Divide and Conquer

This morning, my hometown newspaper’s lead story was about a rally downtown run by the Catholic Church in opposition to the Health-care Reform Law, known more commonly and derisively as “ObamaCare”. Upon glancing at the story, I was initially confused why a staunchly middle class group would be so upset about a law that would be a tremendous boon to the rank-and-file members of their congregation. The answer was obvious.  It seems they are strongly opposed to a law that forces them to offer health insurance that would pay for such forbidden items as contraception and abortion. Oh, there’s something else, too. The Catholic Church is the world’s first Big Business, and it seems Big Business has a major bug up its bum about health insurance reform.

As I was browsing the Internet a little while later (I really was doing important research, I swear), an ad popped up on the top of the screen. It showed a picture of a nice friendly lady doctor talking to a little girl. The headline was: “Don’t let government come between you and your doctor.” It was sponsored by the family-friendly sounding “Concerned Women for American Legislative Action Committee”. I scanned the webpage thoroughly, but couldn’t find a list of names for this concerned group of women. I thought this odd, since in my years of experience I have yet to encounter a concerned woman who was afraid of mentioning her own name in connection with her cause. The group did provide its Washington, DC, address.

Turns out this “group of concerned women” are opposed to the Health-care Reform Law. What a surprise! They were pretty vague on just how this law would inject the government between you and your doctor, but they swear it is so, despite their complete lack of specific references (trust us, we know?). I looked up the address, and it belongs to a female doctor. But the doctor’s office, for her medical practice that is, was located in nearby Virginia. Not sure why she had an office in DC where all the insurance industry lobbyists have offices, maybe it’s just a coincidence.

Wouldn’t it be refreshing if Big Business would just come out and say that they are opposed to health care reform because it will cost them money? Well, that’s not true, because businesses always pass along any increases in costs to consumers, or they soon go out of business. The law would, however, increase costs to the people who OWN Big Businesses. Yep, someone has to pay. In this case, it’s the people who can afford to pay.

I also came across the following article in the Christian Science Monitor. Now I’m generally skeptical about anything published anywhere, especially if there is some group with an ax to grind behind it, but the CSM is generally noted for its journalistic integrity, and is viewed as a fairly unbiased publication. This article details some important aspects of the health-care reform law:

http://www.csmonitor.com/USA/Politics/2010/0321/Health-care-reform-bill-101-Who-will-pay-for-reform

So, wealthy people are opposed to paying more taxes…yes, everyone is opposed to paying more taxes. However, if one is a wealthy American, one must remember the reason that they are wealthy: America makes becoming wealthy, and staying wealthy, easier than in many other parts of the world. Perhaps they should be more willing to accept some additional costs to offset their massive blessings. Just a thought.

What I find truly insidious is this tactic of Divide-and-Conquer. Let’s get the Catholics to oppose health-care reform because of contraceptives (By the way, if you are a devout Catholic, it really shouldn’t matter if contraception is available, you can always follow the Church doctrine and refuse to use it). Let’s get mothers worried (without justification) that health-care reform will somehow put the government in-between you and your doctor. The list goes on. The tactic is downright sneaky, and sneaky bothers me.

Facts, however, delight me. The fact that the United States of America is the only major industrialized country without mandatory universal health care also bothers me. The fact that millions of uninsured Americans have to use hospital emergency rooms as their primary care physician bothers me, because it increases health care costs for everyone else, and doesn’t begin to provide the kind of health care that is really necessary for good health.

What really bothers me most of all is greed. Now maximizing your own personal wealth is basically a sound idea. I have no real problem with it, unless you have to make someone else truly suffer in order for you to be well off. But if you think that making everyone else worse off will make you better off, then that’s greed, and it is wrong. It is wrong morally (not that many people care about morality these days), and it is wrong economically. American prosperity was based on the rising wealth of the middle class. Good jobs, providing a living wage for working people, led to vast economic expansion in the last half of the 20th century. It even allowed rich people to get richer. Apparently, they don’t think they’re rich enough.

I could go on about greed, and the excesses that the truly greedy will use to protect their wealth. But I need to step off my soapbox and get some work done. Sorry if I offended anyone, unless you’re greedy, or sneaky, or both. Then you should really do some self-examination and try to figure out if what you are doing is right for you, and for the rest of the world.

Could I Get a Scoop of Hope With That?

Outside, it is a beautiful early summer morning. Birds singing, flowers in bloom, vegetables growing and ripening on the vines. The sun shines in a clear blue sky. On the surface, everything is fine.

However, the headline of the morning paper hints at a darkness that yet remains in the world. A former football coach has been convicted of terrible crimes committed against the children he was supposedly helping. Well, at least parts of our justice system are still functioning; the monster will spend the rest of his life behind bars. Unfortunately, the victims that testified against him are now, for the most part, adults. Why did it take so long?

This being an election year here in the states, if one were to turn on the television ( I can hardly stand to do so anymore) you would see ad after ad from opposing candidates, each telling lies, half-truths and even facts to convince us that we should not vote for the other guy, and by default, vote for them. It is a sad commentary on how our system works, or rather, doesn’t work.

Our economy continues to falter and fester, along with all other economies around the globe. Our political parties point and blame and do nothing to change the situation. One party proposes something that might help, but the other party, perhaps fearing even a modicum of success from the initiative, fail to take any action. Actually, they work against any action being taken at all. In their insane desire to make the world over to suit themselves, they are quite willing to allow it to disintegrate away to nothing.

It’s all too sad. It’s depressing. It makes me lose hope.

In the midst of my despair, this morning on a social media site I use to stay connected with old friends I have not had a chance to see face to face in too long of a time, I saw a picture. It was a picture of a baby. The child of the Swedish cousins of an old friend, who lives on the East Coast, adorned with a crown of wildflowers in celebration of the Midsummer holiday. Perhaps it’s a holiday we should import. Looks fun.

I don’t know the child or her parents personally, and will probably never meet them. But I would certainly like to get to know the people with the good sense to celebrate a season by offering beauty and hope to the world, instead of focusing on the negative that surrounds us. It makes me want to at least try to do something that will leave the world a better place for this sweet little girl, and all that will follow.

So for breakfast this morning, I would like a large scoop of hope. Plop it right on top of my plate of despair, and let it run down and cover everything. And after I have my breakfast, I think I’ll go out and tend to my garden. Something needs to start growing in this world. Maybe something that will change it for the better. Perhaps we should all start the day with a hat of wildflowers. What could it hurt?

A Tale of Three Businesses

Business One…A Success Story

Many years ago, a good friend of mine started his own business. He was a gifted mechanic, a veritable genius with screwdriver and wrench, with an ability to keep even the most finicky British roadster on the road (not an easy task to be sure). Like many successful entrepreneurs, he made a startling discovery.  As his business grew, he found himself spending more and more time in his office doing bookwork, instead of on the shop floor, where he could work his magic…and earn his money.

Now most small business owners feel that keeping their books and doing the office work is what being the boss is all about. It's not…maximizing wealth is the prime directive of any business activity. My friend did the most intelligent thing I have ever witnessed in the business world. He hired someone else to run the office so he could get back to doing what he did best. So simple, yet so effective. His business continues to thrive, and his lifestyle is the envy of many.

Business Two…Recipe For Failure

I once worked for a man, a very nice, well-intentioned guy, who had purchased a thriving going concern business where he had been second banana. The business had tons of potential, but it was a highly competitive retail operation, and problems loomed on the horizon. He was a firm believer that the boss belonged in the office overseeing his operation, although whenever problems arose, his familiar lament became “I need to spend more time down on the floor, where I can keep an eye on things.” It was spectacular insight, and he did nothing to make it happen.

Instead he invested money in technology that allowed him to remain seated behind his desk, monitoring his store through a series of cameras, and speaking to his department managers on the phone. His business decreased. In order to save money, he took on more of the tasks that kept him in his office, even if it took him longer to do them than specialists in the field would have taken. His business got worse. He couldn’t afford to keep enough inventory on hand because he had spent the money in areas that didn’t contribute to sales…or profits.

His business is closed now. His investors have lost their investment, and dozens of people are out of work. Worse, the community has lost a needed business, a former friendly business that supported its customers, the kind of place that is found along Main Street, not Wall Street.

Business Three…Know Your Strengths

Ben was a natural born salesman who formed friendships with his customers, proving himself to be a loyal and always helpful ally. After working successfully for several firms, he reasoned that the time was ripe for him to step out on his own. He had a strong grasp of the technical aspects of his business, and as I mentioned, he could sell. While he understood the financial aspects of his business, he didn’t want to waste time doing bookkeeping, which would only count the money, not contribute to making it. So he did a very smart thing. Ben enlisted the aid of his friend, a CPA, in order to take care of the aspects of his business that frankly left him bored.

Ben concentrated on his strengths and allowed his friend the CPA to concentrate on the money. His business flourished.

This isn’t a fable, but there is a moral to the story. I’m sure you can figure out what it is.

LAKE MOHAWK MEMORIES

     Several years back, more than I’d really like to think about, I came home from the office with a need to unwind. It was a splendid early summer evening, with a clear blue sky, and the water was nice and smooth. I quickly shed my business clothes and put on my shorts, a polo shirt, and some well-worn Topsiders. The mosquitoes had been a bother in the evening, so I sprayed myself all over with repellent, grabbed a beer, and selected a fishing rod with a surface lure from a group stacked in the corner of the deck.

     Walking the few short steps down to the dock, I reflected on the fact that despite all of my preparations, the truth was that I didn’t care whether or not I was going to catch a fish. True, I like to fish, but no one would ever say I’m really good at it. (I once landed a huge bass fishing with my friend Bob at his place in Orlando, and he still talks about every time we go out to fish. Unfortunately, neither of our cell phones had cameras at the time, and I had left my camera at his house, so there is no proof for a cynically disbelieving world where fish stories are all too common. But we were there, and we know, and that’s enough.) My mission that evening was simply relaxation. There is something Zen-like in the repetitive casting out and retrieval of the lure that clears the mind and refreshes the soul.

     It was early in the week, and despite how splendid the weather was, there were only a few boats on the lake, probably because most normal people were at home having supper. Mine could wait. I cast out my line with its Hula-Popper lure, slowly retrieving it with the occasional pause to jerk the rod and make the “pop” that gives the lure its name. It’s an “old school” kind of lure. I caught the first bass of my life on one back in the early ‘60’s, and I’ve used them ever since. Of course, they work best when the water surface was smooth, and just then it was perfect.

     After only a few casts the stress and cares of the day were melted away. As I began my next cast I heard the deep booming bass sounds from speakers mounted high on a wakeboarder’s tower. There was a boat coming my way and I was certain they were about to defile the tranquillity of my perfect evening.

     Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against water-skiers. My brother and I were both avid slalom skiers. At the time, I had a Ski Nautique boat, designed to smooth the wake and provide the best possible pull for the skier. But wakeboarding was a next generation thing. Just as in our youth we sought out stereo systems the reproduced the best high end sounds, the new generation was all about deep, throbbing bass notes. And just as we sought to smooth out the wake from our ski boat, wakeboarder’s boats were modified to produce more wake. They do need something to jump after all. I hold no animosity toward the younger generation. I can smile at their foibles because I still clearly remember my own, even after all these years. But I now know the truth of that old saying that youth is wasted on the young.

     To be totally honest, I could feel the Karmic forces of the universe coming back to haunt me when the guy on the wakeboard dropped off right out in front of where I was fishing. How many times had we taken an inside track on a poor guy fishing in the middle of cove just so we could ski the smoothest water along the shore? Far too many I assure you. I may have had a moment of remorse in disturbing the fisherman, but it passed far too quickly. Screw the poor bastard, we were young, and owned the damn world! And now it was my turn. The boat was coming right toward me, kicking up a wake and booming out some rap song. I cursed. My peaceful evening of fishing was about to be ruined.

     Something really remarkable happened then. The boat slowed. The volume of the booming rap song was lowered to a level nearly inaudible from the shore. The wakeboarder in the water was quickly recovered, and the boat motored slowly away until they were well out of range. I could faintly hear the bass notes again as I saw the driver hit the throttle and zoom off, well out of range for any of the huge waves that I had anticipated, but never received, to bother my fishing in the least. I was chastised for my past transgressions, and taught a lesson by some youths that should have been the students, but assumed the role of teacher that fine evening.

     I cast my line out onto the still smooth surface of the water. When I jerked my lure this time, it disappeared. The tip of the rod bent and I pulled back to set the hook, feeling that slight rush that always accompanies hooking a fish. A fine, shiny largemouth bass broke the surface and danced on the end of my line for my enjoyment.

     After reeling my fish in and gently returning it to its watery environment, a smile spread across my face. It didn’t matter if one was young or old. It didn’t matter if you were a skier, wakeboarder, or fisherman. Whether you prefer your sport accompanied by booming bass sounds, or fish for a swimming bass, the lesson is clear. Even our small little corner of paradise is large enough for everyone to enjoy. All it takes is a little consideration for the other guy.