C.E.O. Position Available:

Large American Corporation seeks C.E.O. with right qualifications. Applicant must be willing to accept obscenely large salary, benefit, and bonus package in compensation for slashing the wages and benefits of hourly employees, and eliminating hourly positions when and wherever possible. A successful applicant is one who can place short term profits above the long term health of the company, the community, and the environment. A successful applicant is one who favors modern marketing techniques over personalized service or quality products to maintain a strong customer base. The moral inability to deny a family a home, deny a woman her rights, deny a man his dignity, or deny a child a doctor may disqualify any applicant from this position. If chosen for this position you will be granted a chauffeured limousine, a company jet, and a seven city condo package. If you do not already have a trophy wife, one will be appointed to you at orientation. Large American Corp. is not an EEO employer. Wealthy white male psychopaths encouraged to apply.

Man Alive

  

I take my camera with me almost everyplace I go, but not inside the grocery store. After the photo opportunity I missed today however, I may have to reconsider that policy.

This morning I pulled into the WinCo Foods parking lot to pick up some Chinese mustard, sesame seeds, and dog food (No, there’s no correlation between the first two and the later item.) After parking the truck I set my camera behind the passenger seat as I always do in such places, and walked toward the entrance. As I approached, out of the store walked a white haired man who I would guess to be at least seventy five years old. He was pushing one of those big WinCo shopping carts about half full of groceries, and behind him walked a woman who I assume was his wife.

About ten feet outside the store the old man began pushing the cart faster and faster, leaving his wife behind. Then he put one foot up on the back of the cart, and gave a couple good shoves off the ground with the other foot, sending the cart and himself flying downhill between two rows of parked cars. My immediate reaction was to reach for the camera that I wasn’t carrying at the time, and as much as I wanted to run back to the truck for it, I knew the moment would be lost if I did. And so I just stood there and smiled as I watched.

The man with his thin gray hair flapping in the wind zoomed down the incline for about thirty yards, and then he and the cart gradually slowed as the parking lot tipped slightly uphill. When he stopped, he was just feet from his car, but barely within yelling distance of his wife, who continued to walk unperturbed toward her husband. What was she thinking, I wondered. “Damn you Harold! Why must you act like such a child?” or was she thinking “There goes my hero” and remembering a time when the wind blew in both of their faces. I certainly hope it was the later.

I continued to watch as he loaded the groceries into the trunk, pushed the cart to the cart corral, and returned just in time to open the car door for his wife. Yes I wished I had my camera, but the story will have to be enough. What a picture!

While shopping I realized that my new hero (the seventy-some year old kid) could have parked much closer to the store if he wanted to. There were plenty of spaces available. I bet he parks in that spot and takes that life affirming cart ride every time he and his wife go grocery shopping. And what a good wife he has. It’s not every woman who would walk that extra distance just so her husband could take such a joy ride. Leaving the store I imagine that he must have been a race car driver, or crop duster in his younger years… and yes, then I took a little cart ride of my own.

  

My Own Way

  
Please teach me nothing.
Let me find my own way.
Let me make my own mark on the wall,
Below the millions who have come before me,
Above the millions who behind me crawl.

Please show me nothing.
Let me use my own eyes.
Let me contemplate the world I see,
Here in the moment, from the my own perspective,
To witness and imagine what could be.

Please sing me nothing.
Let me hear my own song.
Let me hear the music of the land,
From melodies that blow through windy canyons,
To beating waves that crash upon the sand.

Please give me nothing.
Let me earn my own way.
Let me find a way to show my worth,
To add coin of gratitude for my time,
For all the days I walked upon this earth.
  

The Wall Street Doughboy

  
The Wall Street Journal reported that Hedge Fund Manager John Paulson earned a record $5 billion in individual income during 2010, so I got out my calculator and crunched the numbers:

$5 billion in one year is equal to $13.7 million per day, or $571 thousand per hour, or $9.5 thousand per minute, or $158 per second. But wait, those figures are only valid if you consider him to be at work 24-7-365. Hey even this guy’s got to sleep and spend some quality time with the family, so if you recalculate those numbers based on a 40 hour per week salary (including golf meetings and paid vacations) the amount he was paid for his invaluable services in 2010 was in excess of $2.4 million per hour, or $40 thousand per minute, or $667 per second.

Yes I know, most weeks Mr. Paulson probably puts in more than his 40 hours at the office/golf course/yacht club, but as all of us who've been in management know, when you go on salary you get screwed, so let’s cry some crocodile tears for poor John. Go ahead, go get your Kleenex, and when you get back I’ll show you some fun comparison’s between John’s life and ours.

Fun comparisons:
The average human heart rate is 70 – 80 beats per minute.
...John gets paid over $500 per beat.
The average person blinks every 4 seconds.
...For John that’s $2,668 per blink.
It takes 45 seconds to microwave a hot dog.
...That’s $30 thousand to wait for the ping.
If it took you a minute and a half to read this, collect $60,000.00
...Oh wait, if you’re not John Paulson collect zero.

Important tax note:
80% of John’s earnings were paid in capital gains, so luckily his tax burden will be minimal, and if Republicans get their way, soon capital gains won’t be taxed at all. Won’t that be nice? Maybe then John can go out and buy that small country he’s always wanted.
    

Pioneers

 

Sometimes when I see a jet fly over, or watch the space shuttle on TV I think “I wonder what it would be like if Orville and Wilbur could be brought back to life to witness this.” What would they think? Surely they’d be thrilled beyond belief.

And I wonder what it would be like to take Leonardo da Vinci to the Smithsonian for an afternoon to show him how far we’ve come? Would he be impressed? Would he be surprised and pleased that we remembered to credit him with inventing the delta wing, the hydraulic pump, and so many other things that we use in modern engineering today?

Similarly on the night that Barack Obama was elected I remember thinking what millions of others must have been thinking, “I wish Martin Luther King Jr. could witness this moment.” I thought of how proud and happy he would have been. Of course looking back on it now, it would have been merciful to have returned him to the grave soon after, because I’m sure that after the high of that night the amount of bigotry and racism that arose so quickly after the election from communities all around this country would have saddened Martin greatly. I know it has saddened me.

I hope that someday before I die I can once again think “I wish Martin Luther King Jr. could witness this moment.” Until then, rest in peace Martin. You’re work is finished. America’s work ineptly continues.

A Gun Owner's Rant

  

Regarding the viral facebook message that begins with “To everyone who is calling for stricter gun laws in light of the tragedy in Tuscon,” and ends with “if guns are outlawed - only outlaws will have guns!!!”

Folks, “regulating” does not equal “outlawing.” Conflating these two things is an overused NRA tactic that works very well on weak and paranoid minds, but it has no basis in reality. When is the last time our government regulated something as a first step toward outlawing it? That's okay, I’ll wait…........ Well? Considering the fact that unwarranted wiretaps, and secret searches of American citizens by former President what’s-his-name didn’t bother the NRA crowd you wouldn’t think the mere thought of regulating little things like 30 round clips for semi-automatic handguns would upset them, but it does, and how! Just try using your first amendment rights to quiz them about their second amendment rights and you’ll find out how. Yep, they’ll be in your face as fast, loud, and dumb as Billy the Kid’s six-shooter (Believe me. I’ve had that conversation a couple of times now.)

Remember all you Palinite’s, the Second Amendment wasn't written with semiautomatic handguns, and 30 round clips in mind. That’s right, read it yourself. It was written so that “well regulated” militias when needed could show up with flintlock rifles instead of pitchforks to defend us against the British, or French, or whoever else might be pissed off at us. This was important at the time because we didn’t (nor did our founding fathers intend us to have) a standing army.

So why are we so against regulating, and especially against licensing guns when we regulate and license cars, trailers, boats, pets, etc? I’d gladly license my guns if I could get out of permitting my damn carport! For crying out loud, I need a license to wield a clam gun in this state …but not a Glock (unless of course I want to shoot a clam with it.) How ‘bout we consider the possibility that regulations and guns can coexist ...You know like cars and speed limits, or parachutes and ripcords, or are we against preventing senseless deaths?

And by the way, nobody’s even seriously talking about licensing guns in this recent discussion of common sense gun regulations. They’re just talking about possibly reinstating the assault weapons ban. You know, the Bush supported ban that may have saved half the people gunned down in Arizona last week if we hadn't let it expire. That ban is kind of like the ban on driving monster trucks on the freeway (it won’t outlaw “normal” hunting and sporting weapons.) There’s also talk of asking people not to bring guns to political rallies, or places deemed dangerous by local municipalities (like inside taverns for example.) That ban is kind of like saying you can’t drive your car INSIDE the mall. Again it doesn’t take away your weapons. It just says park them outside.

For the record, I’m a gun owner. I like being able to legally have my guns, but I don't feel a need to keep an arsenal. Nor do I have any desire to tote them around in public for the illusion (or delusion) of safety, or worse intimidation. I feel that owning guns is a responsibility as well as a right, and having them without having to show up for militia duty is a privilege …one that I don’t take lightly.

Oh, and one more thing: Maybe we should consider not selling guns to psychotics. I know it won’t stop all the Jared Laughner’s out there from acquiring a gun somehow but shouldn’t we at least make it harder for guys like Hinckley, Chapman, and now Laughner to purchase a gun? We don’t want drunks on our roads, or pedophiles on our playgrounds, so why do we accept heavily armed psychotics on our sidewalks? Just wondering?

Okay, I’m done yammering (for now.) Have a safe day everyone :)

Fabric Softener

You live with someone for over twenty years, and then all of a sudden they change on you. That’s right, my wife recently started adding fabric softener to the towel loads! Do you have any idea what fabric softener does to a perfectly good functional towel? Well if you’ve never experienced the horror of it, I’ll tell you. It turns what was once a useful drying cloth into a plush piece of material as soft as a baby’s butt, and just as absorbent. Think about it …if baby’s butts were absorbent they wouldn’t need diapers would they? So here I am, soaking wet in front of the shower trying to dry myself off with the cotton equivalent of an infant’s behind when my wife says “Aren’t those towels soft?” “What the... what did you do, spray them with Scotchgard?” I asked “All I’m doin’ is pushing water around over here!” “...But aren’t they soft?” she continued. “Yeah, soft as a butterfly’s wing” I said “But they’re ruined!! …er, I mean yes dear, they’re very soft.”

Then the next day we’re at the grocery store, so I sneak over to the cleaning section and ask the guy stocking the shelves “Hey, do you have any fabric unsoftener?” He said “Aren’t you the guy who was looking for a stud finder finder a few weeks ago?” “Yeah, that was me …hey, you used to work over at Home Depot, right?” “Yeah, used to” he said, then he started looking real edgy “I got fired for calling a customer a moron!” “Oh, sorry to hear that” I said “but about the fabric unsoftener…” Then he started turning bright red, so I said ”Never mind, I’ll go look for it myself.” Just then my wife came around the corner, and tossed a jug of fabric softener into the cart.

As it turns out, a lot of things I need haven’t been invented yet, so until technology catches up with my lifestyle, I’m keeping a small pile of scratchy absorbent towels separate from the rest of the laundry.