascript" src="http://static.zemanta.com/readside/loader.js"></script><br /><br /><br /></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13209133535341007413noreply@blogger.com0