For the past decade I’ve been watching a trend. As a result of my observations, I’ve begun to call this time in America, “The Age of Women.”
In general, the women I see in the workplace and community are better educated and more relevant than the men of their age and background. They are focused on doing good things. They tend to have more gravitas and be harder working than their male peers.
And while there are still plenty of men who resent and mistreat women, and would deny them a chance to prove themselves, it is a time of unprecedented opportunity for women.
If you ask me it is not only well overdue but also just in time.
My daughters and granddaughters live in a time when they can do pretty much anything they want to do with their lives. They can be, as I told my daughters from the crib, the president of just about anything.
For the record: It’s not that I love Lee or Tino any less than I love Lyssha, Nicole, Natalie and Aria, Analiese, Ali, Ame, Viktoria, Rikelle or Angel. (Or Olivia – who will be here soon!) I’ve just always wanted them to have the same prospects for life, liberty and happiness as anyone else.
I’ve used the phrase, “The Age of Women” many times in the past month or so, and the reactions to my phrase have been fascinating. Women tend to agree, but some point out the barriers still to be overcome.
A sense of reality is important, but ladies, an understanding of how many barriers have been broken down already should give you the confidence to remove the roadblocks remaining.
The responses of men seem to be related to their age, education and maturity. Believe it or not, fairly well-educated, middle-aged men are mostly in agreement and very positive.
The peers of the well-educated thirty-something women, however, express skepticism and find excuses. “There are more scholarships for women,” they whine, “more programs, more help, etc.” Non-minority men, according to one, are the only people who have to raise themselves by their bootstraps.
Sorry boys, I’m just not buying it.
As long as there has been an America, men have always had more opportunity – and still do in many places! The women I see just out prepare and out work them. In the past, their preparation, work and skill has meant little.
Finally, there seems to be a sense of justice.
So boys, stop the complaining and go work as hard as your mothers, sisters, aunts and daughters are doing, and get something worthwhile done.
And ladies, you go out there and take hold of every opportunity you want. Continue to knock down every obstacle. Persist in doing what your critics have said you could not do.
I’m hoping that your increased influence and contribution will make this world we live in just a little bit better than it has been.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Friday, July 31, 2009
My conundrum for the ages
I haven’t had a lot to say of late. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and there haven’t been a lot of fully-formed views breaking through the clouds just yet. So I have kept my pondering to myself.
Perhaps the blogosphere would be better off if I continued to keep my thinking to myself, full-formed or otherwise, but I figure you can tune out anytime you want and write here only what I feel driven to record.
It is with that in mind that I share today the impetus for my introspection. If it is in some way helpful to any of you, then know I am delighted to be of help. If not, by all means, feel free to change the channel.
2008 was a tough year, what with the weddings of two beautiful daughters, the global economy, my precious son’s struggles, losing about half my net worth, offending my eldest daughter, business re-organizations, and so, so much uncertainty.
But it was nothing in comparison to 2009!
I find myself right in the midst of what you may immediately dismiss as a mid-life crisis. Well, dismiss it as you may – if you are younger, you have it yet to face. And if you have already faced it, just keep that smug smile of knowing off your face while you read.
Let me set the stage.
I’m 52. I have served my country, my God, my church, and my community. I’ve raised my children, and they are who they are, I’m proud of them and love it when we spend time together (and miss them when we don't.)
I’ve worked for four Fortune 50 companies in a variety of positions high and low. I've also been in a few smaller firms. I’ve been blue-collar and white-collar. I’ve spent time as a leader, The leader, a manager, an analyst, paralegal, a salesman, a consultant, even a gas pump jockey, a carpenter and a forklift driver. I’m even an expert at a couple of things (mostly obscure and unimpressive.)
Come to think of it, there aren't many titles I haven’t held in one company or another (CIO comes to mind, along with CFO – titles I am not only unqualified for, but – really, never wanted to wear.) I’ve been on the boards of three companies, and five non-profits. I've lived in 34 addresses and "owned" the mortgages on three (each a bit better than the last.)
In financial terms I am not what you’d call wealthy, but I’m still well spoiled (even at half my 2007 worth!)
And yet there persists a sense that I haven’t done anything! I think it is because, despite leaving some of my DNA around in four clever and good looking children and eight gorgeous grandchildren, I haven’t BUILT anything enduring.
Nothing but those pieces of my DNA will last beyond the day my remains are dropped into a grave (or more likely, burned to ash and scattered in the surf at one of the Hawaiian Islands… and if so, please, make it Kona!)
The biologists out there are right now attributing that to the drive we all have to be immortal and to leave something of ourselves in the world. Well, I have given that lots of consideration and find that simple explanation is terribly incomplete.
True, I may yearn to write a Homeric tale for the ages, or leave a building on the campus of the University of Maryland with my family name etched in granite. But honestly, none of that lasts all that much longer than my remains. Much as we may all be endowed with some of the motive of Achilles, desiring to be remembered through all the ages, my unrest is more than simply hoping I’ll be remembered.
I’d rather build something lasting and be forgotten than do something famous but inconsequential and be a household name for a millennium or two.
I’d love to build a small but worthwhile endeavor that I could hand off to one of more of my children or grandchildren with a similar vision and watch from the Eternities as they make it something a little bigger and better and pass it on to one of theirs.
That is what has occupied my mind of late. I don’t seek to save the world, stop world hunger, cure cancer, or conquer the world and be the next Caesar. (I would, however, like to help with some of those things.)
I just want to build and leave something that can be built upon by some of mine.
Now if I can just find THAT thing, I’ll be just fine. But I have to hurry, because I realistically have anywhere from one more day to thirty-five or so more years to get something done!
Perhaps the blogosphere would be better off if I continued to keep my thinking to myself, full-formed or otherwise, but I figure you can tune out anytime you want and write here only what I feel driven to record.
It is with that in mind that I share today the impetus for my introspection. If it is in some way helpful to any of you, then know I am delighted to be of help. If not, by all means, feel free to change the channel.
2008 was a tough year, what with the weddings of two beautiful daughters, the global economy, my precious son’s struggles, losing about half my net worth, offending my eldest daughter, business re-organizations, and so, so much uncertainty.
But it was nothing in comparison to 2009!
I find myself right in the midst of what you may immediately dismiss as a mid-life crisis. Well, dismiss it as you may – if you are younger, you have it yet to face. And if you have already faced it, just keep that smug smile of knowing off your face while you read.
Let me set the stage.
I’m 52. I have served my country, my God, my church, and my community. I’ve raised my children, and they are who they are, I’m proud of them and love it when we spend time together (and miss them when we don't.)
I’ve worked for four Fortune 50 companies in a variety of positions high and low. I've also been in a few smaller firms. I’ve been blue-collar and white-collar. I’ve spent time as a leader, The leader, a manager, an analyst, paralegal, a salesman, a consultant, even a gas pump jockey, a carpenter and a forklift driver. I’m even an expert at a couple of things (mostly obscure and unimpressive.)
Come to think of it, there aren't many titles I haven’t held in one company or another (CIO comes to mind, along with CFO – titles I am not only unqualified for, but – really, never wanted to wear.) I’ve been on the boards of three companies, and five non-profits. I've lived in 34 addresses and "owned" the mortgages on three (each a bit better than the last.)
In financial terms I am not what you’d call wealthy, but I’m still well spoiled (even at half my 2007 worth!)
And yet there persists a sense that I haven’t done anything! I think it is because, despite leaving some of my DNA around in four clever and good looking children and eight gorgeous grandchildren, I haven’t BUILT anything enduring.
Nothing but those pieces of my DNA will last beyond the day my remains are dropped into a grave (or more likely, burned to ash and scattered in the surf at one of the Hawaiian Islands… and if so, please, make it Kona!)
The biologists out there are right now attributing that to the drive we all have to be immortal and to leave something of ourselves in the world. Well, I have given that lots of consideration and find that simple explanation is terribly incomplete.
True, I may yearn to write a Homeric tale for the ages, or leave a building on the campus of the University of Maryland with my family name etched in granite. But honestly, none of that lasts all that much longer than my remains. Much as we may all be endowed with some of the motive of Achilles, desiring to be remembered through all the ages, my unrest is more than simply hoping I’ll be remembered.
I’d rather build something lasting and be forgotten than do something famous but inconsequential and be a household name for a millennium or two.
I’d love to build a small but worthwhile endeavor that I could hand off to one of more of my children or grandchildren with a similar vision and watch from the Eternities as they make it something a little bigger and better and pass it on to one of theirs.
That is what has occupied my mind of late. I don’t seek to save the world, stop world hunger, cure cancer, or conquer the world and be the next Caesar. (I would, however, like to help with some of those things.)
I just want to build and leave something that can be built upon by some of mine.
Now if I can just find THAT thing, I’ll be just fine. But I have to hurry, because I realistically have anywhere from one more day to thirty-five or so more years to get something done!
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Give Me Hector
Give me Trojan Hector over the Argive Achilles
any day, I muse, unconsciously out loud.
She chuckles and responds, You are a strange man
preferring one work of fiction above another.
Oh my daughter, on the momentous day brave Hector
met mighty Achilles on the Plains of Troy,
these ancient mortal gods stood not merely as warriors,
but as the foundation of our modern world.
Still strange, quite peculiar! she announces with finality.
But why not Achilles, the famed and mighty victor?
Hector, the obvious lesser of the two in single combat
was felled by mighty Achilles and then debased.
Mystically protected from death by his immortal Mother,
from all but the missile launched ingloriously
by a cowardly, fortunate and unwitting foe, I argue.
Twice armored Achilles was simply better shielded.
As they traded powerful blows, Hector held fast despite
divining his death and dividing his strength.
Bringing supreme might to bear against the rising fear,
he conquered self, though before Achilles he fell.
Mighty Achilles, arrogant, narcissistic son of gods,
arrayed in a near perfect Olympian shield to
remedy any breach of helmet, breastplate or greaves,
faced Hector, and he clad only in his Ilium bronze.
Blind to the bolt that pierced his well-known tendon,
Achilles never bred any courage of mortal fear.
So superior on the field of battle, still Achilles lacked
the virtue of the vanquished Ilium commander.
Keep the beauty of Achilles, the armor fashioned by gods
from favor and the ambition for everlasting legend.
Give me the valiant essence of Hector for any endeavor
requiring a soul most daring, dutiful, and true.
any day, I muse, unconsciously out loud.
She chuckles and responds, You are a strange man
preferring one work of fiction above another.
Oh my daughter, on the momentous day brave Hector
met mighty Achilles on the Plains of Troy,
these ancient mortal gods stood not merely as warriors,
but as the foundation of our modern world.
Still strange, quite peculiar! she announces with finality.
But why not Achilles, the famed and mighty victor?
Hector, the obvious lesser of the two in single combat
was felled by mighty Achilles and then debased.
Mystically protected from death by his immortal Mother,
from all but the missile launched ingloriously
by a cowardly, fortunate and unwitting foe, I argue.
Twice armored Achilles was simply better shielded.
As they traded powerful blows, Hector held fast despite
divining his death and dividing his strength.
Bringing supreme might to bear against the rising fear,
he conquered self, though before Achilles he fell.
Mighty Achilles, arrogant, narcissistic son of gods,
arrayed in a near perfect Olympian shield to
remedy any breach of helmet, breastplate or greaves,
faced Hector, and he clad only in his Ilium bronze.
Blind to the bolt that pierced his well-known tendon,
Achilles never bred any courage of mortal fear.
So superior on the field of battle, still Achilles lacked
the virtue of the vanquished Ilium commander.
Keep the beauty of Achilles, the armor fashioned by gods
from favor and the ambition for everlasting legend.
Give me the valiant essence of Hector for any endeavor
requiring a soul most daring, dutiful, and true.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Mickey
One of the best things I ever did was join Wasatch Lodge No. 1 in Salt Lake City, Utah. As a Mason, I’ve had the opportunity to rub shoulders with some of the best men in the state. One of those men is the current “President” of our Lodge - that is, the senior officer, called the Worshipful Master (it’s old English - it means something more like “Honorable Master” of the Lodge.)
On Tuesday, we initiated three candidates at the Salt Lake Masonic Temple. During one of the breaks in the Initiation Ceremony, I visited with our Worshipful Master. While we spoke, I noticed and admiring his beautiful (and very expensive) Mickey Mouse Watch. I’m such a sucker for a well-built watch, a fine pen or a leather bound book. And I am a huge fan of Mickey.
Mickey is a symbol of one of the most innovative men who ever walked this earth. It is a symbol of the kind of experience every customer ought to have every time. Mickey also reminds me of one of my favorite vacation destinations.
Our Master, Leon, is a well-respected local attorney, having argued several cases before the Utah Supreme Court. While I admired his “everyday” Mickey Watch, and proudly showed him my Limited Edition Citizen Eco-drive, he told me he had an Eco-drive with a Gold Mickey in the Twelve position.
Leon then told me that years ago, he’d represented the prestigious president of a large local corporation before the Utah Tax Commission. In his office and just before the hearing, the president handed Leon a very nice, conservative watch and told him to change his watch because his Mickey Mouse watch looked, well, Mickey Mouse.
Now Leon is a bit of a maverick. He knows who he is and he just doesn’t compromise. It is one of the many endearing qualities that most people like about him. He is authentic. You get it straight from him, but he is also exceptionally kind, so tough things are delivered straight and compassionately.
An angry Leon told the Overblown Ego that he had two choices, head over to the hearing with his pretty watch in hand, and represent himself; or they - and Mickey - could go on over together. The president pushed him - was this his “lucky piece?” “If you have to think it is my lucky piece,” Leon replies,” then it is.”
So Leon wins big! Later he gets one of those nice “thank you” notes that also included a termination of his services to the corporation. Leon is a good and ethical attorney. He shared the story but not no more detail than I just did. I don’t know who the man was, the particulars of the case, dates, or the name of the corporation. But the story was instructive.
Any man that would hire an attorney to handle a sensitive and potentially expensive matter based on his expertise and reputation and offend him trying to change his image isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. He was powerful and obviously understands power. And he understands and wields a good bit of influence. But he’s not real bright despite his power, influence, and career success. Why?
Well, if you are worried about the image and potential success of an attorney, you don’t retain him.
If you do hire him, you don’t offend him just before you need him to be at his absolute best for you.
And, if a genuine courtroom brawler beats the opposition “big” then you don’t fire him because he wouldn’t take Mickey off his wrist because you insisted. You keep him around for the next issue.
Lastly, if he couldn’t understand Mickey is a symbol of innovation, excellence, and great experiences, he probably doesn’t understand enough to treat employees well - especially those who deal with his customers. And he isn’t creative enough to solve unusual problems or cases he didn’t study in B-school.
Mickey says something about an attorney, a product manager, film-maker, or customer service representative. That well-dressed, powerful, and influential stuffed shirt didn’t get it. Do you?
On Tuesday, we initiated three candidates at the Salt Lake Masonic Temple. During one of the breaks in the Initiation Ceremony, I visited with our Worshipful Master. While we spoke, I noticed and admiring his beautiful (and very expensive) Mickey Mouse Watch. I’m such a sucker for a well-built watch, a fine pen or a leather bound book. And I am a huge fan of Mickey.
Mickey is a symbol of one of the most innovative men who ever walked this earth. It is a symbol of the kind of experience every customer ought to have every time. Mickey also reminds me of one of my favorite vacation destinations.
Our Master, Leon, is a well-respected local attorney, having argued several cases before the Utah Supreme Court. While I admired his “everyday” Mickey Watch, and proudly showed him my Limited Edition Citizen Eco-drive, he told me he had an Eco-drive with a Gold Mickey in the Twelve position.
Leon then told me that years ago, he’d represented the prestigious president of a large local corporation before the Utah Tax Commission. In his office and just before the hearing, the president handed Leon a very nice, conservative watch and told him to change his watch because his Mickey Mouse watch looked, well, Mickey Mouse.
Now Leon is a bit of a maverick. He knows who he is and he just doesn’t compromise. It is one of the many endearing qualities that most people like about him. He is authentic. You get it straight from him, but he is also exceptionally kind, so tough things are delivered straight and compassionately.
An angry Leon told the Overblown Ego that he had two choices, head over to the hearing with his pretty watch in hand, and represent himself; or they - and Mickey - could go on over together. The president pushed him - was this his “lucky piece?” “If you have to think it is my lucky piece,” Leon replies,” then it is.”
So Leon wins big! Later he gets one of those nice “thank you” notes that also included a termination of his services to the corporation. Leon is a good and ethical attorney. He shared the story but not no more detail than I just did. I don’t know who the man was, the particulars of the case, dates, or the name of the corporation. But the story was instructive.
Any man that would hire an attorney to handle a sensitive and potentially expensive matter based on his expertise and reputation and offend him trying to change his image isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. He was powerful and obviously understands power. And he understands and wields a good bit of influence. But he’s not real bright despite his power, influence, and career success. Why?
Well, if you are worried about the image and potential success of an attorney, you don’t retain him.
If you do hire him, you don’t offend him just before you need him to be at his absolute best for you.
And, if a genuine courtroom brawler beats the opposition “big” then you don’t fire him because he wouldn’t take Mickey off his wrist because you insisted. You keep him around for the next issue.
Lastly, if he couldn’t understand Mickey is a symbol of innovation, excellence, and great experiences, he probably doesn’t understand enough to treat employees well - especially those who deal with his customers. And he isn’t creative enough to solve unusual problems or cases he didn’t study in B-school.
Mickey says something about an attorney, a product manager, film-maker, or customer service representative. That well-dressed, powerful, and influential stuffed shirt didn’t get it. Do you?
Friday, June 12, 2009
Technical Fouls
The three topics guaranteed to build animosity are Religion, Sports and Politics. While I write often about politics, public policy and community affairs, I just won’t write about religion here (though I do so in my own personal notebooks.)
Sports are a different matter. I’m a die-hard USC fan despite not being good enough to earn a scholarship to go there (either for my running or my grades.) I used to support the Rams, until the Devil (her first name was Georgia) took them to St. Louis. And despite a short malaise after Shaq left LA, there just hasn’t been anyone but the Lakers ever since Wilt, Happy Hairston, Jerry West, and Elgin Baylor were stars.
And yes, I AM enjoying the NBA Finals.
But, I am not enjoying them as much as you might think. Why? The Referees, that’s why. As I get older, more experienced, more socially aware, I recognize in them all the traits of petty tyrants.
It is not so much that they don’t call everything on the other team and leave my perfect Lakers alone. It is that they are ruining the game with their inconsistency and unwillingness to reverse even the worst of calls. The League’s efforts to police them are ineffective and impotent.
The quickest way to help them mend their ways is a form of instant replay that becomes an avenue of appeal to their most egregious acts. What I want to say today, however, has nothing to do with Instant Replay.
I’d like to make what will be a largely unheard appeal that the league take away one of the last vestiges of the plantation. Please get rid of those awful and inhuman technical fouls given for arguing a call or for passionate outbursts on the court.
We all agree that the best players bring passion to the game. We also all agree that there are bad calls and there needs to be some way to appeal them.
The inconsistent application of “Tees” for arguing, celebration or taunting always makes it a joke when they are called.
In the Eastern Finals I saw a home team player repeatedly pound his chest after a game changing play without a call, while in another game a visiting team player was “Teed” up for a fist pump over a similar play. Different refs! Different players! Different towns! All wrong.
Some players can argue a foul without a Tee while others simply look disgusted and draw one. And God help you if you are perceived as a “Bad Boy.” You’re getting one every time you open your mouth.
Fans love the passion. And we live with the injustice of silly calls because the game still adds something to our life. But “Teeing” up a player because he had the audacity to question a call you just made is like allowing me to fine everyone – including customers - who disagree with my opinion or decision because I have some authority at work.
We think it is tyranny in a home, business or government, but somehow it is okay in a courtroom or on a basketball court. It is inhuman because it asks players to become robots. And it just reminds us of our basic training sergeant or the plantation overlords who wouldn’t allow any questioning of their authority or expressions of emotion.
And just in case you think that I think or am calling for an allowance of fighting or hurting referees, fans, players or coaches – I AM NOT. But the power to change a game needs to have some checks and balances and in the NBA, there are none.
Power is corrosive. And if it is unchecked, power always turns into tyranny. Just look at any NBA game between any two teams and you will see what I am talking about.
So, Commissioner, let’s get rid of this silly left-over from pre-Civil War times and allow some passion and humanity on the court. Believe me, you'll have a better "product."
Sports are a different matter. I’m a die-hard USC fan despite not being good enough to earn a scholarship to go there (either for my running or my grades.) I used to support the Rams, until the Devil (her first name was Georgia) took them to St. Louis. And despite a short malaise after Shaq left LA, there just hasn’t been anyone but the Lakers ever since Wilt, Happy Hairston, Jerry West, and Elgin Baylor were stars.
And yes, I AM enjoying the NBA Finals.
But, I am not enjoying them as much as you might think. Why? The Referees, that’s why. As I get older, more experienced, more socially aware, I recognize in them all the traits of petty tyrants.
It is not so much that they don’t call everything on the other team and leave my perfect Lakers alone. It is that they are ruining the game with their inconsistency and unwillingness to reverse even the worst of calls. The League’s efforts to police them are ineffective and impotent.
The quickest way to help them mend their ways is a form of instant replay that becomes an avenue of appeal to their most egregious acts. What I want to say today, however, has nothing to do with Instant Replay.
I’d like to make what will be a largely unheard appeal that the league take away one of the last vestiges of the plantation. Please get rid of those awful and inhuman technical fouls given for arguing a call or for passionate outbursts on the court.
We all agree that the best players bring passion to the game. We also all agree that there are bad calls and there needs to be some way to appeal them.
The inconsistent application of “Tees” for arguing, celebration or taunting always makes it a joke when they are called.
In the Eastern Finals I saw a home team player repeatedly pound his chest after a game changing play without a call, while in another game a visiting team player was “Teed” up for a fist pump over a similar play. Different refs! Different players! Different towns! All wrong.
Some players can argue a foul without a Tee while others simply look disgusted and draw one. And God help you if you are perceived as a “Bad Boy.” You’re getting one every time you open your mouth.
Fans love the passion. And we live with the injustice of silly calls because the game still adds something to our life. But “Teeing” up a player because he had the audacity to question a call you just made is like allowing me to fine everyone – including customers - who disagree with my opinion or decision because I have some authority at work.
We think it is tyranny in a home, business or government, but somehow it is okay in a courtroom or on a basketball court. It is inhuman because it asks players to become robots. And it just reminds us of our basic training sergeant or the plantation overlords who wouldn’t allow any questioning of their authority or expressions of emotion.
And just in case you think that I think or am calling for an allowance of fighting or hurting referees, fans, players or coaches – I AM NOT. But the power to change a game needs to have some checks and balances and in the NBA, there are none.
Power is corrosive. And if it is unchecked, power always turns into tyranny. Just look at any NBA game between any two teams and you will see what I am talking about.
So, Commissioner, let’s get rid of this silly left-over from pre-Civil War times and allow some passion and humanity on the court. Believe me, you'll have a better "product."
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
With apologies - more on service
At one of my favorite book sellers, I recently heard an employee on the floor saying, “I’m sorry,” over and over again to the same customer. No action was taken to remedy the wrong. The employee was just very sorry.
Suddenly it hit me, I’ve been in several retail outlets recently and heard that phrase from tellers, cashiers, floor personnel, sales people and managers over and over.
I’ve looked on-line to see if I missed some new tip or trick from an overpaid Customer Service Guru, but it appears that it is happening quite spontaneously.
If you have to apologize multiple times to most or every customer, something is very wrong with your retail operation.
What most retailers call Service is nothing more than common courtesy – being a human being. Service has to do with quality in all its forms, and courtesy is only the tail end of that process.
If you don’t do your job right, or the systems make you hard to do business with, or policies are written to stop the crooks and just anger your honest customers all the courtesy in the world won’t save that customer from a good competitor.
It dates me to tell you, but I remember “Love Story” by Erich Segal (the book and the movie!) I thought it was sappy and stupid to think that “Love means not ever having to say you’re sorry.” Just show me one perfect person or relationship! But it is plain to the mature Lon that this is an ideal, perhaps impossible for a human to attain, but certainly worth the effort.
Maybe it is too much to say that Service Excellence means you never need apologize to your customer, but it ought to at least be harder to say it. “I’m sorry” ought to accompany some action to fix the problem or some extra to ease the sting.
If you need to apologize to a customer, by all means do so, quickly, sincerely, and then make it right or add something extra. But if you have to apologize too often, or to too many customers, something else is wrong and should be fixed, quickly, and permanently.
Otherwise, “I’m sorry” means absolutely nothing.
Suddenly it hit me, I’ve been in several retail outlets recently and heard that phrase from tellers, cashiers, floor personnel, sales people and managers over and over.
I’ve looked on-line to see if I missed some new tip or trick from an overpaid Customer Service Guru, but it appears that it is happening quite spontaneously.
If you have to apologize multiple times to most or every customer, something is very wrong with your retail operation.
What most retailers call Service is nothing more than common courtesy – being a human being. Service has to do with quality in all its forms, and courtesy is only the tail end of that process.
If you don’t do your job right, or the systems make you hard to do business with, or policies are written to stop the crooks and just anger your honest customers all the courtesy in the world won’t save that customer from a good competitor.
It dates me to tell you, but I remember “Love Story” by Erich Segal (the book and the movie!) I thought it was sappy and stupid to think that “Love means not ever having to say you’re sorry.” Just show me one perfect person or relationship! But it is plain to the mature Lon that this is an ideal, perhaps impossible for a human to attain, but certainly worth the effort.
Maybe it is too much to say that Service Excellence means you never need apologize to your customer, but it ought to at least be harder to say it. “I’m sorry” ought to accompany some action to fix the problem or some extra to ease the sting.
If you need to apologize to a customer, by all means do so, quickly, sincerely, and then make it right or add something extra. But if you have to apologize too often, or to too many customers, something else is wrong and should be fixed, quickly, and permanently.
Otherwise, “I’m sorry” means absolutely nothing.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
La Caille and the Secret of Life
La Caille is “contemporary French cuisine in a 17th century chateau on an idyllic 22 acre estate complete with vineyard, fountains, peacocks and swans,” [1] nestled in a beautiful and peaceful setting at the mouth of Little Cottonwood Canyon. It is one of those places you go for very special occasions or celebrations.
During a recent meeting the owner, Steve Runolfson described himself as a “gentleman farmer who works at night in the kitchen.” I can assure you he is much more. For starters, he is one of the few people who understand how to consistently deliver “Old World Service.”
The purpose of the meeting with Steve was planning for the upcoming Celebration of Learning with the five of us who compose the Finance Committee of the Scottish Rite Learning Centers. Steve taught us how to make this gala event a huge success.
During the meeting, we were very surprised at just how willing Steve was to add extra value to every part of the planning and execution - every touch-point- and not just the event. He was offering so much more than just a beautiful environment, great food and drink. He showed over and over that he is a generous and community-minded man.
Close to the end of the meeting, Bob Shupe, probably the most generous man I know expressed to Steve our surprise and gratitude. It was here that Steve shared with us a very memorable thought. While he held up his right hand, holding his thumb and forefinger roughly an inch apart, Steve told us, “I’ve learned the secret of life. It is to give just this much more than you take.”
I later shared this thought with my son, and he replied, “Karma.” I corrected him. That is not Karma. In popular usage, Karma has come to mean what you give comes back to you, or “what comes around goes around.” Karma is really “the effects of a person's actions that determine his destiny in his next incarnation.” [2]
Steve was not talking about Karma. He was not talking about future incarnations of life. Steve was talking about this life and specifically, he was talking about the secret of a happy and fulfilled life.
This reminded me of a similar thought expressed by Emanuel Swedenborg, the 17th Century Swedish Christian Mystic. Swedenborg taught, “Real joy, which comes from loving to do good things without wanting to be repaid, is the reward that lasts forever.”
Steve’s thinking is very different from the usual negotiation where the parties vie for supremacy, trying to wring every ounce of value for the minimum return, and leave nothing on the table for the other party. It is the complete antithesis of Gordon Gekko’s “Greed is Good,” mantra.
Steve’s a man who has been wildly successful at his business for more than four decades, and he puts a lot more value than he has to on the table! I believe this philosophy has brought Steve his long-term success. And I suspect he has more than his share of joy.
[1] LaCaille.com
[2] Wordnet, Princeton.edu
During a recent meeting the owner, Steve Runolfson described himself as a “gentleman farmer who works at night in the kitchen.” I can assure you he is much more. For starters, he is one of the few people who understand how to consistently deliver “Old World Service.”
The purpose of the meeting with Steve was planning for the upcoming Celebration of Learning with the five of us who compose the Finance Committee of the Scottish Rite Learning Centers. Steve taught us how to make this gala event a huge success.
During the meeting, we were very surprised at just how willing Steve was to add extra value to every part of the planning and execution - every touch-point- and not just the event. He was offering so much more than just a beautiful environment, great food and drink. He showed over and over that he is a generous and community-minded man.
Close to the end of the meeting, Bob Shupe, probably the most generous man I know expressed to Steve our surprise and gratitude. It was here that Steve shared with us a very memorable thought. While he held up his right hand, holding his thumb and forefinger roughly an inch apart, Steve told us, “I’ve learned the secret of life. It is to give just this much more than you take.”
I later shared this thought with my son, and he replied, “Karma.” I corrected him. That is not Karma. In popular usage, Karma has come to mean what you give comes back to you, or “what comes around goes around.” Karma is really “the effects of a person's actions that determine his destiny in his next incarnation.” [2]
Steve was not talking about Karma. He was not talking about future incarnations of life. Steve was talking about this life and specifically, he was talking about the secret of a happy and fulfilled life.
This reminded me of a similar thought expressed by Emanuel Swedenborg, the 17th Century Swedish Christian Mystic. Swedenborg taught, “Real joy, which comes from loving to do good things without wanting to be repaid, is the reward that lasts forever.”
Steve’s thinking is very different from the usual negotiation where the parties vie for supremacy, trying to wring every ounce of value for the minimum return, and leave nothing on the table for the other party. It is the complete antithesis of Gordon Gekko’s “Greed is Good,” mantra.
Steve’s a man who has been wildly successful at his business for more than four decades, and he puts a lot more value than he has to on the table! I believe this philosophy has brought Steve his long-term success. And I suspect he has more than his share of joy.
[1] LaCaille.com
[2] Wordnet, Princeton.edu
Friday, June 5, 2009
"It's the Experience, Idiot!"
In March, the brilliant and talented CEO of Granite Federal Union appeared before the Board of Directors and asked us to find a new CEO. In February, it was discovered that the “cold” he’d had since last summer was in reality an aggressive form of cancer in stage four. His doctors told him he had roughly nine painful months of life left.
While he dealt with first radiation and then chemotherapy, we began a rather longish search for a replacement. Tuesday, we came to the end of our search. But this blog post is not a tribute to the outgoing CEO or crowing about what a good find we have with the incoming CEO.
This post is about something that was reinforced (or re-discovered) while we looked for a new CEO. That something is the myth of the credit union “service advantage.”
We (you and me) hear it all the time. Credit Unions are better than banks not because the customer is a member of a Co-Op, or because the fees are much lower, but because they are community-based, and the service is “down-home” and makes you feel special.
Banks are big, bad, and treat you like an idiot.
Unfortunately, none of that is particularly true anymore. And even more unfortunately, because it is generally believed, no one pays any attention to it.
That lack of focus is the problem.
I remember well my first brush with Credit Unions. I was 16. I was finally making enough money from my paper route and mowing lawns that I needed a place to save it. Growing up, I almost always lived on an Air Force base, and since Dad was assigned to a Fighter Wing, and fighters tend to be very noisy jets, we always lived away from “civilization.”
That meant that the only stores, banks, theaters, sports and recreation close were on base and quite limited. There were two viable banking choices for me: Bank of America and Keesler Federal Credit Union.
My Mom took me into Bank of America. There we sat for waaaaay to long while the new accounts lady and one of the managers dealt with a “pain-in-the-ass” Lt. Colonel (never met one that wasn’t!) Finally, my Mom decided we’d waited long enough, and we went next door to Keesler.
The folks at Keesler didn’t really note my longish hair; my lack of an officer’s uniform and rank, or even that I was with my Mother. They just took care of me as if I were actually important to them.
I’d like to say that I never went back to a bank because the credit union experience was so good, but that isn’t true. After moving to Utah, there was no Keesler FCU. There was, however, a bank that appeared to be “The Bank” for Mormons – after all, the Statue of Brigham Young in downtown Salt Lake had his left hand out as if to say, “This is the Place.” I fell for that and opened an account there. After less than a year of poor experiences, I left for another and more, poor experiences.
Eventually, I found Granite CU. And it was such a difference from my banking experiences. They didn’t yet have checks – they were called Share Drafts in those days, but they did it all quite well for me. I’ve been a fan of the CU Movement since then too, having learned my lesson.
But over the years, Credit Unions have really become banks. They are getting bigger and they’ve lost track of what made them great. But it is not just “big” that has caused that loss of focus. Our lost direction has come because we have heard the hype for so long, decided it must be true, and we no longer think we need to do anything to support the propaganda.
There is so much more to good service than being able to greet 20 customers by name. In fact, if you think good service is in the teller line, at the new accounts desk, or in the manager’s office, you haven’t a clue. What happens there is simply common courtesy.
Good or Great Service is about the Total Experience. It is about Quality. Total Quality. Courtesy is simply the tip of the iceberg. It is the continuation of the total quality of the organization. Or not.
If the “back-office” people, processes and systems that support the transactions and services aren’t of a pretty high quality, then smiling, calling me by name, and asking about my kids won’t help. In fact, if those people, systems and process produce poor quality, it is going to be next to impossible to keep that genuine smile on the teller’s face for very long!
Credit Union management, volunteers and employees need to get out a bit, shop the competition, set up an account somewhere else, and compare the total experience. The gaps will be apparent. Only then, can we come together to bring that mythic service back to the CU experience.
If not … well, we’re just smaller, “down-home-friendly," Bad Banks!
While he dealt with first radiation and then chemotherapy, we began a rather longish search for a replacement. Tuesday, we came to the end of our search. But this blog post is not a tribute to the outgoing CEO or crowing about what a good find we have with the incoming CEO.
This post is about something that was reinforced (or re-discovered) while we looked for a new CEO. That something is the myth of the credit union “service advantage.”
We (you and me) hear it all the time. Credit Unions are better than banks not because the customer is a member of a Co-Op, or because the fees are much lower, but because they are community-based, and the service is “down-home” and makes you feel special.
Banks are big, bad, and treat you like an idiot.
Unfortunately, none of that is particularly true anymore. And even more unfortunately, because it is generally believed, no one pays any attention to it.
That lack of focus is the problem.
I remember well my first brush with Credit Unions. I was 16. I was finally making enough money from my paper route and mowing lawns that I needed a place to save it. Growing up, I almost always lived on an Air Force base, and since Dad was assigned to a Fighter Wing, and fighters tend to be very noisy jets, we always lived away from “civilization.”
That meant that the only stores, banks, theaters, sports and recreation close were on base and quite limited. There were two viable banking choices for me: Bank of America and Keesler Federal Credit Union.
My Mom took me into Bank of America. There we sat for waaaaay to long while the new accounts lady and one of the managers dealt with a “pain-in-the-ass” Lt. Colonel (never met one that wasn’t!) Finally, my Mom decided we’d waited long enough, and we went next door to Keesler.
The folks at Keesler didn’t really note my longish hair; my lack of an officer’s uniform and rank, or even that I was with my Mother. They just took care of me as if I were actually important to them.
I’d like to say that I never went back to a bank because the credit union experience was so good, but that isn’t true. After moving to Utah, there was no Keesler FCU. There was, however, a bank that appeared to be “The Bank” for Mormons – after all, the Statue of Brigham Young in downtown Salt Lake had his left hand out as if to say, “This is the Place.” I fell for that and opened an account there. After less than a year of poor experiences, I left for another and more, poor experiences.
Eventually, I found Granite CU. And it was such a difference from my banking experiences. They didn’t yet have checks – they were called Share Drafts in those days, but they did it all quite well for me. I’ve been a fan of the CU Movement since then too, having learned my lesson.
But over the years, Credit Unions have really become banks. They are getting bigger and they’ve lost track of what made them great. But it is not just “big” that has caused that loss of focus. Our lost direction has come because we have heard the hype for so long, decided it must be true, and we no longer think we need to do anything to support the propaganda.
There is so much more to good service than being able to greet 20 customers by name. In fact, if you think good service is in the teller line, at the new accounts desk, or in the manager’s office, you haven’t a clue. What happens there is simply common courtesy.
Good or Great Service is about the Total Experience. It is about Quality. Total Quality. Courtesy is simply the tip of the iceberg. It is the continuation of the total quality of the organization. Or not.
If the “back-office” people, processes and systems that support the transactions and services aren’t of a pretty high quality, then smiling, calling me by name, and asking about my kids won’t help. In fact, if those people, systems and process produce poor quality, it is going to be next to impossible to keep that genuine smile on the teller’s face for very long!
Credit Union management, volunteers and employees need to get out a bit, shop the competition, set up an account somewhere else, and compare the total experience. The gaps will be apparent. Only then, can we come together to bring that mythic service back to the CU experience.
If not … well, we’re just smaller, “down-home-friendly," Bad Banks!
Better is Good Enough!
My friend and colleague, Christa, is a tireless contributor and a creative product manager. Like me, everyday she faces dozens who tell her why "it" cannot be done. Like me, she also gets the impossible done every day.
The "Resistance to the Different and New" can drag all of us down from time to time. I'm no exception, and neither is Christa or any of my other colleagues in Product Development and Management.
Since we are often quite alone and completely outnumbered in our fight against product "me too-ism," poor customer experience and process mediocrity, all of us work to keep the spirits of our fellow "Product Transformation Artists" up. The other day, it just happened to be my turn to assist. Christa (who is also a prolific and talented writer!) posted one of my comments from our email exchange on her blog along with her own insightful thoughts about incremental improvement.
Her blog post is worth reading (and not just because I am quoted.) Frankly, I read what she has to say quite often, and you ought to too.
A link to her blog post is right here: http://tinyurl.com/o6ogac
The "Resistance to the Different and New" can drag all of us down from time to time. I'm no exception, and neither is Christa or any of my other colleagues in Product Development and Management.
Since we are often quite alone and completely outnumbered in our fight against product "me too-ism," poor customer experience and process mediocrity, all of us work to keep the spirits of our fellow "Product Transformation Artists" up. The other day, it just happened to be my turn to assist. Christa (who is also a prolific and talented writer!) posted one of my comments from our email exchange on her blog along with her own insightful thoughts about incremental improvement.
Her blog post is worth reading (and not just because I am quoted.) Frankly, I read what she has to say quite often, and you ought to too.
A link to her blog post is right here: http://tinyurl.com/o6ogac
Friday, May 29, 2009
Tricks and Gimmicks
One of the first things I do when I walk in the house is check the Caller ID and then listen to any phone messages. There are always two or three out-of-state numbers on the Caller ID. They are most always solicitation calls and an unwelcome sight, because I’ve registered and re-registered with The National Do-Not Call Registry.
Of late, most of these are “Debt Assistance” calls. It seems that the economic crisis has multipled the number of people in this growing and (I assume) lucrative field. Perhaps the majority of these calls come from businesses too new or too small to be aware of the ramifications of calls to registered homes.
When they leave a message, most of them are people and not automated messaging (another indicator this is a new business model.) They all have a hook. The other night, the polite, attractive, female voice said she was calling back because “we have spoken before.” Now, I checked, and we most certainly have not.
On the same evening I took a check-style letter (i.e. perforated on three sides) out of the mailbox. It had all kinds of official-looking warnings about the Federal Codes I would be violating if I tampered with the envelope. I predicted, correctly, that it was an extended warranty offer and not a check. All that other stuff was “marketing” to get me to at least open it before I tore it in small pieces and deposited it in the recycle bin.
What both of these tactics have in common is that they are tricks or gimmicks to get your attention.
I appreciate good advertising (so tell me, why are beer commercials always the best?), openly and sarcastically mock bad ads (and yes, Burger King does need to fire their agency!), and admire clever marketing tactics and a well-turned phrase.
But no one likes to be tricked.
So even if these folks had great offers I couldn’t tell you because I won’t do business if the person selling me feels "slimy.” And when they use a trick to get my attention they just come off like that weasel that slams the basketball off your shins while going out of bounds. It’s legal (even if it is true that it is assault anywhere except a basketball court) but it is just a trick and not a skill.
I never mind being beat by a better basketball player, having my attention turned by a clever merchandising piece, or seeing my objections overcome by a skillful and persuasive sales person. I do mind when I lose a game on a gimmick, or waste my time with a marketing trick.
And so do you.
If you have a proposition with true value, don’t hide it under a gimmick unless you just want idiots to buy from you. And if that is okay with you, then don’t contact me. I don’t want to be included in that demographic.
And neither do you.
Of late, most of these are “Debt Assistance” calls. It seems that the economic crisis has multipled the number of people in this growing and (I assume) lucrative field. Perhaps the majority of these calls come from businesses too new or too small to be aware of the ramifications of calls to registered homes.
When they leave a message, most of them are people and not automated messaging (another indicator this is a new business model.) They all have a hook. The other night, the polite, attractive, female voice said she was calling back because “we have spoken before.” Now, I checked, and we most certainly have not.
On the same evening I took a check-style letter (i.e. perforated on three sides) out of the mailbox. It had all kinds of official-looking warnings about the Federal Codes I would be violating if I tampered with the envelope. I predicted, correctly, that it was an extended warranty offer and not a check. All that other stuff was “marketing” to get me to at least open it before I tore it in small pieces and deposited it in the recycle bin.
What both of these tactics have in common is that they are tricks or gimmicks to get your attention.
I appreciate good advertising (so tell me, why are beer commercials always the best?), openly and sarcastically mock bad ads (and yes, Burger King does need to fire their agency!), and admire clever marketing tactics and a well-turned phrase.
But no one likes to be tricked.
So even if these folks had great offers I couldn’t tell you because I won’t do business if the person selling me feels "slimy.” And when they use a trick to get my attention they just come off like that weasel that slams the basketball off your shins while going out of bounds. It’s legal (even if it is true that it is assault anywhere except a basketball court) but it is just a trick and not a skill.
I never mind being beat by a better basketball player, having my attention turned by a clever merchandising piece, or seeing my objections overcome by a skillful and persuasive sales person. I do mind when I lose a game on a gimmick, or waste my time with a marketing trick.
And so do you.
If you have a proposition with true value, don’t hide it under a gimmick unless you just want idiots to buy from you. And if that is okay with you, then don’t contact me. I don’t want to be included in that demographic.
And neither do you.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
May Our Remembrance Become Our Renewal – Part 5
Remarks made at the annual Celebration of Remembrance & Renewal of the Ancient & Accepted Scottish Rite of Utah, James Lowe Chapter Rose Croix in the Valley of Salt Lake on Thursday, April 23, 2009.
There are four practices that will allow us to turn remembrance into renewal more often. Fourth: The beneficiaries of any rebirth must be the living, especially those living most closely around us.
In early February, I was working about the house on Saturday when I received a call from the CEO of Granite Credit Union.
This is a man of superior ability and great integrity. There is no one I’d rather have at the helm of our Credit Union during this economic downturn. Unfortunately, he called to let me know that the “cold” he’d had since last summer had been diagnosed as cancer.
Since that time, I have watched his health deteriorate quite rapidly. I have also watched as he has resigned from every non-profit board, even his beloved Boy Scouts, and put aside all other hobbies and interests while he spends each precious moment with those he loves most.
The best of his time left here is reserved for his wife, children and grandchildren. This is as it ought to be, for these are the people he has and will have had the greatest impact upon.
When all else is stripped away, it is the people who surround us that make the most difference to us. And we ought to strive to make the most difference in their lives.
If those closest to us cannot see the effects of a rebirth, I would contend there is no change!
We gather today to remember the virtuous lives of good men, gone from among us, that we might emulate them.
We strive to live so that our own memory may likewise be cherished, and more importantly that we can better serve the living.
It is my hope that we may each turn this Celebration of Remembrance into a Personal Renewal. I close, then, with this injunction attributed to wise King Solomon: “May the memory of the dead friend cement more firmly the amity of the living!”[1]
There are four practices that will allow us to turn remembrance into renewal more often. Fourth: The beneficiaries of any rebirth must be the living, especially those living most closely around us.
In early February, I was working about the house on Saturday when I received a call from the CEO of Granite Credit Union.
This is a man of superior ability and great integrity. There is no one I’d rather have at the helm of our Credit Union during this economic downturn. Unfortunately, he called to let me know that the “cold” he’d had since last summer had been diagnosed as cancer.
Since that time, I have watched his health deteriorate quite rapidly. I have also watched as he has resigned from every non-profit board, even his beloved Boy Scouts, and put aside all other hobbies and interests while he spends each precious moment with those he loves most.
The best of his time left here is reserved for his wife, children and grandchildren. This is as it ought to be, for these are the people he has and will have had the greatest impact upon.
When all else is stripped away, it is the people who surround us that make the most difference to us. And we ought to strive to make the most difference in their lives.
If those closest to us cannot see the effects of a rebirth, I would contend there is no change!
We gather today to remember the virtuous lives of good men, gone from among us, that we might emulate them.
We strive to live so that our own memory may likewise be cherished, and more importantly that we can better serve the living.
It is my hope that we may each turn this Celebration of Remembrance into a Personal Renewal. I close, then, with this injunction attributed to wise King Solomon: “May the memory of the dead friend cement more firmly the amity of the living!”[1]
May Our Remembrance Become Our Renewal – Part 4
Remarks made at the annual Celebration of Remembrance & Renewal of the Ancient & Accepted Scottish Rite of Utah, James Lowe Chapter Rose Croix in the Valley of Salt Lake on Thursday, April 23, 2009.
There are four practices that will allow us to turn remembrance into renewal more often. Third: In every life there is some virtue, that is: something wise, strong, or beautiful; and we have to find it, and let it inspire us.
It is easy to learn from the lives of the great or famous, but there is something notable in every life. We often miss remarkable lessons in the life of lowly, or those with whom we have differences.
As Robertson Davies has wisely noted, “Few people can see genius in someone who has offended them.”
We can even learn from people who lived long ago and we do not know.
Few people I know love to spend time wandering in Cemeteries as much as I do. I’m not drawn by any maudlin or morbid motive. I go to ponder and draw strength.
You can’t always learn a lot from a headstone – just a few particulars - but you can often learn a great deal from a series of headstones or memorials.
On one trip into Central Utah, I opened a flimsy wooden gate and entered a dilapidated cemetery that is the only hint that the town of Manassah even existed. The water-table is too high to support much other than wetlands, and the untended graves were sinking out of sight nearly 20-years ago when I visited.
There among the pioneer graves was a row that included the final resting places of a Scandinavian immigrant and his wife, marked only by small, humble rock headstones roughly 8x10 inches.
Next to this woman, one after another, were the graves of eight children born to the couple. Each had died shortly after birth!
I paused and ached as I felt the pain and suffering that both parents must have experienced after each birth, short life and early death. But had this been all, it would not have inspired me as it did.
In other parts of this neglected Cemetery, I easily recognized four other children of this afflicted couple. Three had married and had children of their own. One more had died as a young man fighting in the Utah Indian War.
Their strength and perseverance inspired me to weather my own personal trial, to be more stoic in the face of my own buffetings. I resolved right there not to suffer so pathetically and to exercise greater strength and persistence.
When we look at the lives of others, it is the good that inspires us. The sun rises again each morning, heralding a new day of promise and opportunity, but few find new growth in the bright sunshine unless they feel the warmth of enlightenment.
There are four practices that will allow us to turn remembrance into renewal more often. Tomorrow, the Fourth of these practices: The beneficiaries of any rebirth must be the living, especially those living most closely around us.
There are four practices that will allow us to turn remembrance into renewal more often. Third: In every life there is some virtue, that is: something wise, strong, or beautiful; and we have to find it, and let it inspire us.
It is easy to learn from the lives of the great or famous, but there is something notable in every life. We often miss remarkable lessons in the life of lowly, or those with whom we have differences.
As Robertson Davies has wisely noted, “Few people can see genius in someone who has offended them.”
We can even learn from people who lived long ago and we do not know.
Few people I know love to spend time wandering in Cemeteries as much as I do. I’m not drawn by any maudlin or morbid motive. I go to ponder and draw strength.
You can’t always learn a lot from a headstone – just a few particulars - but you can often learn a great deal from a series of headstones or memorials.
On one trip into Central Utah, I opened a flimsy wooden gate and entered a dilapidated cemetery that is the only hint that the town of Manassah even existed. The water-table is too high to support much other than wetlands, and the untended graves were sinking out of sight nearly 20-years ago when I visited.
There among the pioneer graves was a row that included the final resting places of a Scandinavian immigrant and his wife, marked only by small, humble rock headstones roughly 8x10 inches.
Next to this woman, one after another, were the graves of eight children born to the couple. Each had died shortly after birth!
I paused and ached as I felt the pain and suffering that both parents must have experienced after each birth, short life and early death. But had this been all, it would not have inspired me as it did.
In other parts of this neglected Cemetery, I easily recognized four other children of this afflicted couple. Three had married and had children of their own. One more had died as a young man fighting in the Utah Indian War.
Their strength and perseverance inspired me to weather my own personal trial, to be more stoic in the face of my own buffetings. I resolved right there not to suffer so pathetically and to exercise greater strength and persistence.
When we look at the lives of others, it is the good that inspires us. The sun rises again each morning, heralding a new day of promise and opportunity, but few find new growth in the bright sunshine unless they feel the warmth of enlightenment.
There are four practices that will allow us to turn remembrance into renewal more often. Tomorrow, the Fourth of these practices: The beneficiaries of any rebirth must be the living, especially those living most closely around us.
May Our Remembrance Become Our Renewal – Part 3
Remarks made at the annual Celebration of Remembrance & Renewal of the Ancient & Accepted Scottish Rite of Utah, James Lowe Chapter Rose Croix in the Valley of Salt Lake on Thursday, April 23, 2009.
There are four practices that will allow us to turn remembrance into renewal more often. Second: All of us are less than perfect, and we must forgive and forget to set aside the imperfections that block our view of truth.
Those who look back at departed friends, parents, family, or acquaintances remembering every slight, hurt, or sin are, in my experience, bitter, chronically negative, and poor companions.
Those who look for and find the wisdom, strength, and beauty in every experience, person, or memory are the best companions. Even in illness or adversity they are the most divine of humanity.
Often it is not until we try parenting ourselves that we are impressed with the job our own parents did, and begin to wonder why we weren’t the children we should have been.
A Masonic Tradition records that Hiram, King of Tyre and Solomon, King of Israel had a disagreement that almost ended their friendship, and could easily have led to war.
Hiram sought forgiveness for his “hasty words and unjust suspicions.” Solomon told Hiram that his words were “forgiven and forgotten.”[1]
Every time someone says, “I can forgive, but I will never forget,” what I hear is, “I just can’t forgive!”
In the aforementioned Masonic Tradition, Solomon wisely taught his Royal Friend that, “Forgiveness is a Divine Virtue, for everyday God forgives us much or He would not suffer us to live.”[2]
Many of us, and most especially me, need to forgive and forget more often, more fully, and more divinely in order to free ourselves and others from error.
There are four practices that will allow us to turn remembrance into renewal more often. Tomorrow, the Third of these practices: In every life there is some virtue, that is: something wise, strong, or beautiful; and we have to find it, and let it inspire us.
[1] AASR, 6th Degree Ritual
[2] AASR, 6th Degree Ritual
There are four practices that will allow us to turn remembrance into renewal more often. Second: All of us are less than perfect, and we must forgive and forget to set aside the imperfections that block our view of truth.
Those who look back at departed friends, parents, family, or acquaintances remembering every slight, hurt, or sin are, in my experience, bitter, chronically negative, and poor companions.
Those who look for and find the wisdom, strength, and beauty in every experience, person, or memory are the best companions. Even in illness or adversity they are the most divine of humanity.
Often it is not until we try parenting ourselves that we are impressed with the job our own parents did, and begin to wonder why we weren’t the children we should have been.
A Masonic Tradition records that Hiram, King of Tyre and Solomon, King of Israel had a disagreement that almost ended their friendship, and could easily have led to war.
Hiram sought forgiveness for his “hasty words and unjust suspicions.” Solomon told Hiram that his words were “forgiven and forgotten.”[1]
Every time someone says, “I can forgive, but I will never forget,” what I hear is, “I just can’t forgive!”
In the aforementioned Masonic Tradition, Solomon wisely taught his Royal Friend that, “Forgiveness is a Divine Virtue, for everyday God forgives us much or He would not suffer us to live.”[2]
Many of us, and most especially me, need to forgive and forget more often, more fully, and more divinely in order to free ourselves and others from error.
There are four practices that will allow us to turn remembrance into renewal more often. Tomorrow, the Third of these practices: In every life there is some virtue, that is: something wise, strong, or beautiful; and we have to find it, and let it inspire us.
[1] AASR, 6th Degree Ritual
[2] AASR, 6th Degree Ritual
May Our Remembrance Become Our Renewal – Part 2
Remarks made at the annual Celebration of Remembrance & Renewal of the Ancient & Accepted Scottish Rite of Utah, James Lowe Chapter Rose Croix in the Valley of Salt Lake on Thursday, April 23, 2009
There are four practices that will allow us to turn remembrance into renewal more often. First: We must faithfully and accurately record the memory.
Recently, the Frenchman Joseph Brocard passed away at the age of 88. Joseph was the last surviving member of the French Resistance network Agir, and is best remembered for locating and identifying the “Doodlebug” launch sites in northern France.
As noted in his Obituary in the Financial Times: In December 1941, while seeking out the French Resistance, Joseph Brocard was sent to meet “… Michel Hollard, a French veteran of the first world war who had … contacted an officer of the British Special Intelligence Service and … set up the Agir (Resistance) network.”[1]
Thereafter, “Brocard traveled around France, often by bicycle, under the cover of looking for wood for Hollard’s company … On the SIS’s instructions, to ensure secrecy, Agir agents were not to contact their families…use phones, radios or even the mail…Hollard collected their reports by hand …”
“When they first located the top-secret sites in Northern France (Brocard and other Agir Agents) did not know that these were for launching the V1, which could fly 100 miles… (And) carry a ton of explosives. With Agir’s maps, the RAF was able to destroy most of the V1 sites as part of Operation Crossbow …”[2]
“Brocard was arrested by the Nazis in July 1943 after being caught mapping a German airfield. He was tortured for five days before leaping from the fourth-floor window of a Gestapo-occupied villa near Paris, breaking his spine in two places.”
“…He found his way to Paris and to Hollard, who had his comrade’s torso placed in plaster. To get him proper treatment, Hollard smuggled his friend across the Swiss border on foot, sometimes crawling, sometimes with Brocard on his back.”[3]
Brocard returned to Paris to head the Agir network until the end of WWII. He was highly decorated, “… yet, according to his son, Michel, wartime politics and jealousies between former (resistance fighters)…brought him up against bureaucratic obstacles for the rest of his life. Wherever he applied for jobs in state or local agencies…he was always rejected.”
Brocard, “eventually discovered that this was due to a file on him in France’s internal intelligence service which referred to his work for the British SIS and described him as “an agent of a foreign power.””[4]
Brocard’s work changed the course of the Allied invasion of Europe and eventually freed France of Nazi domination.
Despite that, the official testimony of Brocard’s sacrifice, that is, how it was officially recorded, was documented in such a way that Brocard’s patriotism and sacrifice was diminished in the report.
As you can see, it matters how we record the memory. We must strive to do so faithfully and accurately.
There are four practices that will allow us to turn remembrance into renewal more often. Tomorrow, the Second of these practices: : All of us are less than perfect, and we must forgive and forget to set aside the imperfections that block our view of truth.
[1] Obituary, Joseph Brocard, Financial Times, April 16, 2009.
[2]Obituary, Joseph Brocard, Financial Times, April 16, 2009.
[3] Obituary, Joseph Brocard, Financial Times, April 16, 2009.
[4] Obituary, Joseph Brocard, Financial Times, April 16, 2009.
There are four practices that will allow us to turn remembrance into renewal more often. First: We must faithfully and accurately record the memory.
Recently, the Frenchman Joseph Brocard passed away at the age of 88. Joseph was the last surviving member of the French Resistance network Agir, and is best remembered for locating and identifying the “Doodlebug” launch sites in northern France.
As noted in his Obituary in the Financial Times: In December 1941, while seeking out the French Resistance, Joseph Brocard was sent to meet “… Michel Hollard, a French veteran of the first world war who had … contacted an officer of the British Special Intelligence Service and … set up the Agir (Resistance) network.”[1]
Thereafter, “Brocard traveled around France, often by bicycle, under the cover of looking for wood for Hollard’s company … On the SIS’s instructions, to ensure secrecy, Agir agents were not to contact their families…use phones, radios or even the mail…Hollard collected their reports by hand …”
“When they first located the top-secret sites in Northern France (Brocard and other Agir Agents) did not know that these were for launching the V1, which could fly 100 miles… (And) carry a ton of explosives. With Agir’s maps, the RAF was able to destroy most of the V1 sites as part of Operation Crossbow …”[2]
“Brocard was arrested by the Nazis in July 1943 after being caught mapping a German airfield. He was tortured for five days before leaping from the fourth-floor window of a Gestapo-occupied villa near Paris, breaking his spine in two places.”
“…He found his way to Paris and to Hollard, who had his comrade’s torso placed in plaster. To get him proper treatment, Hollard smuggled his friend across the Swiss border on foot, sometimes crawling, sometimes with Brocard on his back.”[3]
Brocard returned to Paris to head the Agir network until the end of WWII. He was highly decorated, “… yet, according to his son, Michel, wartime politics and jealousies between former (resistance fighters)…brought him up against bureaucratic obstacles for the rest of his life. Wherever he applied for jobs in state or local agencies…he was always rejected.”
Brocard, “eventually discovered that this was due to a file on him in France’s internal intelligence service which referred to his work for the British SIS and described him as “an agent of a foreign power.””[4]
Brocard’s work changed the course of the Allied invasion of Europe and eventually freed France of Nazi domination.
Despite that, the official testimony of Brocard’s sacrifice, that is, how it was officially recorded, was documented in such a way that Brocard’s patriotism and sacrifice was diminished in the report.
As you can see, it matters how we record the memory. We must strive to do so faithfully and accurately.
There are four practices that will allow us to turn remembrance into renewal more often. Tomorrow, the Second of these practices: : All of us are less than perfect, and we must forgive and forget to set aside the imperfections that block our view of truth.
[1] Obituary, Joseph Brocard, Financial Times, April 16, 2009.
[2]Obituary, Joseph Brocard, Financial Times, April 16, 2009.
[3] Obituary, Joseph Brocard, Financial Times, April 16, 2009.
[4] Obituary, Joseph Brocard, Financial Times, April 16, 2009.
May Our Remembrance Become Our Renewal – Part 1
I recently gave the Keynote Address at the annual Celebration of Remembrance & Renewal of the Ancient & Accepted Scottish Rite of Utah, James Lowe Chapter of Rose Croix in the Valley of Salt Lake on Thursday, April 23, 2009. It is too long for one blog post, so I've broken it up into five parts and will share those parts here over the next five days. Today, Part 1:
In my front yard, the trees bear beautiful white blossoms, green shoots poke up in the flower beds and the grass slowly becomes a lush green hue.
We are in the midst of the Annual Renewal of Life we call Spring.
Man, often as dormant in winter as a hibernating bear, moves back outside and starts to shed his winter weight. While he tends to his yard, gathers with friends and family, and enjoys the activities of the summer he turns his face toward the Sun. All of this is a part of the vast and endless Cycle of Life. Light, warmth, and renewal presuppose a time of darkness, cold and death.
The setting of the Sun and the cold dark of the night precede the bright rising of the Sun and the promise of a new day.
In the middle of this Rebirth, we have assembled, as noted elsewhere in Ritual, “… to honor the memory of those brethren whom death hath taken from us; to contemplate our own approaching dissolution; and, by the remembrance of immortality, to raise our souls above the considerations of this transitory existence.”[1]
Soong Mei-ling, better remembered as Madam Chiang Kai-Shek, taught that, “We live in the present, we dream of the future, and we learn eternal truths from the past.”
Eternal truths, gleaned from those past, have the power to lift our spirits. As I participated in the Spring Reunion, I once again found inspiration in the Degrees, and my batteries were recharged.
As we learn more about the human brain, we have discovered that human memory is not like making a documentary film. Each experience is deeply affected by our point-of-view when it is recorded. They are influenced again each time we take a memory out of storage, view it or share it.
Over time, our memories quite naturally change. Add to this the psychological need of man to rationalize his behavior, and you can easily see why, “The older I get the better I was!”
Some experiences don’t even get into memory. Jack Nicklaus notoriously refused to recall bad putts. You may feel his oft repeated claim, “I never three putt,” when he most assuredly did, was more boast than truth.
Nicklaus was, in fact, simply modeling a behavior he wanted to perfect. He had learned to block any facts that did not fit with his ideal. It made the difference between him and an average Putter.
When I line up a much needed putt, I find thousands of missed putts haunting me. All too often I melt down. That is one reason I am not chasing Tiger every weekend for a million dollar purse. My driving and my chipping are two other reasons!
How we think not only affects outcomes in our daily life but also influences our memory. When we ignore facts, and there are lots of reasons why we do, there is a gap between our memory and reality.
Unlike the Cycle of the Seasons where Winter turns to Spring when it is time, remembrance does not always, or automatically, turns into renewal.
A profound experience, exceptional example, or powerful memory may trigger a life-altering change, but even then we must act upon it. And if our mind and heart are not receptive then the remembering is just reminiscing.
There are four practices that will allow us to turn remembrance into renewal more often. Tomorrow, the First of these practices: We must faithfully and accurately record the memory.
[1] Ritual, Lodge of Sorrow
In my front yard, the trees bear beautiful white blossoms, green shoots poke up in the flower beds and the grass slowly becomes a lush green hue.
We are in the midst of the Annual Renewal of Life we call Spring.
Man, often as dormant in winter as a hibernating bear, moves back outside and starts to shed his winter weight. While he tends to his yard, gathers with friends and family, and enjoys the activities of the summer he turns his face toward the Sun. All of this is a part of the vast and endless Cycle of Life. Light, warmth, and renewal presuppose a time of darkness, cold and death.
The setting of the Sun and the cold dark of the night precede the bright rising of the Sun and the promise of a new day.
In the middle of this Rebirth, we have assembled, as noted elsewhere in Ritual, “… to honor the memory of those brethren whom death hath taken from us; to contemplate our own approaching dissolution; and, by the remembrance of immortality, to raise our souls above the considerations of this transitory existence.”[1]
Soong Mei-ling, better remembered as Madam Chiang Kai-Shek, taught that, “We live in the present, we dream of the future, and we learn eternal truths from the past.”
Eternal truths, gleaned from those past, have the power to lift our spirits. As I participated in the Spring Reunion, I once again found inspiration in the Degrees, and my batteries were recharged.
As we learn more about the human brain, we have discovered that human memory is not like making a documentary film. Each experience is deeply affected by our point-of-view when it is recorded. They are influenced again each time we take a memory out of storage, view it or share it.
Over time, our memories quite naturally change. Add to this the psychological need of man to rationalize his behavior, and you can easily see why, “The older I get the better I was!”
Some experiences don’t even get into memory. Jack Nicklaus notoriously refused to recall bad putts. You may feel his oft repeated claim, “I never three putt,” when he most assuredly did, was more boast than truth.
Nicklaus was, in fact, simply modeling a behavior he wanted to perfect. He had learned to block any facts that did not fit with his ideal. It made the difference between him and an average Putter.
When I line up a much needed putt, I find thousands of missed putts haunting me. All too often I melt down. That is one reason I am not chasing Tiger every weekend for a million dollar purse. My driving and my chipping are two other reasons!
How we think not only affects outcomes in our daily life but also influences our memory. When we ignore facts, and there are lots of reasons why we do, there is a gap between our memory and reality.
Unlike the Cycle of the Seasons where Winter turns to Spring when it is time, remembrance does not always, or automatically, turns into renewal.
A profound experience, exceptional example, or powerful memory may trigger a life-altering change, but even then we must act upon it. And if our mind and heart are not receptive then the remembering is just reminiscing.
There are four practices that will allow us to turn remembrance into renewal more often. Tomorrow, the First of these practices: We must faithfully and accurately record the memory.
[1] Ritual, Lodge of Sorrow
Friday, May 22, 2009
Memorial Day Tribute
Many years ago my oldest daughter, Lyssha, married a nice young man who subsequently joined the Air Force. Last year, my Nicole married a fine man who was on his way to Basic Military Training just weeks after they married. And late last year, we lost our baby, Natalie, when she married a good man who’d courted her while he completed his aircraft maintenance training with the Navy.
It seems that quite unwittingly, I created the Non-Commissioned branch of the Tibbitts Family – my Father, Uncle and Brother all being retired Air Force Majors and aircrew. I chose to enter as an E-1, and while I still technically out-rank all my sons-in-law, I suspect it won’t be for long.
I’m very proud of all of these men for a number of reasons. First, they are fine young men, honorable and capable. Second, they love my daughters and do their best to look after them. And lastly, they are all patriots.
Jacob, the eldest, just left for his second tour in Afghanistan and his three daughters miss him dreadfully. He is a great father, but also very good at what he does, and what he does is support Army Rangers, embedded with them to call in close air support. He’s also been in Iraq twice, and spent a year without his family, on the border between North and South Korea.
Dan is a member of the Utah Air Guard. He was actually headed for an Army Enlistment when his future Father-in-Law (ah, yes that’s me) let him know that we are an Air Force Family. He agreed to speak with a family friend who happens to be both a Lt. Colonel in the Utah Air Guard and the head of Personnel.
Danny finished all his schools last year and does his duty while finishing his degree. He may well be called upon to rotate to Afghanistan later this year. He manages emergency situations – especially those related to chemical, nuclear, or biological warfare, and has special training in road side bombs events.
Nate is a radar and cockpit tech assigned to the Navy Growler (a very special version of the F-18) in Washington. When he asked for my daughters hand (as they all did --- and not at my insistence!) I noted that we could probably relax the Air Force Family rule to allow him because of his association with jet aircraft. It’s only fair; we share a specialty (my entire career was as an aircraft maintenance mechanic, technician, instructor and manager for the F4 and F16.)
There is a good chance that Nate will have to make a very long voyage at sea with a Carrier Group without my Natalie, or that he will leave the country for an assignment in Asia (and take her with him) next year.
As proud as I am of them, I also want to pay tribute to their wives and in Jake’s case, children. In addition to being a Vet, I am also a military brat – to be quite precise, I was an Officers Brat. I noted at Dan and Nicole’s wedding luncheon in my remarks that when Dan put on the uniform he was part of the fourth generation of our family to do so.
I know from my experiences that those who are left behind also serve but are rarely acknowledged. It appears to me that the Armed Services are doing a bit better with support and recognition of this fact, but it is still far from what is needed. Of course, one thing an Air Force Brat learns early is that it takes the government to really screw up something simple. And the complicated … well, they have a two-word phrase for what that looks like but it’s completely inappropriate for me to share it with you.
I’m proud of the sacrifices my Mother, sisters, brothers, daughters and grandchildren make. They also do, or have done, things that require courage and fortitude. They are often lonely. They worry and fret. And they aren’t the same until they are reunited, whether it is a normal day at the base, a training assignment or a conflict that takes their service member from them.
I’m grateful for the commitment of those who serve today, among them my three sons-in-law. I’m so thankful for the sacrifices of their parents, spouses, and children. I’m grateful for all those who have served. And I appreciate the opportunity I had to put on the uniform of my beloved nation for a decade.
I hope you will take some time to think about those who have served this great nation, those who now serve, and the families who support and love them this weekend. And I hope you will be filled with gratitude and appreciation.
It seems that quite unwittingly, I created the Non-Commissioned branch of the Tibbitts Family – my Father, Uncle and Brother all being retired Air Force Majors and aircrew. I chose to enter as an E-1, and while I still technically out-rank all my sons-in-law, I suspect it won’t be for long.
I’m very proud of all of these men for a number of reasons. First, they are fine young men, honorable and capable. Second, they love my daughters and do their best to look after them. And lastly, they are all patriots.
Jacob, the eldest, just left for his second tour in Afghanistan and his three daughters miss him dreadfully. He is a great father, but also very good at what he does, and what he does is support Army Rangers, embedded with them to call in close air support. He’s also been in Iraq twice, and spent a year without his family, on the border between North and South Korea.
Dan is a member of the Utah Air Guard. He was actually headed for an Army Enlistment when his future Father-in-Law (ah, yes that’s me) let him know that we are an Air Force Family. He agreed to speak with a family friend who happens to be both a Lt. Colonel in the Utah Air Guard and the head of Personnel.
Danny finished all his schools last year and does his duty while finishing his degree. He may well be called upon to rotate to Afghanistan later this year. He manages emergency situations – especially those related to chemical, nuclear, or biological warfare, and has special training in road side bombs events.
Nate is a radar and cockpit tech assigned to the Navy Growler (a very special version of the F-18) in Washington. When he asked for my daughters hand (as they all did --- and not at my insistence!) I noted that we could probably relax the Air Force Family rule to allow him because of his association with jet aircraft. It’s only fair; we share a specialty (my entire career was as an aircraft maintenance mechanic, technician, instructor and manager for the F4 and F16.)
There is a good chance that Nate will have to make a very long voyage at sea with a Carrier Group without my Natalie, or that he will leave the country for an assignment in Asia (and take her with him) next year.
As proud as I am of them, I also want to pay tribute to their wives and in Jake’s case, children. In addition to being a Vet, I am also a military brat – to be quite precise, I was an Officers Brat. I noted at Dan and Nicole’s wedding luncheon in my remarks that when Dan put on the uniform he was part of the fourth generation of our family to do so.
I know from my experiences that those who are left behind also serve but are rarely acknowledged. It appears to me that the Armed Services are doing a bit better with support and recognition of this fact, but it is still far from what is needed. Of course, one thing an Air Force Brat learns early is that it takes the government to really screw up something simple. And the complicated … well, they have a two-word phrase for what that looks like but it’s completely inappropriate for me to share it with you.
I’m proud of the sacrifices my Mother, sisters, brothers, daughters and grandchildren make. They also do, or have done, things that require courage and fortitude. They are often lonely. They worry and fret. And they aren’t the same until they are reunited, whether it is a normal day at the base, a training assignment or a conflict that takes their service member from them.
I’m grateful for the commitment of those who serve today, among them my three sons-in-law. I’m so thankful for the sacrifices of their parents, spouses, and children. I’m grateful for all those who have served. And I appreciate the opportunity I had to put on the uniform of my beloved nation for a decade.
I hope you will take some time to think about those who have served this great nation, those who now serve, and the families who support and love them this weekend. And I hope you will be filled with gratitude and appreciation.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Authentic Candidates
In early February, I was working about the house on a Saturday when I received a call from the CEO of our Credit Union. This is a man of superior ability and great integrity, and unfortunately, he called to let me know that the “cold” he’d had since last summer had been diagnosed as cancer.
Since that time, I have watched his health deteriorate quite rapidly. I’ve also see what Ralph J. Bunche would call his “bigness,” that is, the full flowering of his personality in a time of personal crisis. At his insistence, the board of directors has been busy searching for, and interviewing candidates to be the new CEO.
Hiring is a basic business process. It begins with getting the word out and ends with a qualified, new employee. In between those two innocuous sounding steps is lots of reading, vetting, researching, interviewing, fact-checking, formulating, and “discussing.”
Finding an authentic candidate with the right fit is hard, time-consuming work for a selection committee. There are many well-qualified, good people looking for employment these days. When you advertise for a position like CEO of a Credit Union with $250 million plus in assets, you get a pool full of well-educated, highly-qualified people.
While I’m no novice at hiring, having done much during my career, hiring a CEO has been the most interesting experience I’ve had for a number of years. I’ve gained an appreciation for things I haven’t thought much about for awhile.
For example: The genuine article is quite impressive! The authentic candidate is the man or woman who has not been completely taken over by interview coaches and current hiring wisdom.
It takes a lot of courage to be authentic. You have to risk taking the wrong stand and being rejected.
Finding a “real” candidate with the right fit is made more difficult by our current formulaic process. It is tough for a candidate to be themselves. All the prevailing wisdom is pushing a specific formula for interviewing that often obscures the individual.
Frankly, if I hear another candidate say, “That’s a good question …” I think I’ll scream.
But lest you think it is only the candidate that perpetuates the formula, rest assured that silly interviewer questions like, “Please tell us one of your strengths and one of your weaknesses,” are a huge part of the problem. (“Ah, gee, let me see, my biggest weakness is that I am a workaholic!”)
Leading questions that get the candidate talking about their experience and experiences – and keep the candidate talking for most of the interview, give you the best opportunity to get to know them. All the facts can be checked. The important part is seeing who they are, and for that they have to talk, and talk, and talk some more.
You might be surprised what you learn when you give the candidate the opportunity to talk for roughly an hour about themselves and only interrupt for clarification. Authentic candidates eschew the formula, answer the questions and let the chips fall where they may.
Over the last eight weeks I’ve seen several candidates who “play the game” very well. Interestingly, not a one of them is progressing into our final interviews. Neither are any that have actively obscured facts we had at our fingertips. And neither are those who were qualified and genuine and just won’t fit with our direction or culture.
Our final candidates are all women or men with the confidence, integrity and courage to answer us directly and be themselves. They didn’t cover up, but they did explain when needed. And they will fit into our culture and appear to be capable of leading in an appropriate direction.
And when the final decision is made, perhaps I can get a good night’s sleep.
Since that time, I have watched his health deteriorate quite rapidly. I’ve also see what Ralph J. Bunche would call his “bigness,” that is, the full flowering of his personality in a time of personal crisis. At his insistence, the board of directors has been busy searching for, and interviewing candidates to be the new CEO.
Hiring is a basic business process. It begins with getting the word out and ends with a qualified, new employee. In between those two innocuous sounding steps is lots of reading, vetting, researching, interviewing, fact-checking, formulating, and “discussing.”
Finding an authentic candidate with the right fit is hard, time-consuming work for a selection committee. There are many well-qualified, good people looking for employment these days. When you advertise for a position like CEO of a Credit Union with $250 million plus in assets, you get a pool full of well-educated, highly-qualified people.
While I’m no novice at hiring, having done much during my career, hiring a CEO has been the most interesting experience I’ve had for a number of years. I’ve gained an appreciation for things I haven’t thought much about for awhile.
For example: The genuine article is quite impressive! The authentic candidate is the man or woman who has not been completely taken over by interview coaches and current hiring wisdom.
It takes a lot of courage to be authentic. You have to risk taking the wrong stand and being rejected.
Finding a “real” candidate with the right fit is made more difficult by our current formulaic process. It is tough for a candidate to be themselves. All the prevailing wisdom is pushing a specific formula for interviewing that often obscures the individual.
Frankly, if I hear another candidate say, “That’s a good question …” I think I’ll scream.
But lest you think it is only the candidate that perpetuates the formula, rest assured that silly interviewer questions like, “Please tell us one of your strengths and one of your weaknesses,” are a huge part of the problem. (“Ah, gee, let me see, my biggest weakness is that I am a workaholic!”)
Leading questions that get the candidate talking about their experience and experiences – and keep the candidate talking for most of the interview, give you the best opportunity to get to know them. All the facts can be checked. The important part is seeing who they are, and for that they have to talk, and talk, and talk some more.
You might be surprised what you learn when you give the candidate the opportunity to talk for roughly an hour about themselves and only interrupt for clarification. Authentic candidates eschew the formula, answer the questions and let the chips fall where they may.
Over the last eight weeks I’ve seen several candidates who “play the game” very well. Interestingly, not a one of them is progressing into our final interviews. Neither are any that have actively obscured facts we had at our fingertips. And neither are those who were qualified and genuine and just won’t fit with our direction or culture.
Our final candidates are all women or men with the confidence, integrity and courage to answer us directly and be themselves. They didn’t cover up, but they did explain when needed. And they will fit into our culture and appear to be capable of leading in an appropriate direction.
And when the final decision is made, perhaps I can get a good night’s sleep.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
If they can't fix potholes ...
One of my little quirks: I never take the same route to work two days in a row. At this time of the year in the Salt Lake Valley, that idiosyncrasy has some interesting results.
Like the other day when … It came seemingly out of nowhere! And I wasn’t even speeding. But when I saw it out of the corner of my eye, I reacted with both brakes and a tug on the wheel that would have made Andretti proud. Of course, all I did was perfectly position my passenger-side front wheel to drop neatly into the center of that yawning hole that somehow opened up in the asphalt since I last drove 2700 West.
As the wheel slammed into the back of the pothole, my car shuttered and I swore, and just at that moment this thought also hit me: " These people, these government managers who can’t seem to purchase the right materials to withstand our winters, these administrators who can’t get those holes repaired before they cost the taxpayer the additional tax of auto repairs – these bureaucrats who nightly bring you the traffic jam, and the ridiculous on-ramps from hell – they want to run our financial institutions too. "
And fix our healthcare.
Like the other day when … It came seemingly out of nowhere! And I wasn’t even speeding. But when I saw it out of the corner of my eye, I reacted with both brakes and a tug on the wheel that would have made Andretti proud. Of course, all I did was perfectly position my passenger-side front wheel to drop neatly into the center of that yawning hole that somehow opened up in the asphalt since I last drove 2700 West.
As the wheel slammed into the back of the pothole, my car shuttered and I swore, and just at that moment this thought also hit me: " These people, these government managers who can’t seem to purchase the right materials to withstand our winters, these administrators who can’t get those holes repaired before they cost the taxpayer the additional tax of auto repairs – these bureaucrats who nightly bring you the traffic jam, and the ridiculous on-ramps from hell – they want to run our financial institutions too. "
And fix our healthcare.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Madoff to Prison?
Bernie Madoff admitted his guilt in a Manhattan courtroom yesterday. He will probably be in prison for the rest of his life, and unless his wife and heirs are absolutely stupid, we’ve little hope that most of his ill-gotten gains will be recovered. And what’s more, he is going to cost us hundreds of thousands of dollars while he dies in prison.
You know, the problem with thinking humans are highly-evolved beings is that all around us there is an abundance of evidence that we are simply less-hairy apes with a large vocabulary. As long as we are driven to use simple and archaic methods to punish wrong-doers, our behavior will continue to resemble that of Jane Goodall’s friends in the mist.
We’ve relied on the primacy of property for far too long in this country. It is time we make prison a place for those vicious, violent people who commit violent crimes against people, and use the courts to ensure that crimes against property are made right – undone if you will.
Prison overcrowding is an epidemic in our country. For that you can blame not simply some slide from morality, but mostly law makers who continue to decide that every infringement upon the property of another deserves prison time.
Better than sending Bernie to prison, why not order that he repay every dime and suspend his right to declare bankruptcy? Attach a permanent ankle-bracelet and confine him to a small geographic area. Let him figure out where his next meal is coming from, and how he is going to pay for his healthcare.
Then assign one competent $40k a year paralegal to follow the trail of every asset and account he, his wife, children, or close friends ever used and repatriate the lost and stolen cash. Repay all his investors proportionally from each month’s proceeds.
But the problem is that those Bernie defrauded will feel somehow ripped off because he isn’t rotting in prison. They will say the crime against them is as worthy of prison time as any violent crime. But let one of those who lost their life savings stand face-to-face with a woman who has been brutally beaten and raped and tell her losing their life- savings is the same thing as the vicious crime she endured. It isn’t.
And have you ever seen a guy after he gets out of prison? Far from rotting, they have a lean, buff look about them. And unlike those retirees, Bernie isn’t going to have to worry about where his next meal comes from …
I’m reminded that when Moses gave the law, “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth,” it was a revolutionary move, bringing sanity to a harsh and forbidding time and people. It was a move to make right the wrongs inflicted on one and their property by another, rather than simply punishing the offenders (usually by death.) And it was light-years ahead of where we have sunk.
It is well past time for a reformation.
You know, the problem with thinking humans are highly-evolved beings is that all around us there is an abundance of evidence that we are simply less-hairy apes with a large vocabulary. As long as we are driven to use simple and archaic methods to punish wrong-doers, our behavior will continue to resemble that of Jane Goodall’s friends in the mist.
We’ve relied on the primacy of property for far too long in this country. It is time we make prison a place for those vicious, violent people who commit violent crimes against people, and use the courts to ensure that crimes against property are made right – undone if you will.
Prison overcrowding is an epidemic in our country. For that you can blame not simply some slide from morality, but mostly law makers who continue to decide that every infringement upon the property of another deserves prison time.
Better than sending Bernie to prison, why not order that he repay every dime and suspend his right to declare bankruptcy? Attach a permanent ankle-bracelet and confine him to a small geographic area. Let him figure out where his next meal is coming from, and how he is going to pay for his healthcare.
Then assign one competent $40k a year paralegal to follow the trail of every asset and account he, his wife, children, or close friends ever used and repatriate the lost and stolen cash. Repay all his investors proportionally from each month’s proceeds.
But the problem is that those Bernie defrauded will feel somehow ripped off because he isn’t rotting in prison. They will say the crime against them is as worthy of prison time as any violent crime. But let one of those who lost their life savings stand face-to-face with a woman who has been brutally beaten and raped and tell her losing their life- savings is the same thing as the vicious crime she endured. It isn’t.
And have you ever seen a guy after he gets out of prison? Far from rotting, they have a lean, buff look about them. And unlike those retirees, Bernie isn’t going to have to worry about where his next meal comes from …
I’m reminded that when Moses gave the law, “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth,” it was a revolutionary move, bringing sanity to a harsh and forbidding time and people. It was a move to make right the wrongs inflicted on one and their property by another, rather than simply punishing the offenders (usually by death.) And it was light-years ahead of where we have sunk.
It is well past time for a reformation.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Rocky Mountain No. 205
On March 6, 1859 the Grand Lodge of Missouri granted a charter to Rocky Mountain Lodge No. 205. Rocky Mountain Lodge was the first organized Lodge of Masons in the Utah Territory, and Utah Masons celebrate its Sesquicentennial Anniversary today. (1)
Rocky Mountain Lodge was organized by the officers of Johnston’s Army. That army, commanded by Col. A.S. Johnston, was sent to Utah in August 1857 by President James Buchanan. They were charged with putting down the Mormon “rebellion” and to install and protect Federal appointees.
The members of Rocky Mountain No. 205 were the first Masons to be granted a charter, but they were not the first Masons to enter the valley. When the first wagon of Mormon Pioneers arrived on July 24, 1847, many of the men in the company were Masons. Many others soon followed.
The occupying soldiers and the beleaguered pioneers did not mix well. Both went out of their way to antagonize one another. The soldiers were convinced that the pioneers were godless secessionists. The Pioneers were equally sure the soldiers were moral degenerates.
The misunderstandings hardened and the enmity between the good people of these two organizations I love escalated until a rule banning Mormons from membership in Utah Masonic Lodges was passed in 1925. (2)
For men of the LDS Faith, the beginning of Masonry in Utah is 1984. That is when many of the men I now call brother voted to rescind that rule. It is fitting that the LDS Church President in 1984 was Spencer W. Kimball, grandson of Heber C. Kimball. Brother Heber was one of the early Mormon Masons, and a stalwart defender of Masonry all his life.
Tonight I will sit in my home Lodge in the Salt Lake Masonic Temple with my good brothers and I will ponder the evolution of Masonry in Utah.
I will consider those men who organized Rocky Mountain Lodge No. 205 and began a rich and storied tradition. I will reflect on the good that came from that beginning. I will also contemplate the good that could have come if the majority of the Utah population had not been denied membership for six decades.
Then, I will think fondly of those men who voted to allow those of my faith the benefits of membership in the Fraternity. I will also look around me at dear friends that I may never have known if it were not for my own membership. And I will be filled with gratitude, for I’ve been richly blessed by all these men and events.
(1) There is a link on this blog if you want to read more of the history of the rise of Masonry in Utah.
(2) Each Grand Lodge is sovereign and makes its own laws and regulations, and only the Grand Lodge of Utah had such a prohibition.
Rocky Mountain Lodge was organized by the officers of Johnston’s Army. That army, commanded by Col. A.S. Johnston, was sent to Utah in August 1857 by President James Buchanan. They were charged with putting down the Mormon “rebellion” and to install and protect Federal appointees.
The members of Rocky Mountain No. 205 were the first Masons to be granted a charter, but they were not the first Masons to enter the valley. When the first wagon of Mormon Pioneers arrived on July 24, 1847, many of the men in the company were Masons. Many others soon followed.
The occupying soldiers and the beleaguered pioneers did not mix well. Both went out of their way to antagonize one another. The soldiers were convinced that the pioneers were godless secessionists. The Pioneers were equally sure the soldiers were moral degenerates.
The misunderstandings hardened and the enmity between the good people of these two organizations I love escalated until a rule banning Mormons from membership in Utah Masonic Lodges was passed in 1925. (2)
For men of the LDS Faith, the beginning of Masonry in Utah is 1984. That is when many of the men I now call brother voted to rescind that rule. It is fitting that the LDS Church President in 1984 was Spencer W. Kimball, grandson of Heber C. Kimball. Brother Heber was one of the early Mormon Masons, and a stalwart defender of Masonry all his life.
Tonight I will sit in my home Lodge in the Salt Lake Masonic Temple with my good brothers and I will ponder the evolution of Masonry in Utah.
I will consider those men who organized Rocky Mountain Lodge No. 205 and began a rich and storied tradition. I will reflect on the good that came from that beginning. I will also contemplate the good that could have come if the majority of the Utah population had not been denied membership for six decades.
Then, I will think fondly of those men who voted to allow those of my faith the benefits of membership in the Fraternity. I will also look around me at dear friends that I may never have known if it were not for my own membership. And I will be filled with gratitude, for I’ve been richly blessed by all these men and events.
(1) There is a link on this blog if you want to read more of the history of the rise of Masonry in Utah.
(2) Each Grand Lodge is sovereign and makes its own laws and regulations, and only the Grand Lodge of Utah had such a prohibition.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
New effort to cure cancer will take more than money
In his recent address to Congress, President Obama announced that “we will launch a new effort to conquer a disease that has touched the life of nearly every American, including me, by seeking a cure for cancer in our time."
The American Cancer Society (ACS) reports that a little more than 565,000 Americans were killed by cancer in 2008. In 2005 that number was roughly 559,000 Americans. (1)
As a candidate, President Obama promised a doubling of funding for cancer research in order to provide for a cure, but "... last year, the NIH received approximately $5.57 billion for cancer research, so raising that to $6 billion represents a roughly 8 percent boost … [and] in order to double cancer research funding, Obama is going to need to get up to about $11 billion.” (2)
Senator Arlen Specter has long been a proponent of increased spending for cancer research. He recently said that cancer could be cured “… if the government spent $335 billion for the research.”(3) If Senator Specter's numbers are grounded in any kind of reality, and adjusting for inflation, that means that by the time I am nearly ninety we'd have something - if cancer doesn't get me first.
But I don't believe for a minute that doubling our spending will eliminate cancer in "our time." Not every problem can be solved by applying hope as a balm and cash as a cure. Some problems require structural change to make spending effective. Any "new effort" ought to be more than simply new spending levels.
We’ve been spending significant amounts on cancer research (~ $4.8 billion a year for the past five years) and over the last three the rate climbed by roughly 6,000 people. And yes, I know the population has been increasing, but the overall rate per 100,000 persons seems to have leveled off. (4)
My biggest fear is that we have institutionalized our search for a cure, and pumping more money into multiple bureaucratic foundations and agencies will no more yield a cure than quitting my job and going pro will result in my winning The Masters this year ... even if Tiger doesn’t play!
Google the number of foundations dedicated to eliminating cancer and you will see the money is too diluted to do the kind of good it could. It seems every millionaire and celebrity who has had a brush with, or lost a loved one to cancer has some kind of foundation or fundraiser, creating a tremendous waste of funds with a multiplication of administrative efforts.
To facilitate a "new effort," why don’t we pull the brightest researchers out of all those diverse foundations and build a National Cancer Task Force? Let’s give the Task Force the money and the mandate – and a time limit! Let's add the private contributions of the foundations to government spending. Let's limit the bureaucracy. Let's fast-track approval for research and approval. Let's look long and hard at the government oversight and reform it.
Of course, this would mean that we’d have to dismantle all the organizations currently seeking a cure and send most the administrators and fundraisers off to find work with other non-profit foundations. But then the hope for a cure would have merit and the money would be focused and could be effective.
And maybe, just maybe, that cure wouldn’t cost $335 billion. ____________________________________________
(1) Source: Cancer Statistics, 2008 (American Cancer Society) - Linked on this blog.
(2) Robert Farley, More money but a long way from doubling, PolitiFact.com
(3) Gardiner Harris, Specter, a Fulcrum of the Stimulus Bill, Pulls Off a Coup for Health Money, NY Times, 02.13.2009
(4) Source: Cancer Statistics, 2008 (ACS) - Note: From 193.9 in 1950 to 183.8 in 2005, an improvement of roughly 5% in 55 years!
The American Cancer Society (ACS) reports that a little more than 565,000 Americans were killed by cancer in 2008. In 2005 that number was roughly 559,000 Americans. (1)
As a candidate, President Obama promised a doubling of funding for cancer research in order to provide for a cure, but "... last year, the NIH received approximately $5.57 billion for cancer research, so raising that to $6 billion represents a roughly 8 percent boost … [and] in order to double cancer research funding, Obama is going to need to get up to about $11 billion.” (2)
Senator Arlen Specter has long been a proponent of increased spending for cancer research. He recently said that cancer could be cured “… if the government spent $335 billion for the research.”(3) If Senator Specter's numbers are grounded in any kind of reality, and adjusting for inflation, that means that by the time I am nearly ninety we'd have something - if cancer doesn't get me first.
But I don't believe for a minute that doubling our spending will eliminate cancer in "our time." Not every problem can be solved by applying hope as a balm and cash as a cure. Some problems require structural change to make spending effective. Any "new effort" ought to be more than simply new spending levels.
We’ve been spending significant amounts on cancer research (~ $4.8 billion a year for the past five years) and over the last three the rate climbed by roughly 6,000 people. And yes, I know the population has been increasing, but the overall rate per 100,000 persons seems to have leveled off. (4)
My biggest fear is that we have institutionalized our search for a cure, and pumping more money into multiple bureaucratic foundations and agencies will no more yield a cure than quitting my job and going pro will result in my winning The Masters this year ... even if Tiger doesn’t play!
Google the number of foundations dedicated to eliminating cancer and you will see the money is too diluted to do the kind of good it could. It seems every millionaire and celebrity who has had a brush with, or lost a loved one to cancer has some kind of foundation or fundraiser, creating a tremendous waste of funds with a multiplication of administrative efforts.
To facilitate a "new effort," why don’t we pull the brightest researchers out of all those diverse foundations and build a National Cancer Task Force? Let’s give the Task Force the money and the mandate – and a time limit! Let's add the private contributions of the foundations to government spending. Let's limit the bureaucracy. Let's fast-track approval for research and approval. Let's look long and hard at the government oversight and reform it.
Of course, this would mean that we’d have to dismantle all the organizations currently seeking a cure and send most the administrators and fundraisers off to find work with other non-profit foundations. But then the hope for a cure would have merit and the money would be focused and could be effective.
And maybe, just maybe, that cure wouldn’t cost $335 billion. ____________________________________________
(1) Source: Cancer Statistics, 2008 (American Cancer Society) - Linked on this blog.
(2) Robert Farley, More money but a long way from doubling, PolitiFact.com
(3) Gardiner Harris, Specter, a Fulcrum of the Stimulus Bill, Pulls Off a Coup for Health Money, NY Times, 02.13.2009
(4) Source: Cancer Statistics, 2008 (ACS) - Note: From 193.9 in 1950 to 183.8 in 2005, an improvement of roughly 5% in 55 years!
Two-thirds
While our Founding Fathers did a pretty good job building a system of government that could place appropriate checks and balances upon those in power, they neither completely understood the past nor saw perfectly into the future. They did not always provide the correct remedy for every eventuality.
I'm quite convinced those Builders of this Nation looked back, not to Rome's Republic, but to Plato's when they built these United States. And I am equally convinced that they got more than a few things wrong. Most thoughtful people have their own list of the mistakes they made.
My list of errors includes the required majorities for the passage of legislation. I am mindful of much that has been written on the "tyranny of the minority." I have also heard more adages about the "evils of compromise," than one ought to have to hear in a life-time.
Regardless, I am seriously undeterred in my belief that requiring a so-called "super-majority" (2/3rds) for each and every bill introduced in a legislature would produce fewer but better laws. And we ought to correct this mistake to provide a better future for our grandchildren.
I'm quite convinced those Builders of this Nation looked back, not to Rome's Republic, but to Plato's when they built these United States. And I am equally convinced that they got more than a few things wrong. Most thoughtful people have their own list of the mistakes they made.
My list of errors includes the required majorities for the passage of legislation. I am mindful of much that has been written on the "tyranny of the minority." I have also heard more adages about the "evils of compromise," than one ought to have to hear in a life-time.
Regardless, I am seriously undeterred in my belief that requiring a so-called "super-majority" (2/3rds) for each and every bill introduced in a legislature would produce fewer but better laws. And we ought to correct this mistake to provide a better future for our grandchildren.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Other Alternatives?
While I deem capitalism to be the best of all known economic systems, these times cause me daily to think, “Surely there must be an economic system better for all humanity than capitalism.”
Many activities are best left to Darwinian market forces, but while it is important to reward capital and encourage innovation, some activities just don’t work well in a system that also rewards unabashed self-interest. We need a serious, reasoned and civil, public dialogue about which activities ought to generate profit and which should not.
The only problem is that such a dialogue is absolutely impossible. If anyone recommends that a particular activity – say health care – be removed from the competitive marketplace a cacophony rises with shouts of “Socialism!” and “Communism!” or arguments for government takeover.
The problem with the profit motive is that there are some activities which ought not to be accessible only to those with means leaving only scraps to fall on the masses. The problem, with government takeover is that a function shouldn’t have to be subject to the bureaucracy, fraud, waste, abuse, inefficiency and sheer stupidity of government management.
We don’t need the same old tired arguments with only two polarizing alternatives and shrill voices raised in anger and indignation.
There is at least one other way.
Let’s take Financial Services for an example. Strangely missing in the discussions we had about the record profits of some banks in prior years and those we are having now about bailout recipients (strangely, the self-same institutions) we haven't talked much about cooperative credit unions. They provide fine services to members for smaller fees generally at better rates. They are a viable model that is not profit driven but rather cooperative, and yet not socialism and/or communism.
Using this example, recognizing that the health care model has obviously failed, and that there are other social services and activities that just don’t belong to the victors or the bureaucrats, we ought to be able to talk about third, fourth or fifth ways … and not Fifth Columns or Red Scares, to the benefit of all America.
I’m either a pessimist or a realist however, for I very much doubt it.
Many activities are best left to Darwinian market forces, but while it is important to reward capital and encourage innovation, some activities just don’t work well in a system that also rewards unabashed self-interest. We need a serious, reasoned and civil, public dialogue about which activities ought to generate profit and which should not.
The only problem is that such a dialogue is absolutely impossible. If anyone recommends that a particular activity – say health care – be removed from the competitive marketplace a cacophony rises with shouts of “Socialism!” and “Communism!” or arguments for government takeover.
The problem with the profit motive is that there are some activities which ought not to be accessible only to those with means leaving only scraps to fall on the masses. The problem, with government takeover is that a function shouldn’t have to be subject to the bureaucracy, fraud, waste, abuse, inefficiency and sheer stupidity of government management.
We don’t need the same old tired arguments with only two polarizing alternatives and shrill voices raised in anger and indignation.
There is at least one other way.
Let’s take Financial Services for an example. Strangely missing in the discussions we had about the record profits of some banks in prior years and those we are having now about bailout recipients (strangely, the self-same institutions) we haven't talked much about cooperative credit unions. They provide fine services to members for smaller fees generally at better rates. They are a viable model that is not profit driven but rather cooperative, and yet not socialism and/or communism.
Using this example, recognizing that the health care model has obviously failed, and that there are other social services and activities that just don’t belong to the victors or the bureaucrats, we ought to be able to talk about third, fourth or fifth ways … and not Fifth Columns or Red Scares, to the benefit of all America.
I’m either a pessimist or a realist however, for I very much doubt it.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Nova Nation?
Last Saturday morning, while I was laboring to start a six mile run, two of the three “hanging” TV screens in the gym were showing the same college basketball game. Two sports announcers, seated before the stands, were analyzing what we were about to see, and an obnoxious fan kept flashing a large, rectangle sign he held in his outstretched hands between them.
I found myself darn nearly laughing out loud when I read the words neatly printed on that rectangle poster. “Nova Nation,” it proudly proclaimed. Seeing this started a chain of imperceptibly related thoughts in my mind that made me completely forget my struggle on the treadmill.
I find it hard to imagine “Fan Nations” even though I am proudly a part of “Red Sox Nation.” I can’t recall when I first saw the word “nation” tacked on behind a sports team, but I’m pretty sure it was connected to the Florida Gators – as in “Gator Nation.”
But what started the chain of thought that led to my smile and then chuckle was the word, “Nova” on the fan banner. In this case it signified the fans of Villanova’s fine basketball team.
Nova is the name of a great science show, but I best recall the Nova as a short, "squatty" auto, designed by Chevrolet, that never did look too good unless it was a jacked-up, two-door with over-wide tires on "boss" mag rims. It helped if it was painted a light color and had stripes down the sides to make it appear longer.
I remember all too well when General Motors (GM) decided to export the Chevy Nova across the border to Mexico. It became an immediate joke. You see in Spanish, Nova translated roughly to “No Go.” The story of GMs failure was told over and over by consultants and business reformers. It was an example of American ineptness in foreign markets juxtaposed against the clever success the Japanese were having in the US.
If you were thinking about entering a foreign market in the 1980s and 90s, then you were urged to be smarter than the boys and girls at GM who didn’t even take the time to check something as simple as name translation.
So, I broke into a smile, then a chuckle, and just sailed on for a satisfying and almost effortless six and a half miles. You see, the chain of thought ended when it then dawned on me that these days we really are a “Nova Nation.” And how fitting that once again, GM plays such a prominent part!
I found myself darn nearly laughing out loud when I read the words neatly printed on that rectangle poster. “Nova Nation,” it proudly proclaimed. Seeing this started a chain of imperceptibly related thoughts in my mind that made me completely forget my struggle on the treadmill.
I find it hard to imagine “Fan Nations” even though I am proudly a part of “Red Sox Nation.” I can’t recall when I first saw the word “nation” tacked on behind a sports team, but I’m pretty sure it was connected to the Florida Gators – as in “Gator Nation.”
But what started the chain of thought that led to my smile and then chuckle was the word, “Nova” on the fan banner. In this case it signified the fans of Villanova’s fine basketball team.
Nova is the name of a great science show, but I best recall the Nova as a short, "squatty" auto, designed by Chevrolet, that never did look too good unless it was a jacked-up, two-door with over-wide tires on "boss" mag rims. It helped if it was painted a light color and had stripes down the sides to make it appear longer.
I remember all too well when General Motors (GM) decided to export the Chevy Nova across the border to Mexico. It became an immediate joke. You see in Spanish, Nova translated roughly to “No Go.” The story of GMs failure was told over and over by consultants and business reformers. It was an example of American ineptness in foreign markets juxtaposed against the clever success the Japanese were having in the US.
If you were thinking about entering a foreign market in the 1980s and 90s, then you were urged to be smarter than the boys and girls at GM who didn’t even take the time to check something as simple as name translation.
So, I broke into a smile, then a chuckle, and just sailed on for a satisfying and almost effortless six and a half miles. You see, the chain of thought ended when it then dawned on me that these days we really are a “Nova Nation.” And how fitting that once again, GM plays such a prominent part!
Friday, February 6, 2009
Centers
I count myself politically and intellectually among a segment of the Democratic Party known as “Blue Dog” Democrats. Blue Dogs tend to be fiscally conservative, socially liberal, and often work to build a bridge between the right and left wings of “politics as usual.”
Years ago I found the harsh voices on either side of the divide exhausting. Feeling like a politically “battered” Rodney King, I wanted to shout, “Can’t we all just get along and get something worthwhile done?!" I’ve no time for the hatred and entrenched positions. Such rancor may sell ad space, but it is so detrimental to anything productive.
With this in mind, I’d direct you to the writings of Gerald Seib in the Wall Street Journal yesterday (Centrist Bloc Finds a Voice Amid Senate Stimulus Debate, Gerald F. Seib, WSJ 02.05.2009). Seib reports on a group in the Senate who have met by that proverbial water fountain, and worked to cut $100-$300 Billion from the Stimulus Package the House passed with such partisan acrimony.
According to Seib, Senator Susan Collins (Maine) is largely responsible for bringing and holding together a “hardy band of senators from both parties” and their proposal is likely to be voted on today (Friday, February 06, 2009).
After pledging allegiance to the United States of America we often run off in our various directions trying to prove that the patriotism of our group is greater than all others. We’d be better off placing our allegiance to America above that of party or state and working to re-build our once great nation.
We need the Center in the Senate not only to live but to grow. We need the birth of a new Center in the House. More than that, we need an overwhelming Center to cut across the partisanship that divides our nation and to pull us together as Americans.
I hope the newly formed Center in the Senate will hold. More than that, I hope it will spread.
Years ago I found the harsh voices on either side of the divide exhausting. Feeling like a politically “battered” Rodney King, I wanted to shout, “Can’t we all just get along and get something worthwhile done?!" I’ve no time for the hatred and entrenched positions. Such rancor may sell ad space, but it is so detrimental to anything productive.
With this in mind, I’d direct you to the writings of Gerald Seib in the Wall Street Journal yesterday (Centrist Bloc Finds a Voice Amid Senate Stimulus Debate, Gerald F. Seib, WSJ 02.05.2009). Seib reports on a group in the Senate who have met by that proverbial water fountain, and worked to cut $100-$300 Billion from the Stimulus Package the House passed with such partisan acrimony.
According to Seib, Senator Susan Collins (Maine) is largely responsible for bringing and holding together a “hardy band of senators from both parties” and their proposal is likely to be voted on today (Friday, February 06, 2009).
After pledging allegiance to the United States of America we often run off in our various directions trying to prove that the patriotism of our group is greater than all others. We’d be better off placing our allegiance to America above that of party or state and working to re-build our once great nation.
We need the Center in the Senate not only to live but to grow. We need the birth of a new Center in the House. More than that, we need an overwhelming Center to cut across the partisanship that divides our nation and to pull us together as Americans.
I hope the newly formed Center in the Senate will hold. More than that, I hope it will spread.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Cha-Cha-Cha-Change!
Some of you have noticed – and commented – that I have not had much to say of late. I’ve said to at least one of you that there may be many people who wish it were so!
But it is true: I haven’t written a lot recently, not even in those little notebooks I always carry with me. I’ve been trying to come to grips with the rapid change that occurred over the last year. I’ve tracked back from the events of 2008 and determined that Halloween 2007 was the pivotal day and Lyssha’s home was the pivotal space (Lyssha is my oldest daughter.) Life was beginning to change in drastic ways and I had no idea!
On October 31, 2007, Natalie turned down a date with Nathan Terry because she was going to a Halloween Party at Lyssha’s and Nicole met Danny Saldivar at that same party.
In the weeks that followed, Nathan went off to Navy Basic Training in Illinois, and then to Florida to learn to repair aircraft radar. While he was in Florida, Nathan and Natalie began to correspond (whatever that means in this day of instant messages, cell phones, texting, and email.)
While that relationship simmered on the back burner, Nicole and Dan moved rapidly from interest, to interested, and then just as quickly to seriously interested. By the time Nicole and Dan were married in mid-July, Natalie and Nate were utilizing Verizon to its fullest – hour after hour, each and every day.
While Dan was attending Air Force Basic Training in Lackland, Texas, Nate “dropped by” on his way to his new duty station to “drop off” a ring. While Natalie planned a wedding that was as beautiful as it was different from Nicole’s, Dan went on to Missouri to learn Nuclear, Biological and Chemical emergency management.
After Nat and Nate tied the knot in a pre-Christmas ceremony that included both new sons-in-law in uniform, there was one last Christmas in South Jordan before everyone headed off in different directions.
Driving the rental truck from South Jordan to Whidbey Island, while Idaho, Oregon and Washington endured “30-year” storms (you know, those storms that newscasters start a broadcast saying, “This is the worst storm in thirty-something years!”) was nothing short of terrifying.
Moving Natalie into her new home was satisfying but leaving her at the airport to return home was wretched. Walking past the empty rooms at the house was miserable, but having Nicole close at hand is comforting, and getting Dan back home from training in Missouri was heart-warming.
Just that quickly they are grown up and gone. I always thought we’d have more time and I always thought that time would take longer to pass. I hope they will be happy. I miss them each and every day. I hope their new spouses will be kind, loving and good (like they appear to be.) I enjoy every text, phone call and visit.
Let me say for the record, they were lovable children and fascinating teens, but make no mistake; they leave home just as they are becoming truly interesting adults. Other than a few days when they were teens, I grew to love them more each and every day. I was blessed to watch them grow up. I was blessed to live with them for so long. I was blessed to see them become adults.
Now that they are grown and gone, I can also see how much I grew up with them – how they changed me into someone worthwhile. And so today, I love them for their patience with this transformed child they still call “Daddy.” They may never know just how they changed my life - and that it will never be the same.
But it is true: I haven’t written a lot recently, not even in those little notebooks I always carry with me. I’ve been trying to come to grips with the rapid change that occurred over the last year. I’ve tracked back from the events of 2008 and determined that Halloween 2007 was the pivotal day and Lyssha’s home was the pivotal space (Lyssha is my oldest daughter.) Life was beginning to change in drastic ways and I had no idea!
On October 31, 2007, Natalie turned down a date with Nathan Terry because she was going to a Halloween Party at Lyssha’s and Nicole met Danny Saldivar at that same party.
In the weeks that followed, Nathan went off to Navy Basic Training in Illinois, and then to Florida to learn to repair aircraft radar. While he was in Florida, Nathan and Natalie began to correspond (whatever that means in this day of instant messages, cell phones, texting, and email.)
While that relationship simmered on the back burner, Nicole and Dan moved rapidly from interest, to interested, and then just as quickly to seriously interested. By the time Nicole and Dan were married in mid-July, Natalie and Nate were utilizing Verizon to its fullest – hour after hour, each and every day.
While Dan was attending Air Force Basic Training in Lackland, Texas, Nate “dropped by” on his way to his new duty station to “drop off” a ring. While Natalie planned a wedding that was as beautiful as it was different from Nicole’s, Dan went on to Missouri to learn Nuclear, Biological and Chemical emergency management.
After Nat and Nate tied the knot in a pre-Christmas ceremony that included both new sons-in-law in uniform, there was one last Christmas in South Jordan before everyone headed off in different directions.
Driving the rental truck from South Jordan to Whidbey Island, while Idaho, Oregon and Washington endured “30-year” storms (you know, those storms that newscasters start a broadcast saying, “This is the worst storm in thirty-something years!”) was nothing short of terrifying.
Moving Natalie into her new home was satisfying but leaving her at the airport to return home was wretched. Walking past the empty rooms at the house was miserable, but having Nicole close at hand is comforting, and getting Dan back home from training in Missouri was heart-warming.
Just that quickly they are grown up and gone. I always thought we’d have more time and I always thought that time would take longer to pass. I hope they will be happy. I miss them each and every day. I hope their new spouses will be kind, loving and good (like they appear to be.) I enjoy every text, phone call and visit.
Let me say for the record, they were lovable children and fascinating teens, but make no mistake; they leave home just as they are becoming truly interesting adults. Other than a few days when they were teens, I grew to love them more each and every day. I was blessed to watch them grow up. I was blessed to live with them for so long. I was blessed to see them become adults.
Now that they are grown and gone, I can also see how much I grew up with them – how they changed me into someone worthwhile. And so today, I love them for their patience with this transformed child they still call “Daddy.” They may never know just how they changed my life - and that it will never be the same.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
January Resolutions
Based on the January displays in Borders and Barnes & Noble bookstores, the majority of New Year’s Resolutions are related to diet and exercise.
That is probably why January Gym-Guy suddenly appears at the gym I have been frequenting for the last five years or so. It happens every year. He used to frustrate me, but now I am merely amused by him. January Gym-Guy comes because either he or his Significant Other has decided it is time to do something about his form or health and he made a New Year’s Resolution.
January Gym Guy has a very distinctive look. He is the guy in all new and color-coordinated gym togs. He tucks in the clean, unstained shirt. His athletic shorts often still have the creases from the package. The shoes are brightly colored. The socks: new and white rather than gray and slumping on the ankle.
You can spot January Gym Guy among the Regular Gym Rats because our worn shorts long ago stopped being the color we bought, and our shirts lurch about - untucked - as we run, but the sweat-stained neck has been stretched beyond the point of return. Color combinations? Forget it! Favorite workout shirts and shorts are chosen for their comfort during a work-out. Logos are mere shades of their former self. Shoes have been used and abused.
January Gym-Guy hasn’t been to a gym for awhile (often since Gym Class!) He either makes the mistake of going out too fast or lifting too much on the first day, or being so cautious that his work out is more a Fam-Trip* than exercise.
Day one for January Gym Guy can be entertaining to watch as he gets on a tread-mill or stationary-bike, starting too fast, slowing way down, pushing the speed back up – all with no rhyme or reason. Some just hop around with little effort for a few minutes on a machine, then cleans it up and heads off to another machine to repeat the process.
And if day one is humorous, day two is downright comical. Pain evident in each movement, he “warms up” for most of the workout, and then begins warming down after a couple of minutes of “top” speed or “full” weight.
For several weeks, January Gym Guy and his meticulously styled Significant Other (the only women in make-up, their hair made-up rather than pulled back into a tidy and efficient pony-tail) make it difficult to find a parking place and get your favorite machine.
But, judging by what I have now seen for four-years in my usual gym, the good news for Regular Gym Rats is that a New Year’s Resolution begins on January 2 and ends on or about January 21, though we do rarely see one of the January Gym Guys becoming a Regular Gym Rat.
So, based upon my limited observations, if the assumption that many New Year’s Resolutions are related to diet and exercise is correct, and the appearance and disappearance of January Gym Guy in my favorite gym is fairly universal, then most New Years Resolutions last until roughly January 21 each year.
It’s not much a stretch to say that January Resolutions are not too effective as a method of behavioral change. Now, if I can just figure out if the problem here is the month of January or the nature of Resolutions, I’ll have a better idea how to modify my behavior!
* A “Fam-Trip” or “Familiarization Trip” is slang in the Travel Industry for those ultra-cheap trips Travel Providers give to Travel Agents so they will steer their clients to them.
That is probably why January Gym-Guy suddenly appears at the gym I have been frequenting for the last five years or so. It happens every year. He used to frustrate me, but now I am merely amused by him. January Gym-Guy comes because either he or his Significant Other has decided it is time to do something about his form or health and he made a New Year’s Resolution.
January Gym Guy has a very distinctive look. He is the guy in all new and color-coordinated gym togs. He tucks in the clean, unstained shirt. His athletic shorts often still have the creases from the package. The shoes are brightly colored. The socks: new and white rather than gray and slumping on the ankle.
You can spot January Gym Guy among the Regular Gym Rats because our worn shorts long ago stopped being the color we bought, and our shirts lurch about - untucked - as we run, but the sweat-stained neck has been stretched beyond the point of return. Color combinations? Forget it! Favorite workout shirts and shorts are chosen for their comfort during a work-out. Logos are mere shades of their former self. Shoes have been used and abused.
January Gym-Guy hasn’t been to a gym for awhile (often since Gym Class!) He either makes the mistake of going out too fast or lifting too much on the first day, or being so cautious that his work out is more a Fam-Trip* than exercise.
Day one for January Gym Guy can be entertaining to watch as he gets on a tread-mill or stationary-bike, starting too fast, slowing way down, pushing the speed back up – all with no rhyme or reason. Some just hop around with little effort for a few minutes on a machine, then cleans it up and heads off to another machine to repeat the process.
And if day one is humorous, day two is downright comical. Pain evident in each movement, he “warms up” for most of the workout, and then begins warming down after a couple of minutes of “top” speed or “full” weight.
For several weeks, January Gym Guy and his meticulously styled Significant Other (the only women in make-up, their hair made-up rather than pulled back into a tidy and efficient pony-tail) make it difficult to find a parking place and get your favorite machine.
But, judging by what I have now seen for four-years in my usual gym, the good news for Regular Gym Rats is that a New Year’s Resolution begins on January 2 and ends on or about January 21, though we do rarely see one of the January Gym Guys becoming a Regular Gym Rat.
So, based upon my limited observations, if the assumption that many New Year’s Resolutions are related to diet and exercise is correct, and the appearance and disappearance of January Gym Guy in my favorite gym is fairly universal, then most New Years Resolutions last until roughly January 21 each year.
It’s not much a stretch to say that January Resolutions are not too effective as a method of behavioral change. Now, if I can just figure out if the problem here is the month of January or the nature of Resolutions, I’ll have a better idea how to modify my behavior!
* A “Fam-Trip” or “Familiarization Trip” is slang in the Travel Industry for those ultra-cheap trips Travel Providers give to Travel Agents so they will steer their clients to them.
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