A lesson of unintended consequences.

Time, the final frontier.  Time is a device used to give order to events, it is a means of measuring duration. It gives added meaning to certain accomplishments, a forty yard dash is not so impressive if it takes 25 minutes, maybe it isn't a dash at all. Beyond that, time has become an integral part of life, it has permeated society to an extent that is a little exasperating.

Myself, I need a watch, I have to wear one or my day is ruined.  It will be a wasted day of looking at

a wrist, wondering how much time has passed since I last glanced at my naked, lonely, wrist. I need to know what time it is, and I don't know why. Time is a tool, an addiction, and it can be a weapon.

For a time I managed a small production department in a small company. One of my employees was an older lady from West Virginia, Mary Maxine. She had been there a long time, had a profound understanding of her job, was stable, steady, and productive, and had a mistrust of management that bordered on paranoia.

We developed a working relationship based on mutual suspicion. She was sure I was trying to get her to work harder without paying her more, and I was sure she could probably work harder. But, she had been there a long time, supervisors had come and gone and she had seen her share of crap, brother, she could tell you. And if you thought she was going to let some kid tell her to speed up, well then you had another think coming. Thinking the first time is not all that pleasant, and I avoid conflict so we just acted like we were both happy.

Then one day the unthinkable happened, the plant manager told me the parent company was sending a time management specialist to study procedures and practices. Since Maxine was the most senior employee in my little department she was the target. It was my curse as a manager to tell her.

"He is not here to make you go faster, he just wants to see if they are charging enough, and if we can do anything to make your job easier. They are going to study every job, in every department." I tried to explain.

Her husband was suffering from a coal mining related ailment. they had been shuttled from doctor to clinic to nurse practicioner without resolution. The company who had employed him would not take his calls after promising to take care of things. They were living on a meager disability income and her wages. You could watch her deflate when I told her, shoulders slumping forward, head drooping, the weight was unbearable. She almost cried, thinking this was a trap. I almost cried looking at her holding back the tears.

It was only two hours, a little man with a yellow shirt, a brown knit tie (fashionable at the time) and brown synthetic pants carried a clipboard, a stop watch and several pencils followed Maxine around, noting movement, steps. She was trying to hurry without much luck, the shaking and worrying, and fear was an anchor, holding her down. She was never fast, but now she seemed to be working in thick mud.

He finished his work, thanked her for her help, and moved on without saying anything to me. She came into my cluttered, dusty office and asked if he should take the rest of the day off.

"Yes, I will see you tomorrow." She was so shaken, it seemed possible to me she would not come back, ever. We had quite a few people not come back from lunch, just leave and never return. She needed the money, so she came back the next day and asked what he said.

"Nothing," She didn't believe me, but I never heard anything. Weeks went by and Mary Maxine returned to her normal, suspicious, combative self. Our working relationship returned to a low level battle of wills, which normally ended in her favor.

Weeks later and there was still no word. Much ado about nothing. To a short, round grandma hiding behind thick lenses and gaudy, rhinestone covered frames, from West Virginia who was forced to face an innocent, nameless, corporate terror she couldn't understand it was awful.

I think about Mary Maxine occasionally, we weren't close, we weren't friends, but we were coworkers. In a way we took care of each other, and that was good enough.

College Football, Post Season, the Real Season.

Since football season is almost over it is time to examine the many changes that have set the world of college football.  There are momentous changes, and long lasting implication, it is a brave new world.  "If you do not change direction you may end up where you are heading."  Lao Tzu

This is the first year of the NCAA playoffs, with coaches, players and fans openly campaigning for their team.  It is a wonderfully shameless political campaign of trumpeting achievements and shouting the relative merits of a group of young athletes from the top of every mountain, and virtual, online soapbox.  It is nothing new, it has happened since the beginning of crowning a National Champion, (it is only more pronounced by the addition of a playoff) and it will last until the end of the sport.  Which, considering the recent collision with the courts and the NCAA's decision to allow the "power conferences" to make the monetary decisions regarding the benefits allocated to athletes will probably be much sooner than later.  It has been a good run, though.  So long, Mountain West, and MAC, we hardly knew ye.

But, all of this pales when compared to the conference expansion.  It started a while ago, maybe it was the Big Ten welcoming Penn State into the Old Boys network.  Officials from around the country watched, and waited.  What would be the fallout from an eleven team Big Ten Conference, not surprisingly, when the relative importance of the decision is considered, nobody really cared too much.

And the grab was on, conferences were grabbing teams in a Black Friday style dash for that glorious twelfth team that would allow for a conference championship game, almost a license to print money. A sponsored, endorsed, advertising intensive extravaganza of indulgence, and excess, a day long celebration of capitalism disguised as sports.  Executives and officials exchanging huge sums of cash.  Sports, they may not build character, but they will build fortunes, and fame, and several new campus facilities.   At least they would if universities weren't so busy throwing money at athletics.

This weekend was "Rivalry Weekend."  Kind of a self explanatory, but, it was a feast for advertisers, and fans alike.  Rivalries wax and wane with the fortunes of the participants, but can still be compelling television.

Yesterday, during one of the rivalry games, an ancient, august, game with a revered history, some brazen, fearless soul proposed to one of the cheerleaders, a beautiful young lady, with a dazzling smile.  And the entire romantic, private, touching moment was played out in the end zone, on televisions across the nation, and probably in armed forces bases around the world.  It was fantastic television, and automobile companies, brewers, and soft drink manufacturers are scrambling to find the next potential proposer to get their cut of the action.  Please contact a talent agent, and they can negotiate the terms of your proposal.  Everybody would profit.

Coffee, Our Light Against the Gathering Darkness #hotdrinkday

Coffee, the nectar of the gods, the staff of life. For years the world has been enjoying the fruits of the coffee plant. It has become endemic, a part of culture, a ritual involving friends, couples, co-workers, acquaintances, total strangers, all coming together enjoy the rich, dark roasted beans, ground to varying degrees of perfection, and brewed into a cup of delightful, caffeinated, heavenly elixir. And now, this wonderful, life giving drink is under attack from tea drinkers, across the Atlantic, I guess we always knew it would end up this way, didn't we? With the British attacking one of our greatest institutions, again.*

I have a friend, who lives in Ireland, but she used to live in Germany, after she lived in Scotland, that is, but before Scotland she lived in London, I think, any none of that matters, what is important, she has had the opportunity to sample many nations, including tea, in the United Kingdom, which she enjoyed, quite a bit, but the drink of which she spoke most glowingly, Italian Coffee. She spoke, fondly of the pleasant aroma, the dark, rich colors, and the exquisite taste as she sipped from her demitasse, in the ancient heart of the Roman Empire, a moving, historic experience, brought to you by coffee.

Opening a fresh can, and the aroma feels the kitchen, the entire house with a fragrance, powerful, and intoxicating. Even people who don't drink coffee (and here I am thinking of my wife, who enjoys Diet Coke) have to admit it is the most pleasant of aromas. When you put it in a basket, press, or filter and run hot water over it, the aroma becomes almost magical, almost terrifying in its power. It draws the weary, it calls to the faithful, it is a morning ceremony, an afternoon reward, and an evening libation. Coffee, all things to all people.

In my house there is a coffee maker that has a normal pot, and a single serve "K-Cup" brewer. No matter what taste you are in the mood for, one cup, or twelve, it takes in the raw ingredients, and dispenses them, hot, delicious, and ready to please. It is an ingenious machine designed, manufactured and distributed the Hamilton Beach™ company, true giants of innovation (#lifeexplainedJ is still looking for corporate sponsorship if anybody from the Hamilton Beach Co. happens across this post, and I love your coffee maker, and coffee).

 Plus, I have a coffee grinder, (also a Hamilton Beach™… Ok I just made that up, I don't know what brand it is™, but it could be a Hamilton Beach®) and a "French Press" in case the desire for something a little different strikes. Unfortunately, I still have not figured out how to use the French Press the desire needs to be a gritty cup of very strong coffee, but hope springs eternal in the world of coffee drinkers.

Take a stroll down the coffee aisle at the local grocery store. French roast, Italian roast, Sumatran, Arabian, Columbian, Hawaiian, Java, that is not counting Russian coffee, Irish coffee, (trust me, the list goes on almost without end) coffee is like the United Nations of hot drinks. Coffee could bring the world together, one cup at a time. Imagine if we stopped bickering, sat down and shared a cup of coffee, things always look better when viewed through the steam rising from a fresh cup of coffee.

Not in the mood for a traditional "cup o' joe," though, as is obvious from the earlier paragraphs there is no single, traditional, cup of coffee, no worries, my friend. Just grab an iced, caramel macchiato, or a chocolate mocha, or if the time of year is right, wrap your coffee lovin' mitts around a pumpkin spice, or a peppermint, latte. Coffee, the morning drink that, when prepared properly, provides a day's worth of calories.

Coffee is a drink that has served the armed services, the Hollywood elite, the Wall Street, and Main Street. Coffee is a versatile drink, it helps make you alert, or calm you down, depending on your needs. It has a taste that is indescribable, and diverse. It brings people together, fosters and nourishes ideas, and provides nourishment, and sustenance, to the mind and the soul. "Coffee is the number one drink in the world, everybody drinks it, even little kids in Mexico drink coffee… it is the lifeblood that drives the dream of champions." Iron Mike Ditka in Kicking and Screaming. That is Super Bowl Champion Coach Iron Mike Ditka, what other proof do you need?

For the Defense of Tea, please read the fantastically entertaining Blog of Thog, a writer without compare, and a tea drinker +Mike Raven!

*Just kidding, I love the British, the Welsh, the Scottish (mmm, Scotch Whisky) all of the United Kingdom. I had no part in throwing the tea in the harbor.
** I know, it was from the movie "Kicking and Screaming" but I never let a little fiction stand in the way of making a point, and as far as any of us know, that is exactly how Iron Mike feels, who wants to question a guy with nickname "Iron Mike?"

 

 

A Revolution of the Well Off.

Long assumed to be the silent minority, the wealthy have started to be a more vocal concerning their needs.  No longer content to sit in the boardroom watching over their fiefdom or ride in pampered, secluded style behind the tinted, bullet proof windows of their hideously expensive limousine, to the private jet waiting to rocket them away to a secluded resort, the extremely wealthy are now demanding their share of the American Dream.  “Why should poor people get all the help?”  Is the battle cry of the Wealth is OK with Us Liberation Army.

According to a recent survey of the top 1% of the US, when measured in net worth, a full 78% of those who responded demanded that corporate welfare include free lunches. “And not just that crap they serve to the common folk in the cafeteria” demanded one billionaire who asked to have his identity kept secret, because he did not want his wife to find out he was not eating the healthy lunch she packed for him each day.  “Look, the government gives free lunches to poor kids in school all the time, what do they do to generate jobs, how does that stimulate investment?”

Another key component of this Anti-Anti Wealth Movement is the use of public defenders in antitrust lawsuits and insider trading cases.  Since they feel it is normally the government “stirring up all the trouble when a guy is just trying to make a quick buck.  How is that different than when the DA is prosecuting a poor guy for armed robbery?”  When it is pointed out that the “poor guy” can not afford an attorney the response is “oh yeah, play the wealth card, why don’t ya?”  When it is pointed out that often public defenders are overwhelmed with case loads, overworked to the point of not having the time to prepare for trial and untrained to handle the intricacies of SEC regulations and the complexities involved in the legal maneuvering of corporate law, the answer is always, “the Government will just have to pony up the money for better lawyers for us. Hey, they started all of this, anyways.”

Some of the poorer members of this elite class of earners asked to have government subsidies for Country Club memberships.  No longer happy at the Country Clubs that allow “just about anybody, even congress people”, they are looking upward, even it is out of their price range.  “Hey, we pay taxes, a little, at least most of us”, explained one wealthy bank executive who requested privacy, claiming to be close friends with several people who had “heaps of dough, and they don’t know I am living on the edge.” Of course they demanded that it be completely invisible to the other members.  “Imagine the horror of finally teeing up at the Yellowstone Club and having the other members of your foursome find out good old Uncle Sam paid your way.  Even your caddy would die of shame.”

Taxes are the main irritant to the wealthiest of America.  Long have they considered their share of the tax burden unfair.  It is a widely held belief among the wealthy that tax laws are weighted heavily in the favor of the poor.  They argue for a tax rate that will cover the federal budget.  What they propose is to take the budget divide it by the number of citizens and everybody sends in a check for their share.  If there is not enough, another check, too much, give it to the wealthy, to invest in the future of the country.

It looks to be a long, protracted battle, but the wealthy say they will not give up until they have the same rights as everyone else.  They just want to be treated as equals, equals with a lot of money, power, and superiority.  “We are tired of being misunderstood.”