Missed a few Thursdays.
A Funeral one Thursday, San Diego another, and I don't know what on the third ... but as I said from the outset, if the appointment with self is missed, there is always next Thursday.
The trip to San Diego was fabulous. I had dinner with a friend I have not seen since my days in Japan and it was just so cool to do catch up...we were just like kids! So much fun.
The reason I went to San Diego however, was to attend an internet marketing seminar. If I have never mentioned it here, that is what I do: internet marketing. As with any profession it is important to keep up, learn new things and meet colleagues and peers in your line of work. To that end the weekend did not disappoint.
I loved the venue which was at the Hard Rock Hotel in the Gaslamp Quarter of San Diego. The whole area is uber chi chi. At the seminar of 500 or maybe 600, I met a lot of people from all parts of the world. We had time to chat, and scope out business opportunities and joint venture options and just make new friends. Life is good.
What completely blew me away at this seminar however, was the opening address by the host. Frank Kern is a surf dude, extraordinarily successful in internet marketing and showed a side of human depth that he does not often display - at least not publicly. I had the privilege to briefly chat with him and you know how you get a certain feeling about someone? The feeling I got was that this young man is a very kind human being.
In his opening address Frank spoke of the Average Man and how the average man is no longer average. Summarized in my own words, which do little justice to the original:
Back when the average man went out to work, to get a job done, to feed, clothe and house his family, being an average man meant something. The average man took responsibility for his wellbeing and did not sit around listening to excuses as to why he was no further along in his life than he was. He put in an honest day’s work and looked forward to putting in another with the hope in his heart to do better and to give more tomorrow. Being average was something to be proud of.
Yes there was always more to aspire to. The average man in those days did not buy into excuses peddled by feel good professionals. He did not think there was anything wrong with him and if occasionally the world was not rosy, well that was life and in time things improved.
Today a new industry has blossomed – the feel good industry, the instant fix for whatever is wrong with you. The media is awash with psychiatrists, psychologists, and self annointed professionals who tell the average man that indeed there is much that is wrong with him but not to worry, it is not his fault and if he but listen to them they will fix that which is wrong with him. He is sat down to an aptitude test which tells him what he can be when he grows up: a doctor, lawyer, garbage collector. Don’t worry, nothing wrong with garbage collector – it is not your fault if this is all that you are suited for, it is not your fault if:
- You can’t read – In the US 27% are functionally illiterate
- You are able to read just enough to get by – 25% - 30% in the US fall into this category.
That makes more than 50% of Americans who can barely read. But that’s not their fault. They are probably dyslexic, have ADD or ADHD or their parents did not love them enough.
Today the average man
- spends 20% of his time at work making non-work related phone calls
- 38% of those calls are job hunting (now that makes for an excellent employee)
But that’s ok … it’s not the average man's fault. The job is not meaningful, the boss demands too much and pays too little. Why would the average man not steal some time from the man who pays him for a job he hates to look for another job?
And get this … the average American household watches on average 8.35 hours of TV every day. Needed escapist therapy to handle the boredom and tedium of a life that seems to be going nowhere.
Systemically the feel good industry of “Hey you’re OK, I’m OK – its not your fault that yada, yada, yada” … systemically the average man has succumbed to a litany of lies that say
“it is not your fault…”
“..you are entitled to”
“…it is your right…”
and so the standards of the average man have been dumbed down. Today the average man is no longer proud of who he is and is not willing to do anything about it. The average man is no longer average, is bereft of values of his forebears.
This is not who we want to be, to aspire to. Today’s average man is not who we want to hang out with.
“If you want to do the things that other people can’t do, simply do the few things that other people won’t do”
Frank was diagnosed as being dyslexic, and to compound that "problem" he was pronounced to be ADD which, when the experts became even more knowledgeable, was upgraded to ADHD! Meds were the answer. For a while life was absent of chaos and internal turmoil, it flowed smoothly if somewhat artificially. The rose colored glasses he was given to wear, were, hey, OK!
Got him into college. Performed abysmally. Sure enough the aptitude test confirmed that he was not suited for higher learning, indeed collecting garbage was more like the kind of life he should be aspiring to.
Fortunately there was enough of a contrarian still lurking in Frank's body. He took off the rose colored glasses. Collecting garbage did not appeal to him. He refused to accept what others had decided for him and made his own decision: to take responsibility for himself.
Today Frank is not only wildly successful, but a bright and articulate man and all because he refused to be an average man and to accept the pablum that was being fed to him.
Till next Thursday .....
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Thursday, April 9, 2009
HAPPY EASTER!
It is Easter this Sunday - a week this Sunday if you are Eastern Orthodox. May the Easter Beagle scatter many Easter Eggs, on your lawn, behind bushes and if a yard is a mere twinkle in your eye, well then, behind the sofa and underneath the low table and behind the potted plant that should have been thrown out a long time ago but which somehow manages to survive one year after the next of near neglect.
Easter has morphed in my lifetime. Just like Christmas it seems to have lost its religious significance and has become all about chocolate. But how did the coloured easter egg become a chocolate bunny? It escapes me (but yes, I always eat the ears first)
When I was growing up Easter was an even bigger feast than Christmas - it is the most holiest of celebrations in the Eastern Orthodox Church. There was great preparation and anticipation. First - we observed lent ... well kind of. We kept Fridays free of meat and for some reason which we could never quite understand, no butter, at all. We "gave up things" for lent. I gave up candy one lent and never went back to eating it (now, lets not confuse candy with chocolate).
It was the week just before Easter - Holy Week - that was the week when all the lent observances were kept; never mind Ash Wednesday and Holy Thursday and of course Good Friday which isn't good at ll, but its all the other things that happened on the home front that made it a particularly difficult week for us kids.
The week before Easter was the week that was devoted to spring cleaning. Every window in the house had to be washed;the floors washed, polished and buffed; rugs taken outside, hung on bamboo struts, and the winter dust beaten out of them; down bedding laid out in the yard to be freshened by the clean air and sun. Heavy winter curtains were taken down and replaced with light summer cotton ones. The silver had to be polished, the china washed, the cupboards lined with clean paper. These chores and more were ours. Fortunately we had two weeks' holidays for Easter, so the first week was all about cleaning. We grumbled a lot, we kids did, but it did us no good. Mom turned a deaf ear to every objection that we had. I have to admit, that when every nook and cranny was finally clean, and everything shone just before leaving for midnight mass on Saturday, there was a special glow to the house --- it just felt so fresh and ... well, CLEAN!
Mom on the other hand spent the whole week cooking. Pies of fish, and meat, and carrots and mushrooms and cabbage and eggs filled the air with their mouthwatering aroma. Cookies and Easter Bread Kulich which is similar to the Italian Panetonne and tortes which we were allowed to decorate but not eat! Then the last to be cooked were the roasts of lamb, pork, beef, chicken and something called Holodetz which is a cross between head cheese (not so dense) and jelly (but denser)but made from pigs feet. Now this last delicacy was special not because we liked it so much, but because it was the only thing that we got a taste of before Easter - not with the finished product, but we got to suck the juice from the pig knuckles and that, after a week of gruel was the biggest treat of all. Typically this was made on a Friday because it needed all of Saturday to gel so that it could be served on Sunday. You know, in retrospect I can't believe it, we kids actually were pretty good about not eating all the yummies that were being created around us - that would never happen today!
There was a day devoted to colouring easter eggs - these were real eggs, from chickens, not chocolate eggs, and no, we could not eat them until Easter Sunday as well!
When Easter Sunday rolled around - there was no cleaning to do, no cooking, just time to enjoy the day. I don't know quite how it worked, who went to whose house when, but it all worked out well --- on Easter Sunday it was either we at our cousins or they at ours, and then the rest of the week, visits to and from other family friends.
Of course Easter meant new outfits for everyone - to wear to midnight mass. That was kind of special too. We girls got to dress in pretty dresses which gave way to ensembles and "outfits" as we grew older. Shoes and bags to match, gloves of course, and maybe a new piece of jewelry to wear around the neck or on our wrists!
I know. That was another time, another era. But, it was a good time, a good era. Can't say that I miss the cleaning ... but honestly, what I don't understand is how did the easter egg become the easter chocolate? And with apologies to Charles Schultz that beagle had best concentrate on flying his sopwith camel!
Happy Easter Everyone!
Easter has morphed in my lifetime. Just like Christmas it seems to have lost its religious significance and has become all about chocolate. But how did the coloured easter egg become a chocolate bunny? It escapes me (but yes, I always eat the ears first)
When I was growing up Easter was an even bigger feast than Christmas - it is the most holiest of celebrations in the Eastern Orthodox Church. There was great preparation and anticipation. First - we observed lent ... well kind of. We kept Fridays free of meat and for some reason which we could never quite understand, no butter, at all. We "gave up things" for lent. I gave up candy one lent and never went back to eating it (now, lets not confuse candy with chocolate).
It was the week just before Easter - Holy Week - that was the week when all the lent observances were kept; never mind Ash Wednesday and Holy Thursday and of course Good Friday which isn't good at ll, but its all the other things that happened on the home front that made it a particularly difficult week for us kids.
The week before Easter was the week that was devoted to spring cleaning. Every window in the house had to be washed;the floors washed, polished and buffed; rugs taken outside, hung on bamboo struts, and the winter dust beaten out of them; down bedding laid out in the yard to be freshened by the clean air and sun. Heavy winter curtains were taken down and replaced with light summer cotton ones. The silver had to be polished, the china washed, the cupboards lined with clean paper. These chores and more were ours. Fortunately we had two weeks' holidays for Easter, so the first week was all about cleaning. We grumbled a lot, we kids did, but it did us no good. Mom turned a deaf ear to every objection that we had. I have to admit, that when every nook and cranny was finally clean, and everything shone just before leaving for midnight mass on Saturday, there was a special glow to the house --- it just felt so fresh and ... well, CLEAN!
Mom on the other hand spent the whole week cooking. Pies of fish, and meat, and carrots and mushrooms and cabbage and eggs filled the air with their mouthwatering aroma. Cookies and Easter Bread Kulich which is similar to the Italian Panetonne and tortes which we were allowed to decorate but not eat! Then the last to be cooked were the roasts of lamb, pork, beef, chicken and something called Holodetz which is a cross between head cheese (not so dense) and jelly (but denser)but made from pigs feet. Now this last delicacy was special not because we liked it so much, but because it was the only thing that we got a taste of before Easter - not with the finished product, but we got to suck the juice from the pig knuckles and that, after a week of gruel was the biggest treat of all. Typically this was made on a Friday because it needed all of Saturday to gel so that it could be served on Sunday. You know, in retrospect I can't believe it, we kids actually were pretty good about not eating all the yummies that were being created around us - that would never happen today!
There was a day devoted to colouring easter eggs - these were real eggs, from chickens, not chocolate eggs, and no, we could not eat them until Easter Sunday as well!
When Easter Sunday rolled around - there was no cleaning to do, no cooking, just time to enjoy the day. I don't know quite how it worked, who went to whose house when, but it all worked out well --- on Easter Sunday it was either we at our cousins or they at ours, and then the rest of the week, visits to and from other family friends.
Of course Easter meant new outfits for everyone - to wear to midnight mass. That was kind of special too. We girls got to dress in pretty dresses which gave way to ensembles and "outfits" as we grew older. Shoes and bags to match, gloves of course, and maybe a new piece of jewelry to wear around the neck or on our wrists!
I know. That was another time, another era. But, it was a good time, a good era. Can't say that I miss the cleaning ... but honestly, what I don't understand is how did the easter egg become the easter chocolate? And with apologies to Charles Schultz that beagle had best concentrate on flying his sopwith camel!
Happy Easter Everyone!
Friday, April 3, 2009
The murky world of assassins
A recent conversation centered around assassination with generous servings of political condemnation. It is always a source of wonderment to me as to how it is so easy for the armchair pundits to paint the world a simple black or white. Our increasingly liberal mindedness is quick to fault everything about the western system of government. What prompted this conversation was a taping of an interview with Walter Mondale in which he reveals that political assassination is common amongst the western nations.
Gasp! Isn’t horrible! My friends were aghast and were quick to jump on the guilty wagon. There must a better way to govern, they said.
Political assassinations are an extension of a type of war. We won’t go into the technicalities of it here, indeed far too complex and beyond my scope.
Taking a slight tack to the left (or would that be to the right), I asked what their take on the world’s most famous and beloved assassin of all was, one James Bond, aka 007.
Blank stares met my eyes.
Immediately I was met with protests. Oh, but he’s a spy and a fictitious one at that.
Hmm. Is he?
James is that rare breed of spy. Blessed with killer looks, nerves of steel, charm and wit, athletic agility, and other qualities we mere humans can only dream of. James overcomes adversity, leaps over impossible obstacles, and against improbable odds vanquishes the bad guy, saving the day yet one more time for Mother England and the world.
James Bond, the spy, carries a license to kill. That makes him a professional assassin.
James Bond is fashioned after a true, real life spy – Sidney Reilly, who served in Her Majesty’s Service a century ago. An excellent series. Reilly Ace of Spies starring Sam Neill, ran on the tube several years back; it chronicles the dirty, underground grit of the business of being a spy. The trailer reads:
”At the turn of the 20th century, one remarkable man single-handedly tried to alter the course of history. Cold, ruthless, enigmatic, this Russian-born British agent radically transformed modern espionage techniques and set the mold for a new kind of secret agent-the super spy. Reilly: Ace Of Spies is the thrilling, suspenseful dramatization of the real-life adventures of Agent ST-1, aka Sidney Reilly, the inspiration behind Ian Fleming's James Bond. Shot in glorious period detail, one heart-pulsing mission after another captures the arc of Reilly's brilliant career.
With acclaimed actor Sam Neill (JURASSIC PARK) in the lead role, REILLY: ACE OF SPIES was a gripping crime series, with all 12 episodes included here. Neill played Sidney Riley, an ace spy who risked life and limb to allow justice to prevail. What sets this series apart from the deluge of other titles in the genre is that Riley was a real person, and the events portrayed all actually happened. With that in mind, viewers are taken on a rollercoaster ride of emotions as the deft crime solver undertakes some jawdropping feats of bravery during his missions. The original inspiration for the James Bond character, REILLY: ACE OF SPIES is a glowing testament to one of the all-time great spies”
You can get the DVD. It is worth the $49.95.
Reilly fell a tad short of accomplishing his mission. I can’t help but think how different the course of world history would have been, had he succeeded. Better than going to war.
Gasp! Isn’t horrible! My friends were aghast and were quick to jump on the guilty wagon. There must a better way to govern, they said.
Political assassinations are an extension of a type of war. We won’t go into the technicalities of it here, indeed far too complex and beyond my scope.
Taking a slight tack to the left (or would that be to the right), I asked what their take on the world’s most famous and beloved assassin of all was, one James Bond, aka 007.
Blank stares met my eyes.
Immediately I was met with protests. Oh, but he’s a spy and a fictitious one at that.
Hmm. Is he?
James is that rare breed of spy. Blessed with killer looks, nerves of steel, charm and wit, athletic agility, and other qualities we mere humans can only dream of. James overcomes adversity, leaps over impossible obstacles, and against improbable odds vanquishes the bad guy, saving the day yet one more time for Mother England and the world.
James Bond, the spy, carries a license to kill. That makes him a professional assassin.
James Bond is fashioned after a true, real life spy – Sidney Reilly, who served in Her Majesty’s Service a century ago. An excellent series. Reilly Ace of Spies starring Sam Neill, ran on the tube several years back; it chronicles the dirty, underground grit of the business of being a spy. The trailer reads:
”At the turn of the 20th century, one remarkable man single-handedly tried to alter the course of history. Cold, ruthless, enigmatic, this Russian-born British agent radically transformed modern espionage techniques and set the mold for a new kind of secret agent-the super spy. Reilly: Ace Of Spies is the thrilling, suspenseful dramatization of the real-life adventures of Agent ST-1, aka Sidney Reilly, the inspiration behind Ian Fleming's James Bond. Shot in glorious period detail, one heart-pulsing mission after another captures the arc of Reilly's brilliant career.
With acclaimed actor Sam Neill (JURASSIC PARK) in the lead role, REILLY: ACE OF SPIES was a gripping crime series, with all 12 episodes included here. Neill played Sidney Riley, an ace spy who risked life and limb to allow justice to prevail. What sets this series apart from the deluge of other titles in the genre is that Riley was a real person, and the events portrayed all actually happened. With that in mind, viewers are taken on a rollercoaster ride of emotions as the deft crime solver undertakes some jawdropping feats of bravery during his missions. The original inspiration for the James Bond character, REILLY: ACE OF SPIES is a glowing testament to one of the all-time great spies”
You can get the DVD. It is worth the $49.95.
Reilly fell a tad short of accomplishing his mission. I can’t help but think how different the course of world history would have been, had he succeeded. Better than going to war.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Pursuit of Happiness
If you are feeling a tad out of sorts because life has just taken a turn for the worse, perhaps you’re feeling a bit sad --- or maybe a lot.
No worries. The Band of Happiness will come and play for you and shake you out of your doldrums whether you want to or not.
There is an easy solution for everything. It seems that we somehow have evolved into a society that is all too eager to reach for the magic potion that lulls us into a state of wellbeing while numbing, or would that be dumbing down our natural instincts and feelings so that we can be citizens in good standing in the land of perpetual happiness. It is not for nothing that we have been dubbed the Prozac Nation.
I was knoodling on this thought recently. Whether it has been socially engineered by psychiatrists (doubtful) or the growing gaggle of lifestyle coaches, there is definitely a movement afoot that if not happy, we should take corrective measures and embark on the pursuit of happiness.
Noble though the thought may be it is such a bunch of hooey. I am not talking about people who have serious mental illnesses – although I sometimes question as to just how many are truly ill, but that is altogether a different matter. What I think is a bunch of hooey is the readiness of kith and kin – add well meaning friends and armchair professionals to that list - who, having genuflected at the alter of Oprah, Dr. Phil, and the latest life guru once too often, are now willing and able to dispense advice on how to be happy. They are like serial some things … what? Serial happiers? I know, no such word. Maybe I can coin it. Or maybe it should be serial happymakers. And if the advice does not work, well a little bit of Valerian or St. John’s Wort might do the trick. Still no joy? Get your doctor to prescribe a little something for you.
With all this stuff flying around about being happy I don’t think people know exactly what it is. Somehow we have been conditioned to think that we should be in some state of constant euphoria or enlightenment, bereft of all that is negative (because negativity makes us unhappy), and tripping the light fantastic with ripples of happy laughter lightly tripping off of our happy lips.
Resist the temptation to examine your life with microscopic detail. Am I happy? Trust me, if you have to ask yourself that question rest assured that you are not unhappy.
Enough already.
This is life. Get used to it. There is life and death, good health and bad, success and failure and all of us are faced with one of these situations, not once, not twice, but many. Friends betray us, lovers leave, partners cheat. Get over it. There is much that is good, dwell on that.
The tough parts of life build strong emotional muscles and help us deal with those times when things truly turn difficult. To unnaturally shield, protect and to avoid, breeds soft tissue of the stuff of life and develops namby pambies who cannot stand up for themselves when the situation calls for them to do so.
I think happiness is a general feeling of wellbeing. Anxiety, worry, sadness. Unless chronic and descriptive of who you are, do not make for an unhappy life. Yes, there are times when our happiness is heightened: winning, achieving, falling in love and myriad more. I think the depth of such moments is made the more precious still for having had endured at least some moments of unhappiness in our life.
Don't become a victim of the happiness gang. Live life fully. Enjoy the good, suffer the bad. On balance, you should be naturally happy.
Cheers!
No worries. The Band of Happiness will come and play for you and shake you out of your doldrums whether you want to or not.
There is an easy solution for everything. It seems that we somehow have evolved into a society that is all too eager to reach for the magic potion that lulls us into a state of wellbeing while numbing, or would that be dumbing down our natural instincts and feelings so that we can be citizens in good standing in the land of perpetual happiness. It is not for nothing that we have been dubbed the Prozac Nation.
I was knoodling on this thought recently. Whether it has been socially engineered by psychiatrists (doubtful) or the growing gaggle of lifestyle coaches, there is definitely a movement afoot that if not happy, we should take corrective measures and embark on the pursuit of happiness.
Noble though the thought may be it is such a bunch of hooey. I am not talking about people who have serious mental illnesses – although I sometimes question as to just how many are truly ill, but that is altogether a different matter. What I think is a bunch of hooey is the readiness of kith and kin – add well meaning friends and armchair professionals to that list - who, having genuflected at the alter of Oprah, Dr. Phil, and the latest life guru once too often, are now willing and able to dispense advice on how to be happy. They are like serial some things … what? Serial happiers? I know, no such word. Maybe I can coin it. Or maybe it should be serial happymakers. And if the advice does not work, well a little bit of Valerian or St. John’s Wort might do the trick. Still no joy? Get your doctor to prescribe a little something for you.
With all this stuff flying around about being happy I don’t think people know exactly what it is. Somehow we have been conditioned to think that we should be in some state of constant euphoria or enlightenment, bereft of all that is negative (because negativity makes us unhappy), and tripping the light fantastic with ripples of happy laughter lightly tripping off of our happy lips.
Resist the temptation to examine your life with microscopic detail. Am I happy? Trust me, if you have to ask yourself that question rest assured that you are not unhappy.
Enough already.
This is life. Get used to it. There is life and death, good health and bad, success and failure and all of us are faced with one of these situations, not once, not twice, but many. Friends betray us, lovers leave, partners cheat. Get over it. There is much that is good, dwell on that.
The tough parts of life build strong emotional muscles and help us deal with those times when things truly turn difficult. To unnaturally shield, protect and to avoid, breeds soft tissue of the stuff of life and develops namby pambies who cannot stand up for themselves when the situation calls for them to do so.
I think happiness is a general feeling of wellbeing. Anxiety, worry, sadness. Unless chronic and descriptive of who you are, do not make for an unhappy life. Yes, there are times when our happiness is heightened: winning, achieving, falling in love and myriad more. I think the depth of such moments is made the more precious still for having had endured at least some moments of unhappiness in our life.
Don't become a victim of the happiness gang. Live life fully. Enjoy the good, suffer the bad. On balance, you should be naturally happy.
Cheers!
Thursday, March 12, 2009
When the Rich Get Poor .... The Poor Get Destititute
Richard Adler hosts a show. It is syndicated and here in Vancouver he is broadcast on the radio station CKNW. I like Richard. I like him because he dares to call the kettle black and challenges the sensitivities of the ill informed politically correct smug as a bug army of hypocrites. I listened to his show this afternoon. It really got me thinking.
Apparently the world billionaire pool has shrunk to a mere 800, down 30% from a year ago and that is not good news because you see, it is a myth that when the rich get rich, the poor get poorer
Lets explode a myth, a long held belief that goes something like this: When the rich get rich the poor get poorer, in fact, when the rich get richer, the trickle down effect benefits everyone, yes, even the poor.
When the rich do well and increase their wealth, they are prone to spend more, travel to exotic places, buy nice cars and wear expensive clothes; they eat in the best restaurants and drink fine wine. The money they spend pays for the wages of the flight attendant, the auto worker, the factory worker, the chef and the waiter, and for those who pick the fruit off the vines that grow the grapes for the fine wine. Then, each one in turn, makes other purchases: bread from the bakery, meat from the butcher, shoes for their children, tuition for piano lessons and fees for soccer/hockey/martial arts, and perhaps a family vacation. Money circulates and there is more for everyone.
When the economy is buoyant and bellies are full, grumblings about the inequalities of life for the most part are kept under wraps. When the economy wavers the grumblings get louder; when it falters the wailing is positively ear splitting. Politicians seek such moments to make false promises of redistribution of wealth: lets take it from the rich and give it to the poor and hope to get elected on their newly found religion of equal riches for all.
Idealistic as it sounds it’s been tried before, in countries such as Russia and China, and it didn’t work. Indeed it had quite the opposit effect: everyone needed first to be equally poor before becoming equally rich, everyone that is, except for the party politic.
Lets put this equality bunk on the table for once and for all – there is none. We are not all equally smart, handsome, beautiful, talented, tall, athletic, nor powerful. No, not at all. Some are more gifted in music, some in sports, still others in sciences and maths. A rare few are very good at making money. I am glad they do.
Adler’s topic today was “We should pray for the rich to get richer” (Barstool economics) and I think you might enjoy it. Click on the transcript for a good read, or click on the audio for an even better listen.
Quick Links:
Transcript: We should pray for the rich to get richer - barstool economics
Audio: We should pray for the rick to get richer - Barstool Economics
Apparently the world billionaire pool has shrunk to a mere 800, down 30% from a year ago and that is not good news because you see, it is a myth that when the rich get rich, the poor get poorer
Lets explode a myth, a long held belief that goes something like this: When the rich get rich the poor get poorer, in fact, when the rich get richer, the trickle down effect benefits everyone, yes, even the poor.
When the rich do well and increase their wealth, they are prone to spend more, travel to exotic places, buy nice cars and wear expensive clothes; they eat in the best restaurants and drink fine wine. The money they spend pays for the wages of the flight attendant, the auto worker, the factory worker, the chef and the waiter, and for those who pick the fruit off the vines that grow the grapes for the fine wine. Then, each one in turn, makes other purchases: bread from the bakery, meat from the butcher, shoes for their children, tuition for piano lessons and fees for soccer/hockey/martial arts, and perhaps a family vacation. Money circulates and there is more for everyone.
When the economy is buoyant and bellies are full, grumblings about the inequalities of life for the most part are kept under wraps. When the economy wavers the grumblings get louder; when it falters the wailing is positively ear splitting. Politicians seek such moments to make false promises of redistribution of wealth: lets take it from the rich and give it to the poor and hope to get elected on their newly found religion of equal riches for all.
Idealistic as it sounds it’s been tried before, in countries such as Russia and China, and it didn’t work. Indeed it had quite the opposit effect: everyone needed first to be equally poor before becoming equally rich, everyone that is, except for the party politic.
Lets put this equality bunk on the table for once and for all – there is none. We are not all equally smart, handsome, beautiful, talented, tall, athletic, nor powerful. No, not at all. Some are more gifted in music, some in sports, still others in sciences and maths. A rare few are very good at making money. I am glad they do.
Adler’s topic today was “We should pray for the rich to get richer” (Barstool economics) and I think you might enjoy it. Click on the transcript for a good read, or click on the audio for an even better listen.
Quick Links:
Transcript: We should pray for the rich to get richer - barstool economics
Audio: We should pray for the rick to get richer - Barstool Economics
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Why I Drive a Japanese Car
I drive a Japanese car. It is my seventh Japanese car … in a row. My Japanese car is made in the US. I choose Japanese because it is reliable, holds its value and has staying power in styling as well as in the quality of the material used. The mileage is good and it drives well. It is both comfortable and gutsy – I like to feel the road when I drive.
The last time I was changing cars I thought I’d try American again, particularly the Ford Thunderbird. At one time it was a good car, stylish, sexy and sporty. Heads turned when a Thunderbird roared down the highways and the byways of the country. That was in the fifties. Years took its toll on this classic. It grew large and cumbersome and just plain old ugly. But hey, it was just keeping up with the trends, the direction of Detroit.
The new one that I was interested in was reintroduced a few years back- it had that retro style of the original machine and it came in colors of not just black and white, but a scorching red and a vibrant yellow. I drove into the Ford lot, parked my Prelude and walked into the showroom to take this babe for a spin around the block, down the freeway and some rough country back roads ... I did mention that I am driving my seventh Japanese car in a row.Right?
Why do I bring this up? Well yes all the controversy about the bailout of the US Auto industry may have something to do with it, or, it could be the letter that Jim Jackson of Elkinds Fordland of Michigan wrote to the editor of his local newspaper. That letter has now been published in many newspapers and has made more laps around the internet than all the cars at the Indy 500 throughout its history. Combined.
Mr. Jackson has some compelling arguments in favor of the American Auto Makers – most of his supporting data is based on the Ford Motor Company itself. Now it appears that Ford manufactures some pretty good cars --- they can be seen on the streets of Moscow where the price of one is on par with some its European competitors. But here is the thing, the Fords that the Russian billionaires, oh, ok, the millionaires - the billionaires drive Bentleys and exotics - yes, the Ford models that the Russians are driving are not seen here. They happen to be stylish and evidently worth the coin. Are these manufactured in North America? Is the Ford Motor Company saving its best for the export market? Or are these marquee cars manufactured in one of Ford’s European plants? Pity they are not here.
Mr. Jackson also mentions a few of the American cars that outperform their Japanese counterparts and he decries the perception held by the American public that being that the Big Three build inferior cars. Maybe so but two or three cars outpacing the Honda and the Camry does not an industry make.
I remember a time when Japanese cars were scorned for their poor quality, their inferior styling, but the “rust buckets” were cheap and good for a second set of wheels for the family, for mom to run the kids around when needed and to pack home the groceries. For serious driving however, such as the commute to work or the family vacation, it was the American car that held pride of place. And then a funny thing began to happen – the rust buckets began to outlast the favorite model.
It did not happen overnight. What the Japanese did well was to try and improve the quality of their car with each and every new model, in small increments. They could not go up against the “Big Three” from the get go, but by one small improvement at a time, they became a dominant player in the quality automobile market.
With the exception of the Corvette, if GM and Chrysler make quality cars then we certainly don’t know about it. Even the Cadillac has been struggling and the Lincoln, good as it might be, fades in an out of the stream of consciousness. Some of that might just be perception and you know that saying about perception being reality. But I think the truth is that in the low to mid price range of the GM and Chrysler cars, the parts used are inferior, the headlights burn out more often, the standard tires wear out quicker, the breaks need to be replaced sooner and the accessories just look plain cheap. They don’t age well and they don't hold their value well either.
Oh, why did I not get the Thunderbird? It just did not drive well. it rattled, cornered poorly, and if there was a power house of horses underneath that hood, compared to my then lowly Prelude, they seemed slow to respond. What is more telling is that I remember the salesman asking which cars I was test driving --- when I told him (they were all foreign models except for the Thunderbird), his response was simple, he said that the “bird drives differently.” I did not know what he meant exactly but could not help sensing a reluctance of sort on his part as I turned the keys in the ignition and took the babe for a drive. Yup! She shore drove differently!
The last time I was changing cars I thought I’d try American again, particularly the Ford Thunderbird. At one time it was a good car, stylish, sexy and sporty. Heads turned when a Thunderbird roared down the highways and the byways of the country. That was in the fifties. Years took its toll on this classic. It grew large and cumbersome and just plain old ugly. But hey, it was just keeping up with the trends, the direction of Detroit.
The new one that I was interested in was reintroduced a few years back- it had that retro style of the original machine and it came in colors of not just black and white, but a scorching red and a vibrant yellow. I drove into the Ford lot, parked my Prelude and walked into the showroom to take this babe for a spin around the block, down the freeway and some rough country back roads ... I did mention that I am driving my seventh Japanese car in a row.Right?
Why do I bring this up? Well yes all the controversy about the bailout of the US Auto industry may have something to do with it, or, it could be the letter that Jim Jackson of Elkinds Fordland of Michigan wrote to the editor of his local newspaper. That letter has now been published in many newspapers and has made more laps around the internet than all the cars at the Indy 500 throughout its history. Combined.
Mr. Jackson has some compelling arguments in favor of the American Auto Makers – most of his supporting data is based on the Ford Motor Company itself. Now it appears that Ford manufactures some pretty good cars --- they can be seen on the streets of Moscow where the price of one is on par with some its European competitors. But here is the thing, the Fords that the Russian billionaires, oh, ok, the millionaires - the billionaires drive Bentleys and exotics - yes, the Ford models that the Russians are driving are not seen here. They happen to be stylish and evidently worth the coin. Are these manufactured in North America? Is the Ford Motor Company saving its best for the export market? Or are these marquee cars manufactured in one of Ford’s European plants? Pity they are not here.
Mr. Jackson also mentions a few of the American cars that outperform their Japanese counterparts and he decries the perception held by the American public that being that the Big Three build inferior cars. Maybe so but two or three cars outpacing the Honda and the Camry does not an industry make.
I remember a time when Japanese cars were scorned for their poor quality, their inferior styling, but the “rust buckets” were cheap and good for a second set of wheels for the family, for mom to run the kids around when needed and to pack home the groceries. For serious driving however, such as the commute to work or the family vacation, it was the American car that held pride of place. And then a funny thing began to happen – the rust buckets began to outlast the favorite model.
It did not happen overnight. What the Japanese did well was to try and improve the quality of their car with each and every new model, in small increments. They could not go up against the “Big Three” from the get go, but by one small improvement at a time, they became a dominant player in the quality automobile market.
With the exception of the Corvette, if GM and Chrysler make quality cars then we certainly don’t know about it. Even the Cadillac has been struggling and the Lincoln, good as it might be, fades in an out of the stream of consciousness. Some of that might just be perception and you know that saying about perception being reality. But I think the truth is that in the low to mid price range of the GM and Chrysler cars, the parts used are inferior, the headlights burn out more often, the standard tires wear out quicker, the breaks need to be replaced sooner and the accessories just look plain cheap. They don’t age well and they don't hold their value well either.
Oh, why did I not get the Thunderbird? It just did not drive well. it rattled, cornered poorly, and if there was a power house of horses underneath that hood, compared to my then lowly Prelude, they seemed slow to respond. What is more telling is that I remember the salesman asking which cars I was test driving --- when I told him (they were all foreign models except for the Thunderbird), his response was simple, he said that the “bird drives differently.” I did not know what he meant exactly but could not help sensing a reluctance of sort on his part as I turned the keys in the ignition and took the babe for a drive. Yup! She shore drove differently!
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Harper Rolls Out the Welcome Mat to Obama
I don’t know whether I am sad or just plain miffed. No. I am not angry.
Let’s start with miffed … yes, you could say I am. President Obama and his entourage flew into my nation’s capital to meet with our Prime Minister, Steven Harper. This was Obama’s first trip outside the United States and I hope that our hospitality was worthy of our esteemed guest. It was a quick visit as visits go, a scant six hours, but that’s enough time for a sit down, perhaps a bite or two, a bon mot here and there, and some serious stuff to put on the table. Our media was all over the event … air waves crackling across the country reporting on this visit. Soooo…. I checked, what was the coverage like in the President’s home country? Hmmmm… I wonder, do the Americans even know that their President is out of the country? Does anyone care?
Here are some items that were considered to be more newsworthy by the media in the United States:
- Tiger Woods is going to play again … well of course that will make a difference to the state of affairs in the US
- George Clooney had something to say on Darfur … who better to quote on a poignant political issue than a movie star?
- Mortgage plan won’t help all … lets all get on the pity train for the victims of this economic fallout
- Pill could help you forget bad memories …. Whaaaaaa???? Oh yes, there was a book or something written about this being A Prozac Nation.
MSNBC made mention of “Obama, Harper Talk Economy”.
Canada is the United States’ largest trade partner. We are the next door neighbor. We share the world’s longest border. But a visit by the US President is not worth more than a cursory nod by their media.
And that makes me sad, not for Canada but for the US. How can a country so big and so powerful be so insular. I love Americans and often feel like a lone voice crying out in the wilderness defending them. I think that the US gets a bums rap. But you know, I have to say, when I travel in the US I don’t see much coverage of things outside of the US. Yes, there is CNN but its always the same old, same old. Unless the United States is somehow involved in something, rarely is there any coverage of matters of importance happening in other parts of the world.
I remember being in the US during one of the summer Olympics. Even though this was a holiday we took time to watch the events on TV. It soon became clear that the only events that were being covered were those in which the American athletes had a better than middling chance of standing on the podium. There was no mention of how other countries were doing --- and I don’t mean the small countries which may have copped only a medal or two, although that would have been a good thing to cover in the spirit of the games --- I mean the bigger ones that took home enough hardware to sink a yacht or two.
I think the American public deserves better. I think that their media should show a bit more of the world to their people … I mean I do love their national pride, but I think there would be innumerable good done if their interest of the world spilled over to other borders, and, oh hey! I think George Clooney is a hunk but he ain’t no Prime Minister and he ain’t no President and he does not represent his country in any official capacity.
Hmmm….maybe there might be some coverage on the evening news? Da ya think? Maybe?
8.58 PM... Postscript ... Finally!!!! Cooper Anderson on 360. YES!
Harper, Obama video
Let’s start with miffed … yes, you could say I am. President Obama and his entourage flew into my nation’s capital to meet with our Prime Minister, Steven Harper. This was Obama’s first trip outside the United States and I hope that our hospitality was worthy of our esteemed guest. It was a quick visit as visits go, a scant six hours, but that’s enough time for a sit down, perhaps a bite or two, a bon mot here and there, and some serious stuff to put on the table. Our media was all over the event … air waves crackling across the country reporting on this visit. Soooo…. I checked, what was the coverage like in the President’s home country? Hmmmm… I wonder, do the Americans even know that their President is out of the country? Does anyone care?
Here are some items that were considered to be more newsworthy by the media in the United States:
- Tiger Woods is going to play again … well of course that will make a difference to the state of affairs in the US
- George Clooney had something to say on Darfur … who better to quote on a poignant political issue than a movie star?
- Mortgage plan won’t help all … lets all get on the pity train for the victims of this economic fallout
- Pill could help you forget bad memories …. Whaaaaaa???? Oh yes, there was a book or something written about this being A Prozac Nation.
MSNBC made mention of “Obama, Harper Talk Economy”.
Canada is the United States’ largest trade partner. We are the next door neighbor. We share the world’s longest border. But a visit by the US President is not worth more than a cursory nod by their media.
And that makes me sad, not for Canada but for the US. How can a country so big and so powerful be so insular. I love Americans and often feel like a lone voice crying out in the wilderness defending them. I think that the US gets a bums rap. But you know, I have to say, when I travel in the US I don’t see much coverage of things outside of the US. Yes, there is CNN but its always the same old, same old. Unless the United States is somehow involved in something, rarely is there any coverage of matters of importance happening in other parts of the world.
I remember being in the US during one of the summer Olympics. Even though this was a holiday we took time to watch the events on TV. It soon became clear that the only events that were being covered were those in which the American athletes had a better than middling chance of standing on the podium. There was no mention of how other countries were doing --- and I don’t mean the small countries which may have copped only a medal or two, although that would have been a good thing to cover in the spirit of the games --- I mean the bigger ones that took home enough hardware to sink a yacht or two.
I think the American public deserves better. I think that their media should show a bit more of the world to their people … I mean I do love their national pride, but I think there would be innumerable good done if their interest of the world spilled over to other borders, and, oh hey! I think George Clooney is a hunk but he ain’t no Prime Minister and he ain’t no President and he does not represent his country in any official capacity.
Hmmm….maybe there might be some coverage on the evening news? Da ya think? Maybe?
8.58 PM... Postscript ... Finally!!!! Cooper Anderson on 360. YES!
Harper, Obama video
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Screw It, Let's Do It
I am a toastmaster. Recently I gave a speech and the opening line was “Screw It, Let’s Do It”. If you know anything about Toastmasters this would ordinarily be one of those out of bounds moments and I would have been cited for this sort of unacceptable language. But the club I belong to is not your ordinary run of the mill club, noooooo… we are an irreverent bunch, we call our club Politically Speaking and pride ourselves on banishing political correctness into the doldrums where it belongs – well you get the idea, so they merely thought I was swearing!
Actually “Screw It, Let’s Do It” is a book. The author is Richard Branson my favorite billionaire. Sir Richard lives life writ large and in this autobiographical book he does not disappoint as he treats us to an insider’s view to his many obstacles, his adventures, and to his ultimate success. His life is a magic brew worthy of Harry Potter and his cohorts. What keeps this brew from turning rancid is Branson's innate desire to make something worthwhile happen, that is to look for a way to make the seemingly impossible, possible.
Fourteen chapters in all. Each chapter a life lesson. I loved each one but if I had to pick a favorite then it would be the one to be chapter 2: Have Fun for Life is too short to be unhappy. That got me thinking. How is it or why is it that so many are content to live a life below the greatness of this gift that we were given? People complain. They complain about the lousy job they have, the rotten boss they work for, the crooked politicians they never vote for; the weather is too hot, too cold, too dry, too wet. They had an unhappy childhood and their adult life isn’t any better, wouldn’t you know it but then what else can one expect when the universe conspires against everything they do!
STOP IT! Life is too short and no one said it was going to befair.
No matter what your disposition is make a point of having some fun – every day, little bits of fun type of fun. Indulge in a little bit of decadence. Go have an ice cream cone, double scoop it – oh hey! make that a triple scoop and in a waffle cone, please. Visit your city. Huh! Yes. Play tourist, I mean really play tourist. Go to all the tourist attractions and find out what it is about them that makes them an attraction – why is the park famous, why was that statue erected, watch the martial arts students practice on the green and if there is a horse drawn carriage where you live, take a spin around the block or two and tip the horse driver handsomely. You’ll feel good.
Is there something you’ve always wanted to do and just never got off your keester? Fencing? Rowing? Dancing? Get a bunch of your friends together … not the moaners and groaners, but the ones who always seem to have a smile on their face, speak with energy in their voice, have a sense of curiosity, yeah, get together with them and go do something that will make you laugh, something silly. Isn’t that what you did when you were kids? And if you don’t have these types of friends go out and make some.
Sure the problems will still be there, maybe even some new ones, its life get over it. But having fun lifts your spirits and builds your inner strength muscles and soon – and this is a guarantee – soon you’ll be able to meet those problems head on, you’ll find a way to tackle them, you’ll go through them, around them or over them. This you will do for sure – you will live through it, come out stronger, and the world will look like a much better place than you thought it was. When you were born you were given the greatest gift of all - LIFE. Live it, love it - screw it, just do it!
Quick Links
Politically Speaking Toastmasters
Toastmasters International
Actually “Screw It, Let’s Do It” is a book. The author is Richard Branson my favorite billionaire. Sir Richard lives life writ large and in this autobiographical book he does not disappoint as he treats us to an insider’s view to his many obstacles, his adventures, and to his ultimate success. His life is a magic brew worthy of Harry Potter and his cohorts. What keeps this brew from turning rancid is Branson's innate desire to make something worthwhile happen, that is to look for a way to make the seemingly impossible, possible.
Fourteen chapters in all. Each chapter a life lesson. I loved each one but if I had to pick a favorite then it would be the one to be chapter 2: Have Fun for Life is too short to be unhappy. That got me thinking. How is it or why is it that so many are content to live a life below the greatness of this gift that we were given? People complain. They complain about the lousy job they have, the rotten boss they work for, the crooked politicians they never vote for; the weather is too hot, too cold, too dry, too wet. They had an unhappy childhood and their adult life isn’t any better, wouldn’t you know it but then what else can one expect when the universe conspires against everything they do!
STOP IT! Life is too short and no one said it was going to befair.
No matter what your disposition is make a point of having some fun – every day, little bits of fun type of fun. Indulge in a little bit of decadence. Go have an ice cream cone, double scoop it – oh hey! make that a triple scoop and in a waffle cone, please. Visit your city. Huh! Yes. Play tourist, I mean really play tourist. Go to all the tourist attractions and find out what it is about them that makes them an attraction – why is the park famous, why was that statue erected, watch the martial arts students practice on the green and if there is a horse drawn carriage where you live, take a spin around the block or two and tip the horse driver handsomely. You’ll feel good.
Is there something you’ve always wanted to do and just never got off your keester? Fencing? Rowing? Dancing? Get a bunch of your friends together … not the moaners and groaners, but the ones who always seem to have a smile on their face, speak with energy in their voice, have a sense of curiosity, yeah, get together with them and go do something that will make you laugh, something silly. Isn’t that what you did when you were kids? And if you don’t have these types of friends go out and make some.
Sure the problems will still be there, maybe even some new ones, its life get over it. But having fun lifts your spirits and builds your inner strength muscles and soon – and this is a guarantee – soon you’ll be able to meet those problems head on, you’ll find a way to tackle them, you’ll go through them, around them or over them. This you will do for sure – you will live through it, come out stronger, and the world will look like a much better place than you thought it was. When you were born you were given the greatest gift of all - LIFE. Live it, love it - screw it, just do it!
Quick Links
Politically Speaking Toastmasters
Toastmasters International
Friday, February 6, 2009
Road Warriors
Earlier this week I was driving down one of the many country roads in the area that I live. I smiled. Ahead of me was a runner. Now this is not an ordinary runner. I have driven down this road many, many times over the years and the first time I noticed this man running on the road was perhaps five, maybe six years ago. He has become a fixture on the road. I see him often.
The man is young, but his gait and something about him makes me think that he had a date with fate and the run was a mere therapeutic exercise. What is strange, to me at least, is that he still runs at the same pace, with the same small mincing type of steps, as he did when I first saw him all those years ago. His lean and muscular legs could surely cover more ground with each step, I am certain that he could even pick up the pace. In my mind’s eye view I see him running a marathon - he's a road warrior, after all! Seeing him this week got me wondering, is it his mind that has him trapped on this familiar treadmill or is it my mind that is trapped into thinking that he can do better?
Today at four o’clock I thought about this man, a road warrior of sorts - funny, I’ve never given him a name - and other images of road warriors I’ve come across flooded my mind. One of the most notable ones goes back to when I was still commuting to a day job. I would drive in on the freeway and enter the city over the Oak Street Bridge.
Typically it would be about 8.00 a.m. Every day without fail, was this young man, suited for work, earplugs in his ears attached to I gather a Walkman (in those days the ipod was a mere twinkle in Job’s eye, if that). He was Asian and, I surmised, on his way to work. I imagined that he worked for one of the hotels that were clustered on either side of the freeway just as the bridge ended – certainly there were no other types of businesses that would require one to dress in a suit.
He was a joy to watch. Listening to the music from his Walkman, he would be singing along with whatever it was that was playing, but he did more, his walk was more like a dance of a sort. His arms flailed and he punched into the air. Everyone driving gawked at him, but he didn’t care, and soon no one else did either, they just smiled. He became a fixture and I looked forward to seeing him. Somehow the sight of someone so energized gave me a lift and I too looked forward to the day. I wonder where this road warrior is these days. Perhaps managing a 5 star hotel or speaking in front of thousands as a motivational speaker?
Then there is the iconic image of a young man, hopping along on one good leg and on one that is a prosthesis. The ultimate road warrior. I speak of course of young Terry Fox who embarked on a cross Canada run to raise awareness of cancer. He never made it. The disease he was fighting took him before he could complete the run. Today there are Terry Fox Runs for Cancer all over Canada and each year millions of dollars are raised for cancer research. Ironically, with the advancements that medical scientists have made in this disease, had Terry lived today, he would have completed that run.
I wonder how many other road warriors there are out there? Is there someone you see on the road? Often? Is there something that sets them apart from others on the road? Have you wondered what they might be running for? Is that road warrior you?
quick links
Terry Fox - Marathon of Hope
The man is young, but his gait and something about him makes me think that he had a date with fate and the run was a mere therapeutic exercise. What is strange, to me at least, is that he still runs at the same pace, with the same small mincing type of steps, as he did when I first saw him all those years ago. His lean and muscular legs could surely cover more ground with each step, I am certain that he could even pick up the pace. In my mind’s eye view I see him running a marathon - he's a road warrior, after all! Seeing him this week got me wondering, is it his mind that has him trapped on this familiar treadmill or is it my mind that is trapped into thinking that he can do better?
Today at four o’clock I thought about this man, a road warrior of sorts - funny, I’ve never given him a name - and other images of road warriors I’ve come across flooded my mind. One of the most notable ones goes back to when I was still commuting to a day job. I would drive in on the freeway and enter the city over the Oak Street Bridge.
Typically it would be about 8.00 a.m. Every day without fail, was this young man, suited for work, earplugs in his ears attached to I gather a Walkman (in those days the ipod was a mere twinkle in Job’s eye, if that). He was Asian and, I surmised, on his way to work. I imagined that he worked for one of the hotels that were clustered on either side of the freeway just as the bridge ended – certainly there were no other types of businesses that would require one to dress in a suit.
He was a joy to watch. Listening to the music from his Walkman, he would be singing along with whatever it was that was playing, but he did more, his walk was more like a dance of a sort. His arms flailed and he punched into the air. Everyone driving gawked at him, but he didn’t care, and soon no one else did either, they just smiled. He became a fixture and I looked forward to seeing him. Somehow the sight of someone so energized gave me a lift and I too looked forward to the day. I wonder where this road warrior is these days. Perhaps managing a 5 star hotel or speaking in front of thousands as a motivational speaker?
Then there is the iconic image of a young man, hopping along on one good leg and on one that is a prosthesis. The ultimate road warrior. I speak of course of young Terry Fox who embarked on a cross Canada run to raise awareness of cancer. He never made it. The disease he was fighting took him before he could complete the run. Today there are Terry Fox Runs for Cancer all over Canada and each year millions of dollars are raised for cancer research. Ironically, with the advancements that medical scientists have made in this disease, had Terry lived today, he would have completed that run.
I wonder how many other road warriors there are out there? Is there someone you see on the road? Often? Is there something that sets them apart from others on the road? Have you wondered what they might be running for? Is that road warrior you?
quick links
Terry Fox - Marathon of Hope
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Marshmallow People
The world economy limped into the new year on crutches; battered and bruised from mismanagement, greed, and plain outright theft. The media keeps churning out the bad news and it seems that everyone is jumping onto the blame game wagon. Fingers are pointing left, right and center. The government made bad decisions. The banks mismanaged their funds. The Auto industry was too arrogant. Wall street is too greedy. And the litany continues. The armchair pundits are now expert and have the solution to every little and not so little problem of the world.
But you know, the more I think it about it, the more I think we should be looking elsewhere, as the saying goes, we have found the enemy, and the enemy is us. When personal debt is at an all time high, our credit cards maxed out, our homes being foreclosed upon ... ultimately, the responsibility is our own. Ease of credit does not mean irresponsible use of it, and irresponsible use of credit my friends is what has got us into hock.
When is it that we began to shed ourselves off of prudence and good fiscal management; of kindness and courtesy; of expectations of ourselves and responsibility? When? Was it when looking out for number one came to mean selfishness and self promotion? Was it when we took out yet another credit card to pay for the last one? Was it when we stopped holding ourselves accountable, not to someone else, but to ourselves? Or did we get "ourselves" into such a state of myopia that we could no longer see that which was before us --- a slow deterioration of a society? We have become marshmallow people, you know, all soft and pudgy and no backbone save the skewer that will roast us over the fire. We are feeling that fire now.
Let the governments do what needs to be done. Let us do what we need to do. Financial ups and downs will always be there. They are not always of our making. But if we manage our lives better, chances are the world will be governed better too. The buck does not stop at the threshold of the Prime Minister or the President, it stops on your threshold and mine.
But you know, the more I think it about it, the more I think we should be looking elsewhere, as the saying goes, we have found the enemy, and the enemy is us. When personal debt is at an all time high, our credit cards maxed out, our homes being foreclosed upon ... ultimately, the responsibility is our own. Ease of credit does not mean irresponsible use of it, and irresponsible use of credit my friends is what has got us into hock.
When is it that we began to shed ourselves off of prudence and good fiscal management; of kindness and courtesy; of expectations of ourselves and responsibility? When? Was it when looking out for number one came to mean selfishness and self promotion? Was it when we took out yet another credit card to pay for the last one? Was it when we stopped holding ourselves accountable, not to someone else, but to ourselves? Or did we get "ourselves" into such a state of myopia that we could no longer see that which was before us --- a slow deterioration of a society? We have become marshmallow people, you know, all soft and pudgy and no backbone save the skewer that will roast us over the fire. We are feeling that fire now.
Let the governments do what needs to be done. Let us do what we need to do. Financial ups and downs will always be there. They are not always of our making. But if we manage our lives better, chances are the world will be governed better too. The buck does not stop at the threshold of the Prime Minister or the President, it stops on your threshold and mine.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Birds of a Feather
Whoosh! Busy morning! And afternoon!
Took a mini 5-day vacation --- now I don’t know about you, but whenever I take an impromptu time off, I find that when I come back I have lots of bits and pieces to get done. That’s what this morning was about, errands.
The actual number of errands was not all that many; it’s just that the distances between them took up the morning and a good part of the afternoon. I am not complaining though. I take the opportunity whilst driving to listen to good music, tune in to a radio talk show, or … just think. Driving affords me uninterrupted personal enjoyment in my own private theatre: the car.
In no particular order, today so far:
The Miracle on the Hudson: Birds seemed to have factored prominently today. First on the news, a US Airlines flight that had an ummm… midair collision with a flock of birds on take off. The birds got sucked up by the engines – this happens with annoying regularity – and this disabled both of the engines rendering the aircraft engineless. The pilot did an admirable job of guiding the aircraft over the Hudson River and safely landing it, with all 155 passengers and crew reported safe.
Ordinarily a lone small bird causes little to no trouble, but this was a whole flock of them and they were no ordinary birds either, oh noooooooo … they were Canada Geese, arguably one of the largest of flight birds we know. Now its time these birds got some smarts. They would be better off if they stopped hanging around airports, and what are they doing in New York in the cold of winter anyway? By now they should have all migrated to warmer climates, well at least to Florida where they could be enjoying the life of riley on the golf courses … oh, they’re not welcome there either?
Swan Lake: Also today, one hundred and fourteen years ago, Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake premiered in St. Petersburg. Let’s see, that would have made it January 15, 1894! I heard this on the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation FM Radio – CBC, and got to hear a portion of that composition. Alas, the ballet had to be imagined. But I love Swan Lake. I was introduced to this ballet whilst still a young girl living in Japan. One of my dad’s business associates who lived in the country loved ballet so much that every time there was a performance by an acclaimed troupe, he would take the full day train ride from Bessho Onsen to Yokohama so that he could attend. He always stayed with us. I always got to attend the ballets. The iconic Swan Lake was my introduction this beautiful form of dance.
Eagles: Much of the area that I live in is surrounded by farmland; it is also on the migratory path for many birds. Yes, we have lots of Canada Geese here, but to be honest they have become a permanent fixture because of the mild (usually)winter climate, they do rather well hanging out on farmland, the many parks that we have, and the odd bird sanctuary . They have no shame and will accost you if they think there might be some grain in the palm of your hand or in your coat pocket. Truly, they are shameless, like a band of bandits.
But today I saw eagles. Bald Headed eagles. Lots of them.
Once again it is not unusual to see eagles here, but today the sightings were so many that I began to count them. They were mostly perched on leafless trees alongside the bi-ways on which I drove today. They were easy to spot. Sometimes two or three to a tree, at other times a single bird watched the passing parade of cars beneath. I don’t know what it is about eagles. They are so regal and I get an inexplicable sort of feeling whenever I see one. The feeling is a mixture of wonderment, humbleness and promise. Can’t explain it --- its just a feeling that comes over me. The First Nations believe that an eagle sighting is a good omen. Today, I got good omens in spades!
Yup! It’s going to be a good year!
Quicklinks:
Miracle on the Hudson<
Reifel Bird Sanctuary
Swan Lake - Kirov Ballet 12 minutes
Swan Lake - Bolshoi Ballet 2 minutes.
Bald Eagles
Took a mini 5-day vacation --- now I don’t know about you, but whenever I take an impromptu time off, I find that when I come back I have lots of bits and pieces to get done. That’s what this morning was about, errands.
The actual number of errands was not all that many; it’s just that the distances between them took up the morning and a good part of the afternoon. I am not complaining though. I take the opportunity whilst driving to listen to good music, tune in to a radio talk show, or … just think. Driving affords me uninterrupted personal enjoyment in my own private theatre: the car.
In no particular order, today so far:
The Miracle on the Hudson: Birds seemed to have factored prominently today. First on the news, a US Airlines flight that had an ummm… midair collision with a flock of birds on take off. The birds got sucked up by the engines – this happens with annoying regularity – and this disabled both of the engines rendering the aircraft engineless. The pilot did an admirable job of guiding the aircraft over the Hudson River and safely landing it, with all 155 passengers and crew reported safe.
Ordinarily a lone small bird causes little to no trouble, but this was a whole flock of them and they were no ordinary birds either, oh noooooooo … they were Canada Geese, arguably one of the largest of flight birds we know. Now its time these birds got some smarts. They would be better off if they stopped hanging around airports, and what are they doing in New York in the cold of winter anyway? By now they should have all migrated to warmer climates, well at least to Florida where they could be enjoying the life of riley on the golf courses … oh, they’re not welcome there either?
Swan Lake: Also today, one hundred and fourteen years ago, Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake premiered in St. Petersburg. Let’s see, that would have made it January 15, 1894! I heard this on the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation FM Radio – CBC, and got to hear a portion of that composition. Alas, the ballet had to be imagined. But I love Swan Lake. I was introduced to this ballet whilst still a young girl living in Japan. One of my dad’s business associates who lived in the country loved ballet so much that every time there was a performance by an acclaimed troupe, he would take the full day train ride from Bessho Onsen to Yokohama so that he could attend. He always stayed with us. I always got to attend the ballets. The iconic Swan Lake was my introduction this beautiful form of dance.
Eagles: Much of the area that I live in is surrounded by farmland; it is also on the migratory path for many birds. Yes, we have lots of Canada Geese here, but to be honest they have become a permanent fixture because of the mild (usually)winter climate, they do rather well hanging out on farmland, the many parks that we have, and the odd bird sanctuary . They have no shame and will accost you if they think there might be some grain in the palm of your hand or in your coat pocket. Truly, they are shameless, like a band of bandits.
But today I saw eagles. Bald Headed eagles. Lots of them.
Once again it is not unusual to see eagles here, but today the sightings were so many that I began to count them. They were mostly perched on leafless trees alongside the bi-ways on which I drove today. They were easy to spot. Sometimes two or three to a tree, at other times a single bird watched the passing parade of cars beneath. I don’t know what it is about eagles. They are so regal and I get an inexplicable sort of feeling whenever I see one. The feeling is a mixture of wonderment, humbleness and promise. Can’t explain it --- its just a feeling that comes over me. The First Nations believe that an eagle sighting is a good omen. Today, I got good omens in spades!
Yup! It’s going to be a good year!
Quicklinks:
Miracle on the Hudson<
Reifel Bird Sanctuary
Swan Lake - Kirov Ballet 12 minutes
Swan Lake - Bolshoi Ballet 2 minutes.
Bald Eagles
Thursday, January 8, 2009
The Ness and Mess of Things
Today at four o'clock I was with a friend at the local Blenz Cafe. Cheryll and I decided that we would get together once a week at a cafe with WII FI and work on our computers. Its kind of a buddy system. It would have been the opportune time for me to blog here, but we ended up doing some technical type of stuff instead ... she has a much better grasp of webmastering and helped me with a few things I needed fixed on one of my sites.
I did get back on the computer when I got home though and funnily enough a muddle of thoughts flooded in. They were muddled because they really have nothing to do with each other, yet there they were, residing side by side in my brain. One of the thoughts I had muddled over before, many times; the other while not terribly original was awakened to my conscienceness by a newsletter I received from a friend. The dueling duo are ness and mess --- well at least they rhyme.
Mess you know, we all experience some at some point or another. We have a mess on the table, a mess in the room, a mess of some sort in our life. My friend Linda wrote that to live a life of richness, we need to deal with the messes in our lives. She recommended that we handle each mess one at a time and we need not be overly ambitious with any time frames as certain types of messes take longer to clean up than others.
I took her missive to heart, looked around my surroundings and decided that yes, I could certainly do with less mess. It was an easy decision. Job one: clean my desk. When I work I like to have my notes, my reference material, my books and files at my finger tips. Although I try to keep things sorted by some indescribable logic the reality is that it all gets jumbled and soon the desk is a mess. I decided to clean it all up --- put away the books, the magazines, the files and other material in their rightful places. It was surprising how much of the "reference material" was no such thing and quickly made its way to the recycling bin.
I work in blocks of time, each block dedicated to a different project so depending on the project, I now bring out the appropriate material, putting it away at the end of the block. I have been at it for a week now. Its been rough going but I am beginning to like the tidy appearance of my desk so much more and have rediscovered the beauty of mahogany. They say it takes 21 days to form a new habit ... methinks this one will take a tad longer and yet, and yet ... I somehow find that an uncluttered desk does indeed promote an uncluttered mind. There is hope.
Now to the ness of things --- aaaahhh, this is a somewhat more complicated thought. And what the heck is a "ness" you say. Well, it came to me many years ago in one of those discussion groups that tilt towards the philosophical, or at least the pretense of being so. Actually, I rather enjoyed those discussions as we dined on controversy the way a gourmet dines on caviar --- both are exhilirating.
...and then I asked at what point do we lose our ness? Eyes turned on me in puzzlement. I explored this new thought that just came to me explaining that while I have lived most of my life in Canada, was born and raised in Japan, I still felt a very strong tie to my ancestry, my Russianness, if you will. At that point I had never been to Russia, yet, somehow, I still felt very connected; culturally, physcially and spiritually. I could not even speak the language very well, you know kids type of patois. Yet there it was, the ness of being Russian.
Others picked up on my thought. Someone brought up President Kennedy who was one of the most iconic of American presidents, was third generation American at the very least, fought in WWII for the United States, yet was often referenced to his Irish roots, and indeed, there was a certain Irishness to the man.
I don't know, I think that the ness stays with us, becomes deep rooted in our psyche and informs us as to who we are. Its sort of like in our DNA. So, if we were able to dig deep down, I mean waaaay deep down into ourselves, whom might we discover ourselves to be? I think that the more appropriate question would be at what point does one ness overtake the last one?
...oh if at the Blenz Cafe, order their hot apple cider, does wonders for the soul on a blustery winter afternoon!
I did get back on the computer when I got home though and funnily enough a muddle of thoughts flooded in. They were muddled because they really have nothing to do with each other, yet there they were, residing side by side in my brain. One of the thoughts I had muddled over before, many times; the other while not terribly original was awakened to my conscienceness by a newsletter I received from a friend. The dueling duo are ness and mess --- well at least they rhyme.
Mess you know, we all experience some at some point or another. We have a mess on the table, a mess in the room, a mess of some sort in our life. My friend Linda wrote that to live a life of richness, we need to deal with the messes in our lives. She recommended that we handle each mess one at a time and we need not be overly ambitious with any time frames as certain types of messes take longer to clean up than others.
I took her missive to heart, looked around my surroundings and decided that yes, I could certainly do with less mess. It was an easy decision. Job one: clean my desk. When I work I like to have my notes, my reference material, my books and files at my finger tips. Although I try to keep things sorted by some indescribable logic the reality is that it all gets jumbled and soon the desk is a mess. I decided to clean it all up --- put away the books, the magazines, the files and other material in their rightful places. It was surprising how much of the "reference material" was no such thing and quickly made its way to the recycling bin.
I work in blocks of time, each block dedicated to a different project so depending on the project, I now bring out the appropriate material, putting it away at the end of the block. I have been at it for a week now. Its been rough going but I am beginning to like the tidy appearance of my desk so much more and have rediscovered the beauty of mahogany. They say it takes 21 days to form a new habit ... methinks this one will take a tad longer and yet, and yet ... I somehow find that an uncluttered desk does indeed promote an uncluttered mind. There is hope.
Now to the ness of things --- aaaahhh, this is a somewhat more complicated thought. And what the heck is a "ness" you say. Well, it came to me many years ago in one of those discussion groups that tilt towards the philosophical, or at least the pretense of being so. Actually, I rather enjoyed those discussions as we dined on controversy the way a gourmet dines on caviar --- both are exhilirating.
...and then I asked at what point do we lose our ness? Eyes turned on me in puzzlement. I explored this new thought that just came to me explaining that while I have lived most of my life in Canada, was born and raised in Japan, I still felt a very strong tie to my ancestry, my Russianness, if you will. At that point I had never been to Russia, yet, somehow, I still felt very connected; culturally, physcially and spiritually. I could not even speak the language very well, you know kids type of patois. Yet there it was, the ness of being Russian.
Others picked up on my thought. Someone brought up President Kennedy who was one of the most iconic of American presidents, was third generation American at the very least, fought in WWII for the United States, yet was often referenced to his Irish roots, and indeed, there was a certain Irishness to the man.
I don't know, I think that the ness stays with us, becomes deep rooted in our psyche and informs us as to who we are. Its sort of like in our DNA. So, if we were able to dig deep down, I mean waaaay deep down into ourselves, whom might we discover ourselves to be? I think that the more appropriate question would be at what point does one ness overtake the last one?
...oh if at the Blenz Cafe, order their hot apple cider, does wonders for the soul on a blustery winter afternoon!
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Mental Meanderings on the First Day of 2009
Whether you raucously celebrated the night away or quietly met the first seconds of 2009 with a hearty toast in the company of a small party of eight, six or one: HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Mine was more like the latter. Even the toast was with a nice Shiraz from Argentina rather than a bubbly and it worked just fine with a feast of a dish I simply know as Backalar .. . at least that is what it sounds like. It is a traditional dish of countries on the Adriatic Coast and my husband made it. He learned how to make it from his father. It was delish!
Today was a rather quiet day. No, no Polar Swim for me, did not even go to cheer on the foolhardy. The morning was magical as big snow flakes came swirling down. Dawn had not broken yet, so the white against the dark was nothing short of spectacular. I thought I would wait till the darkness faded and go for an early morning walk and take some photos of this first day of the year 2009. No sooner had I finished my coffee than the snow turned to rain, and then the rain stopped and it just turned out to be a grissly gray day. Better suited for reading by the fireside … or just thinking.
Of course, I got to thinking about what 2009 might hold for us? If only we could gaze into the crystal ball and see what’s in store … or do we really want to look into the future? What would we do differently if we knew? Or, if knowing, would we even put out the effort? Would we perhaps just say that we are powerless? Would it kill our innate will to survive, stifle our ambitions, or dispel our dreams? Perhaps. Thoughts to ponder on this first day of a brand new year.
In a few weeks our neighbors to the south will be swearing in a new president who ran a campaign on CHANGE. I think that is admirable but my fear is that those who voted for Mr. Obama will expect miracles of a man who has taken on an enormous responsibility for a great nation and give little thought to applying it to themselves. I think we should.
If there was just one thing I could wish for as change, it would be that we as human beings begin to take responsibility for ourselves. I think that much of what is wrong with the world today is this sense of entitlement that we somehow developed, particularly in what we term as the First World and specifically in North America.
When my parents and their parents were growing up, there were no financial safety nets. Life was tough. I think of my parents living in Japan during WWII and the post war years that followed. Those were very difficult times. They had to make their own way to survive. Dad lost his business during the war and it took all of my and my sibling’s growing up years for him to rebuild it. I think of my grandparents having to leave all behind in Russia when the communists took over. They too had to make their own way to survive. My grandfather had to start a new life for himself and his family in China, a country that was culturally strange and a language that was foreign to him.
Neither my parents nor grandparents looked for a handout. They never felt that anyone should look after them, that anyone owed them anything at all: not a living, not a job, not a business. They faced and picked up the gauntlet that was responsibility writ large and worked to put food on the table, to clothe and provide shelter. There were no countries for them to flee to as refugees, there were no governments giving them any money or helping them to integrate into a new society. There was just themselves.
We were taught early on that life did not come with rights or privileges. In both my grandparent’ and parent’s cases they had to take responsibility for their own life because if they did not take that responsibility they would not have had a life. I think that most of us, if we think of our parents and grandparents, will have had a background which if not similar, has at least the ring of familiarity. So when is it that we became a nation of marshmallow people? You know, soft, with no backbone?
There are some things that are beyond the scope of one individual to change: one individual cannot change the financial crisis; one individual cannot stop the many wars that are being fought today (46 at last count); nor can one individual solve the global warming crisis. But if every individual begins to live with a sense of responsibility rather than entitlement, great changes will be brought about. What if each would but choose to take responsibility for our own financial wellbeing? What if we decide to build bridges instead of walls in our own personal relationships? What if we choose to use products that are earth friendly? This we can do.
A butterfly in the Amazon Jungle moves its wings and sets off a ripple effect in the earth's atmosphere. The reverberations created and set in motion by that one small, seemingly insignificant act, are witnessed as storms and typhoons in Asia. Let us each be a butterfly.
2009 … a year to rebuild, to strengthen and to create change.
Mine was more like the latter. Even the toast was with a nice Shiraz from Argentina rather than a bubbly and it worked just fine with a feast of a dish I simply know as Backalar .. . at least that is what it sounds like. It is a traditional dish of countries on the Adriatic Coast and my husband made it. He learned how to make it from his father. It was delish!
Today was a rather quiet day. No, no Polar Swim for me, did not even go to cheer on the foolhardy. The morning was magical as big snow flakes came swirling down. Dawn had not broken yet, so the white against the dark was nothing short of spectacular. I thought I would wait till the darkness faded and go for an early morning walk and take some photos of this first day of the year 2009. No sooner had I finished my coffee than the snow turned to rain, and then the rain stopped and it just turned out to be a grissly gray day. Better suited for reading by the fireside … or just thinking.
Of course, I got to thinking about what 2009 might hold for us? If only we could gaze into the crystal ball and see what’s in store … or do we really want to look into the future? What would we do differently if we knew? Or, if knowing, would we even put out the effort? Would we perhaps just say that we are powerless? Would it kill our innate will to survive, stifle our ambitions, or dispel our dreams? Perhaps. Thoughts to ponder on this first day of a brand new year.
In a few weeks our neighbors to the south will be swearing in a new president who ran a campaign on CHANGE. I think that is admirable but my fear is that those who voted for Mr. Obama will expect miracles of a man who has taken on an enormous responsibility for a great nation and give little thought to applying it to themselves. I think we should.
If there was just one thing I could wish for as change, it would be that we as human beings begin to take responsibility for ourselves. I think that much of what is wrong with the world today is this sense of entitlement that we somehow developed, particularly in what we term as the First World and specifically in North America.
When my parents and their parents were growing up, there were no financial safety nets. Life was tough. I think of my parents living in Japan during WWII and the post war years that followed. Those were very difficult times. They had to make their own way to survive. Dad lost his business during the war and it took all of my and my sibling’s growing up years for him to rebuild it. I think of my grandparents having to leave all behind in Russia when the communists took over. They too had to make their own way to survive. My grandfather had to start a new life for himself and his family in China, a country that was culturally strange and a language that was foreign to him.
Neither my parents nor grandparents looked for a handout. They never felt that anyone should look after them, that anyone owed them anything at all: not a living, not a job, not a business. They faced and picked up the gauntlet that was responsibility writ large and worked to put food on the table, to clothe and provide shelter. There were no countries for them to flee to as refugees, there were no governments giving them any money or helping them to integrate into a new society. There was just themselves.
We were taught early on that life did not come with rights or privileges. In both my grandparent’ and parent’s cases they had to take responsibility for their own life because if they did not take that responsibility they would not have had a life. I think that most of us, if we think of our parents and grandparents, will have had a background which if not similar, has at least the ring of familiarity. So when is it that we became a nation of marshmallow people? You know, soft, with no backbone?
There are some things that are beyond the scope of one individual to change: one individual cannot change the financial crisis; one individual cannot stop the many wars that are being fought today (46 at last count); nor can one individual solve the global warming crisis. But if every individual begins to live with a sense of responsibility rather than entitlement, great changes will be brought about. What if each would but choose to take responsibility for our own financial wellbeing? What if we decide to build bridges instead of walls in our own personal relationships? What if we choose to use products that are earth friendly? This we can do.
A butterfly in the Amazon Jungle moves its wings and sets off a ripple effect in the earth's atmosphere. The reverberations created and set in motion by that one small, seemingly insignificant act, are witnessed as storms and typhoons in Asia. Let us each be a butterfly.
2009 … a year to rebuild, to strengthen and to create change.
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