Final Thoughts

Over the past two weeks or so, I have been inundated with potential subjects for an opinion piece. From the election cycle to foreign affairs to global warming to banking to just about anything at all, my mind has been abuzz. Yet nothing has been put to paper until this moment. This feeling of being overwhelmed leads me to once again re-think my continued efforts along these lines (figuratively and literally).

Cyberspace allows each of us the opportunity to express ourselves. Unfortunately, the same could be said for attending a sports event. In such cases, the voices are so numerous and diverse that a cacophony results offering little or no organized pattern. So, as we each post our opinions, it becomes increasingly difficult to garner the attention of the reader.

I’ll be honest: I never considered myself to be any kind of Messiah, but did think that my approach and “It’s NOT Just You”-ology might strike a nerve that could well lead to some small revenue stream of public speaking and the like. Much like those in many parts of the country today, the stream is dry. As a matter of fact, it has seen little, if any, monetary moisture.

So, while my effort costs nothing (other than the effort itself) I find myself lacking the drive to continue. Maybe retirement has affected me in such a way where I am no longer regularly subjected to the insanities of society. I live far from the madding crowd at the end of a one lane road on 40 acres. I venture out occasionally, but rarely to venues that offer a complete immersion into the daily challenges most have come to call home.

I am financially secure and in good health. Many of the decisions made today by my political leaders will have little or no impact upon me or my wife. And with no children to inherit the messes created today, my worries are few. While still able to get passionate about some of the greater contradictions going on about me, I’ve come to realize that my two cents are lost in the din of others more strident and/or flamboyant.

So I bid you, once again, adieu. I do not ask for validation nor will I be convinced to begin yet anew upon receiving any urgings from the few that enjoy my ramblings. I can’t help but think that others can fill the small void I leave quite admirably.

We live in a crazy world at a crazy time.  No surprise, though, since each generation has lamented the same words. But don’t let the bastards get you down. Expect more...demand more...and don’t for a minute ever think that you, alone, are frustrated. Share your feelings with others at every opening and soon you’ll see that it, in fact, is NOT just you!

All the best...

When to Say "When"

One needn’t look too far to see that the unionized workforce in America continues to shrink. According to the US Department of Labor, it has decreased from 20.1% in 1983 to 11.8% in 2011 with most of those being public sector workers. And we know that many state and local workers are now being asked to accept draconian cuts to their existing contracts.

Few remain that can give a first-hand account of labor’s foray into organization. A quick search of the internet will provide ample anecdotal evidence, though, that it was far removed from scholarly debate in a wood-paneled boardroom. No, it was more brick-bats and fisticuffs in the streets and back alleys surrounding the plants in question. The desire to have a voice was equally met with a solid resistance from managements and the desire to maintain the status quo. Why not? After all, with no union, bosses could hire and fire at will while holding the threat of job loss over every employee as they sought higher and higher productivity.

The blood spilled in those battles led to management’s eventual capitulation in the name of labor peace and the unionization of much of the work force led to a higher quality of life and the Middle Class. And this, in turn, led to an economy that rose all boats.

In the last several decades, though, unionization became passé and many took the pay, benefits, and working conditions they enjoyed as a given rather than acknowledging the sacrifices made by those before them. “Union dues? We don’t need them. Hell, we’ve got a great job!”

This relaxation was well received by management teams and the politicos that supported big business bosses over worker bees. Thus the mantras began: good, hard workers don’t need unions...our door is always open...right to work legislation. Seemingly overnight, unions found themselves on the defensive and strikes were met with eager applicants ready to cross a picket line to get one of those once-great jobs. As it turned out, many of those replacement workers (scabs) abandoned their positions soon thereafter due to the onerous conditions under which they toiled.

So here we are today with a disappearing middle class that covered up the erosion of their pay and quality of life by dipping into the equity of their homes. Until, at least, their home values sunk to a point where they had none to draw. And, sadly, many jobs lost in the past five years are not coming back largely due to automation and even higher productivity from unionized and non-unionized workers alike.

Strikes have become a tool of the past. Back to work decrees and the uncertainty of success have combined to neuter labor’s biggest weapon. And without the threat of a strike, management can extend negotiations ad infinitum without fear of any work stoppage. Organized labor’s heyday lies in the past, at least for the time being.

As I write this, my former colleagues at American Airlines are deciding which devil to dance with: a contract that is far worse than the present one or the abrogation of it altogether through the bankruptcy court. Abrogation has occurred only once in the airline industry when Frank Lorenzo used Chapter 11 proceedings to throw out the contracts at Continental Airlines. Even though Congress closed the loophole, Lorenzo tried it again at Eastern, but the employees decided that one swift stabbing was more desirable than a death by a thousand cuts and struck, en masse. 

American’s management is exhorting the employees to support the LBFO (Last, Best Final Offer) and the union leaders are echoing that sentiment in claiming that it is the lesser of the two evils. My opinion is moot since I am no longer in the arena and immune from suffering the consequences of either option.

Nevertheless, I can say with a high degree of certainty that until labor, in general, decides to once again oppose the continued degradation of contractual rights their ranks will continue to diminish. And by “opposition” I do not suggest long-winded bargaining sessions in wood-paneled boardrooms. No, the fight will once again move to the streets and back-alleys and blood will be shed. It may not be the kind that is spilled from split heads, but rather a financial blood letting whose consequences may be longer lasting while leaving deeper scars.

There is a point where even a union job has been decimated to the point where it no longer offers any meaningful reward. It is at this point where the union is rendered meaningless, too. I could say, with a cavalier wave of my hand, that the time has come for workers to once again embrace the power of an organized employee group, but to what end? It is now, as it always has been, up to each individual to decide just how much can be given away until a job’s worth has evaporated. And until that tipping point is reached corporate and public leaders will continue to nibble away at the pay and benefits of their employees hoping that the thought of “it could be worse” will result in yet another concession.

Interesting times, to be sure. Isn’t that a Chinese curse?

A Shaggy Dog Story

The shaggy dog in question is Rocky, a Belgian Malinois. OK, shaggy may be a bit of an overstatement, but the rest of this story is the truth. Rocky was in Afghanistan, employed by the US Army as a land mine detection dog. His job was to locate IED’s before a soldier found one with a boot and his longevity speaks to his ability.

Unfortunately, Rocky developed glaucoma and suffered a detached retina in one eye. As a result, the Army “retired” him from the force. But there was a rub: military working dogs are considered equipment and, as such, do not enjoy a free ride back to the states when their service is complete. As a matter of fact, the military has the option of putting dogs down that fall into this category.

CDH International is a world-wide, self-funded charity (CDHInternational.org). Among it’s many efforts is bringing dogs like Rocky back home. This is anything but an easy chore due to endless red tape, bureaucratic “not-my-job” clerks, and other obstacles. Finding airlift outside of military craft usually entails large sums of money for chartering and “handling charges” (others might refer to this as extortion, bribery, and so on).

In this particular case, CDH reached out to the Puppy Rescue Mission (ThePuppyRescueMission.org), another charitable effort to reunite soldiers with the many strays they had adopted while serving in the war zones. Chandi (from CDH) and Michelle (from PRM) collaborated in getting Rocky to Los Angeles last week.

In the meantime, they had posted his photo on Facebook in the hopes of finding him a “forever home”. This posting was seen by Jason, a retired Sheriff’s deputy in Northern California. Jason was a canine officer and paired with another Malinois also named Rocky. In quick succession, Jason was involved in two events involving an armed suspect. One had a knife and the other a handgun. Rocky was instrumental in minimizing the harm to his handler, but Jason was medically retired after the shooting.

Rocky, on the other hand was still available for duty. Normally, when a canine retires his handler is able to purchase the dog for a dollar. In this case, Jason would have had to pony up $3500 and having just lost his job could not spare the funds. Needless to say, Jason quickly responded to the post and offered to adopt the “new” Rocky. 

Last Tuesday I received a call from Michelle. I am a volunteer pilot for Pilots n Paws (PilotsnPaws.org) and she found my bio on their website. Since I am in Northern California, too, she thought that I might be able to help in getting Rocky from LA to NorCal. Having a Malinois myself, I was all too happy to assist, but didn’t have the availability to go all the way to LA to pick him up. Mike, another Pilots n Paws volunteer pilot, offered to pick Rocky up and deliver him to San Luis Obispo, on the central California coast.. In the meantime, Jason would drive to my airport and we would fly down to San Luis to make the exchange.

So last Friday that is exactly what happened. Jason and I were waiting on the ramp at the San Luis Obispo Jet Center when Mike, his daughter, and Rocky arrived. The meet and greet was one of those “goose-bump” moments. The “new” Rocky was almost a twin to Jason’s ex-partner and I thought for sure that Jason would begin to cry when they met.

The flight back was conducted with Jason and Rocky occupying the back seats. You see, Rocky, as most others of his breed, is what we call high energy. That means they can get into mischief in a New York minute and the last thing I needed to explain to my airplane partner was the chewed up back seats. All went well, though, and we landed without any interior damage.

As I write this, Rocky is settling into his new home with Jason and his family. The end? Maybe, if we include the happily-ever-after part, but that’s not today’s point. You see, I’ve often been critical of the time wasted on social networking, but now I’m not so sure.

My story brought six principals together. Five folks and one dog that knew nothing of the others until cyberspace united them for one common cause. And now those lives have been forever changed. And that is nothing to sneeze at.

I guess that since the beginning of time there were those that under-appreciated the true value of the latest and greatest invention of the day. So why be surprised that the social network is no different? While many idly text and tweet while conjuring up only the simplest, most menial thoughts, others see the possibility of unfettered communication and use it to advance noble causes that otherwise would fall by the wayside. Take the Arab Spring, for instance. Or Rocky.

I’ve received some comments as of late regarding a recent post in which I lamented how people have evolved little over the past 500 years, or so. Maybe I was too hard on mankind. Maybe there is hope for a world where wealth is invested in causes far beyond personal gain and political differences give way to a common interest in making our world a better place. Rocky and his many advocates sure made a believer out of me.

(And should you be as outraged as I in learning of the fate in store for retired canine forces abroad, let your representatives know about it.)

Mixed Nuts

How about a few independent topics with one common element: nuts!

While Syria is mired in, for all intents and purposes, a civil war, Russia and China continue to oppose any UN resolution for a cease fire. Are they nuts? Of course not. You see, they know that should their citizens decide to oppose the established government they’d be ready to open fire upon them, too. At least they’re honest, but if you think they’ll ever get behind such an idea you’re nuts.

Folks continue to moan about the high cost of air travel. Adjusted for inflation, it is about the only item that hasn’t kept pace. Bad management decisions resulted in over capacity which resulted in fare wars. And low fares were subsidized by employees through concessions or bankruptcy courts. That wasn’t enough, though, so now your ticket price includes a seat, period. Other “amenities” are offered, but as additional charges (nuts are still free). We know this as “a la carte pricing” and the airlines are raking in big bucks as a result. So much so that hotels are considering individual utility meters in each room. In that way, we’ll pay for our water and electricity on usage rather than having such “luxuries” bundled into the room rate. Nuts? Maybe, but don’t be surprised if it comes to pass.

You’re nuts if you think that the realism in today’s movies and video games does not allow the nuts within our society to dream up nightmare scenarios similar to the one recently played out in Aurora, Colorado. The connection may not be a direct link, but one does feed the other to be sure. And anyone who thinks that banning assault weapons somehow infringes on our Second Amendment rights is equally nuts. We don’t need them for hunting or household protection and we sure as hell don’t need them in the hands of other nuts looking to make a name for themselves.

And, on a related note, you’re nuts if you think that either political party will consider the limiting of assault weapons. They’re not nuts, necessarily, but they both know that some in the NRA are. And those nuts vote! So don’t count on any changes from our supposed leaders anytime soon.

If your city is financially strapped and reducing the numbers of cops, firemen, and other municipal service providers to save money you’re nuts if you think that will help. Who would want to move into an area with little or no police or fire protection? Conversely, everyone that can get out of town is doing so. And the city leaders that support such moves? You can bet your ass they don’t live in town or, if they do, are looking to move in the near future. Such plans to meet expenses result in nothing but the continued decay of the community and an ever deepening financial hole.

Oh, and if you think that airline pilots never take a 10 minute power nap during cruise, you’re really nuts!

Living in the Past

I’ve returned safely from a two week sojourn abroad and, after three restless nights, have finally readjusted to my local time zone. Most of the time away was spent on a Rhine River cruise from Basel, Switzerland to Amsterdam. The Rhine is replete with castles and, while most of my fellow passengers delved into their historic significance, I found myself focusing on something altogether different. (What a surprise, huh?)

Back in those days of old a castle was, indeed, a fortress. Most contained a moat and were built on higher terrain with limited access to their front gates. These locations and their accouterments were not by accident, you know. It seemed that most folks were hated by most other folks and so, to protect what was theirs, they constructed these fortified “homesteads”. Turrets, battlements, and gun ports were erected to fend off would-be invaders.

Even then, I thought, everyone with wealth concentrated on keeping it from others. And when they weren’t doing that, they concentrated on how to gain more wealth from others. One would think that over the past five hundred years or more the human race would have evolved a bit. Apparently, it hasn’t.

The only thing that has significantly changed is the technology employed to keep our stuff safe from other ne’er-do-wells interested in acquiring it. Moats have gone the way of gated communities, privacy walls, and electronic security systems. The limited access  feature remains and still ends up at a gate of some kind (possibly with a sentry). And I’d venture to say that we are every bit as paranoid as our ancestors in devising ways to keep our riches safe while thinking of ways to get our hands on more. Guns and cannons are no longer required as they once were. Now we use computers and complicated investment schemes to enrich our coffers.

Yes, I generalize, but a glance at any daily newspaper proves my point. I cannot think of one facet of our society that has not betrayed the trust it once enjoyed: government, church, education, banking, and business to name just a few have an abundance of anecdotal evidence pointing to scandal and the attempt to cover-up or carry out plans to either maintain wealth or create even more surreptitiously.

If mankind has not gotten past the practices of medieval times, then what hope can we have for the problems facing us today? Any leader who wants to maintain control fully realizes that hope is the key ingredient in maintaining calm among the masses. Without it revolution is sure to occur. Today in this country the hope of advancement through working hard and being recognized appropriately has given ground to overnight success stories of lottery winners and reality TV celebrities. Do you think this is by accident? I don’t.

After all, it’s about the only dream most of us can lay claim to anymore. Many have no job at all and others are so terrified of losing one that they fall prey to the unreasonable demands of their bosses. Not much hope for that to improve anytime soon so we might as well dwell on how we’ll spend our lottery winnings. It’s something, anyway.

We look to our leaders to make things better by challenging the status quo. But that is the last thing they want to do because the status quo guarantees them of a continued flow of wealth and power. They’d be nuts to consider that or think with a grander vision than their own advancement. And there’s the problem: for over three years I have encouraged the thought of corporate conscience and the like and, until I saw the castles of the Rhine up close and personal, I thought it was a possibility.

No longer, though. And that saddens me for if we cannot have faith in those who lead there is no reason for them to do so. And so, instead, they continue to laud the good old USA as the last shining example of society on the world. “We’re number 1”, they chant as we chant along. Only, though, if we’re talking about defense spending or incarceration rates. We’re not number 1, folks, and haven’t been for a good while. But it makes us feel good in the absence of any substantive change in our lives, doesn’t it? Kind of like the citizens of ancient Rome in its last days of glory, perhaps.

“Where’s the ray of sunshine?” you might ask. After all, I usually find one straw to grasp. Not today, though. Nope, I’m left with a feeling of helplessness because I’ve held fast to the concept that the human race can rise up and do great things. Maybe we still can, but as wrapped up as we are in scandal and partisanship I think it will take either major upheaval outside of established institutions or some other external stimulus. We don’t have the power to change things and those that do don’t want to. Except, of course, in providing the perception that they want to. And that provides cold comfort as prospects for improvement grow dim.

So here I sit wondering why I continue to hold out hope for deliverance through established methods when I’m no longer dealing with the mindset of folks, but rather their DNA seemingly unchanged over the past few eons. We’ve all seen the tee shirt that says “SSDD” (Same shit, different day). I can now visualize one that says “SSDC”: Same shit, different century.

The World As It Could Be

Do you remember the television series “The West Wing”? If so, do you remember the feeling of optimism wash over you in witnessing politics as it could be? Well, Aaron Sorkin is at it again with HBO’s “Newsroom”. I watched the first episode last night and feel the same waves of wistfulness in witnessing news as it could be.

There’s nothing wrong with such nostalgic emotions, you know. How can we envision a better tomorrow without tying that vision to some quixotic crusade? What’s wrong with a world of “us” instead of “you” and “me”? Or a world where leaders share a common goal of the advancement of our society as a whole? Impossible? I think not, although unrealistic might apply in the realm of today’s events.

But we have to start somewhere and where better than a television program where ideals outweigh pragmatic agendas. And profanity is allowed, to boot! I urge you to watch this show regardless of your political persuasion. It could well cause you to reflect on a time in this country when we did great things rather than resting on our laurels. For those without access to HBO, episodes can be downloaded. Please?

OK, that’s it for now...short and sweet. The next two weeks are filled with traveling abroad so you won’t be hearing from me until my return. Something tells me that little will have changed thus providing ample fodder for my future musings.

Much Obliged

“Much obliged” is a term that historically refers to a statement made by someone receiving a favor from someone else. It infers that the first person is now obliged to return the favor at some future point in time.

I’m going to bend that phrase a bit by interpreting the “obliged” as an obligation (or promise) made by one person (or entity) to another. And the more numerous the obligations the more appropriate to use the word “much”.

The public and private sectors alike have made promises to those they employ to ensure an uninterrupted effort in providing a particular service. You know the drill: pay, benefits, and so on. And a big part of the benefits package was the pension that all the worker bees could plan on receiving after dedicating a career to the Golden Goose.

It has now become almost ordinary to read that some company or municipality has chosen to abrogate those pension promises through the bankruptcy courts or, at least, the threat of such legal action. And you know this drill, too: “We can no longer guarantee lifetime payments to an ever expanding number of retirees when our workforce has remained stagnant or decreased.”

Economically, it makes sense. But an obligation is an obligation, isn’t it? Apparently not and the biggest source of angst is the fact that both sides (labor and management/politico) knew that it was unsustainable when they signed it! And they also knew that they would both be lounging on a beach somewhere when the house of cards came crashing down. And, in an effort to make up the shortfall, those charged with keeping the pension funds reasonably secure chose to invest in riskier opportunities that resulted in even greater losses when the bubble burst.

“Well, it serves labor right, you know. I’m not a union person, anyway.” Yet another opinion voiced all too often today. But our system is rife with similar obligations: how about Social Security? Or Medicare? These, too, are unsustainable as more retirees look to a shrinking workforce to fund the promises made in the past.

No, we all have a seat on this boat regardless of our age, income, or social standing. But what to do about it? Well, the popular thing is the aforementioned bankruptcy option for corporate America while city, state, and federal legislators seek to redefine and readjust obligations that they no longer care to honor. Bankruptcy, too, is in their bag of options and we have seen cities waltz down the aisle to that tune, too. And that’s bad for a number of reasons.

First of all, many folks have planned their lives around the promise of a set amount of dollars coming in every month. They’re not greedy nor selfish. They simply operated in good faith and expect that the quid will appear for their quo. Now, at the last possible moment, that revenue stream may be curtailed if not eliminated altogether.

In addition, and perhaps more important, a message is sent that past promises can be ignored when times change. “Kings X...and my fingers were crossed, to boot!” How can we expect the next generation to have any grasp of integrity or ethics when they watch their elders routinely disregard pacts that were made in good faith, but ignored when it became expedient? And we wonder why the kids today seem to have no respect for established institutions or figures of authority.

While pension obligations and such should still be adhered to, the fact remains that the systems under which they exist must be altered. Forward thinking leaders in the private sector (both labor and management) have recognized this and adopted new agreements that provide for limits on pensions while offering self-funding options. Different? Yes. Not as lucrative? Perhaps. But, if given enough advance notice, manageable. So we grandfather everyone within, say, 10 years of retirement and then slowly reduce the guarantees available to the younger workers. Graduated through the ranks of the workforce, significant cost reductions can be achieved without cutting the legs out from underneath anyone.

The public sector, unfortunately, relies on political will (i.e. leadership) for such changes to the various pension provisions and social programs. Such leadership has been in short supply of late and the political polarization we currently see gives little hope for progress.

Answer this for me: in any given stalemate with your spouse or your kids or your boss has a mutually agreeable solution ever been found in one of the extreme views held by one participant? I doubt it. No, the answer generally lies somewhere in the middle. No one can declare outright victory, but no one is left holding only shitty end of the stick, either. Compromise, in other words.

Maybe instead of voting for far left or far right candidates, we should seek out those residing more to the middle of the road. They are the ones most prone to find a reasonably amicable solution to the financial challenges faced by every citizen. We’ve all got a dog in this fight, folks. Let’s remember the myriad of obligations while finding ways to adapt to tomorrow’s reality. Unless, of course, you’re not interested in progress. Then just stand in your corner, holding your breath, and giving the guy in the opposite corner the finger. That should solve our problems now, shouldn’t it?

De-Sensitivity Training

This is a column from March 13, 2011 that mysteriously disappeared.  A reader pointed that out, so here it is: 


As I arrived at my jet for a departure last week, one of my Flight Attendants asked me if I would like a Brazilian soda. He showed me a can that I didn’t recognize and I assumed it was left over from an international flight. With my tongue firmly in cheek, I said, “No, I try to avoid drinking anything from third world countries”. Several minutes later, he took me aside and told me that he was offended by my comment as he was from a third world country.

Rather than pursue the matter, I stated that no offense was intended and moved on. My company, much like most others, has created an offense-free work environment where almost anyone can claim umbrage at almost anything said, regardless of the tone or context. With a relatively short time before reaching my retirement date, I chose discretion over valor in letting his remark go unchallenged.

But this venue is anything but offense-free, so allow me to vent a bit and offer a counter strategy to blunt the ever-encroaching politically correct police. First of all, Brazil is far from a third world country: it is the 8th largest economy in terms of GDP and the 7th when comparing purchasing power. If my flight attendant friend took his offense based on his Brazilian roots, he needs to take a bit more pride in his heritage. If, on the other hand, he hails from another country that doesn’t enjoy such a high degree of success, how am I to know? Once again, without further discussion, nothing is learned and no one is better served. He considers me an insensitive prick and I see him as a hyper-sensitive pain in the ass suffering from a shortage of self-esteem.

So be it, but what can be done to stymie such exchanges? I propose a new organization: the NAAYP, or the National Association for the Awareness of You People. That’s right: you people. You see, to everyone else, I qualify as “you people”. The categorization could be one of many traits: ethnicity, religion, skin color, income status, political affiliation. The list is endless. Regardless, I am “you people” to others just as they are “you people” to me. So what’s so great about the NAAYP?

Well, the first benefit is the slow realization that everyone has preconceived notions about most everyone else in one form or another and most of these notions are false. Rather than hold them in, let’s share them with our friends. “You people sure know how to drink.” “Why don’t you people learn to take better care of yourselves?” “The world would be a better place if you people knew how to get along.” Or, with a sigh and a shrug, “You people...!”

It wouldn’t take very long before we started laughing at such observations instead of reacting with pretended offense and haughty indignation. And, in so doing, we’d eventually get over ourselves and accept each other with a bit more understanding and less resentment. Would “you people” then disappear from our lexicon? No, unfortunately, there will always be “you people” in the form of nay-sayers and such. But their numbers will be less and they will continue to offer comedic relief for the rest of us folks. 

Finally, when we’ve achieved this new level of interaction and awareness, we could change the name of our group to the NAAWP: the National Association for the Advancement of We People. We people are all a bit different, but we all share common traits that should be embraced rather than emphasizing differences to exploit and shun. We people all bring unique qualities to the table of humanity and, once recognized, we can achieve great things together. 

Learn From Thy Neighbor

Picture, if you will, your back yard. And there you are standing in the middle of it. You are surrounded by fertilizer and grass seed. Bermuda grass seed, to be exact. You intend to spread the fertilizer and sow the seeds in the hope of enjoying a lush and robust lawn come next summer.

You casually look over the fence into your neighbor’s back yard and notice that it is in great need of repair. Coincidentally, he, too, has planted Bermuda grass, but it is not flourishing. Rather, it has died in spots while others are marginal, at best. This strikes you as odd because the rest of the grounds look wonderful. Could it be that Bermuda grass simply does not do well in your area?

Now picture yourself spreading the fertilizer and planting the Bermuda grass seed as originally intended. “What? Am I nuts?” you ask. And rightfully so. Who would maintain a course of folly in the face of less-than-hoped-for results? Well, it looks like we would, economically speaking, at least.

Our political debate currently revolves about the best way to reinvigorate the economy. One side (the Right) maintains that austerity alone will bring about prosperity. They reason further that, as the deficit is reduced and tax rates are kept low confidence will return, companies will hire, and all will be well. The other side (the Left) argues that what is needed now is a combination of more government spending and higher tax rates. Then, as good times return, the deficit can be addressed as more money flows into the federal coffers.

Which one is right? How do we know? Well, it turns out that we have a neighbor with experience in such things (just like those in our Bermuda grass analogy): Europe. As the Euro crisis unfolded, countries chose austerity as a way out of the doldrums. Less government spending would decrease debt and low tax rates would encourage “job creators” to do just that. Britain is now in a second recession, Greece and Spain have received large bail-outs, and Iceland (once the darling of austerity) has not delivered on its promise of prosperity.  

I’m not an economist, but I read Paul Krugman’s column in the New York Times regularly. And I am struck not so much by his position, but the history upon which it is based. He looks back at our Great Depression, the Japanese “lost years” and Europe’s current dilemma and draws eerie similarities between those failed agendas and the current popular idea of running our national economy as we would our personal one.

Oddly, the comparisons of how we operate our family budget and how the feds should run the country’s are diametrically opposed. I’ll leave it to Mr. Krugman to elaborate, but the bottom line is the fact that if the government doesn’t spend and companies do not hire there is no one left to spend any money on anything.

No, the time for our government to spend is now. And it needs to spend a lot. The Japanese tried using small stimulus plans which only served to stagnate their potential for a decade. The time for deficit reduction is when the economy prospers. (Of course, in good times politicians are tempted for tax roll backs and the like so as to endear themselves to the electorate. But no one wins, long term, in that scenario.) And we need only to look over our fence and take a look at our neighbor’s lawn to see that our present course of action will lead to less-than-desired results. Nothing complicated: austerity, alone, will not work for, if it did, Europe would be flying high.

I believe the Right knows this, too, but has discovered a mantra that resonates while allowing the pursuit of their “true agenda”: the dismantling of both social programs and an organized workforce. I could be wrong, but regardless I urge you to Google Mr. Krugman and read his op-eds. They offer more than a debatable solution. They offer historical perspective and real-time comparison to our European neighbors. Or you could always go out and plant that Bermuda grass.

Lance

Hoping to have retained at least one or two loyal followers, allow me a moment to update you. Since we last wrote/read I have completed my “Big Adventure”: an around the country cross-country in which I landed in each of the lower 48 states at least once and completed six days of storm chasing in Texas. You may have followed me along on Facebook...or maybe not. Nevertheless, I’m back, rested, and ready to resume my place at the keyboard.

There are a few changes to my madness, though. First of all, no more deadlines. For the past 3+ years I have striven to maintain a Sunday night/Monday morning deadline for my weekly “column”. Now, I will write when the spirit moves me, but no more than twice a week and no less than once every two weeks. I want to neither inundate you nor starve you and feel this may be the best way in seeking the elusive happy medium.

Additionally, I will no longer refer to my effort as a column simply because it isn’t nor am I a columnist. A columnist, you see, writes in a given, cleansed way that is suitable for mass dissemination and is compensated for the effort. While I have tried to promote that facade, I now admit to my limitations in both scope and recompense. As such, expletives are no longer taboo when I feel they add to the discussion. No gratuitous profanity, but rather a bit of spice to the recipe. I trust you will find both changes acceptable.

Having dispensed with the formalities, allow me to turn to a more timely matter...

Dogs have been a major part of my life. I had a Collie (Lassie) as a boy and, after a lengthy absence for college and the Air Force, adopted a Collie rescue (Maggie Mae) in 1987. Since then I have had a Collie in my life. Until four days ago, that is.

During Maggie Mae’s tenure I acquired another Collie: Lad. The timing was a little off, but I had formed a relationship with a renowned Collie breeder in Northern California (Mary Wells of Blossom Hills Collies). One of her bitches had a litter of 10 in late 1992 and she asked if I was interested in one of her blue merle rough males. I was in the first stages of moving to Northern California and had planned on getting a second dog after relocating. And a male was in my plans so as to have a Collie named Lad.

“Lad:A Dog” is a children’s book written by Albert Payson Terhune and was based on an actual dog who lived in the early 1900’s in Pompton Lakes, New Jersey. I must’ve read that book a dozen times as a kid and then, after stumbling upon Terhune’s sequel “The Further Adventures of Lad”, read that one a dozen times more. It simply made sense to pay homage to the Lad of literature and so the new, blue Lad came into my life.

Maggie grew old gracefully, but by early 1997 her quality of life had diminished to the point where my wife and I felt it in her best interest to put her down. Our vet, Bob Atton, came to our home and we held her, said our goodbyes, and shed our tears as she quietly slipped away from us.

Lad carried on the tradition nobly until, on July 6th, 2001 he died suddenly at the early age of 8 1/2. I was not home at the time and can still vividly recall the phone call from my wife. To this day I recoil when my phone rings while away from home. 

At the time, we also had a Yellow Labrador Retriever: Riley. More my wife’s dog, Riley was unable to fill Lad’s shoes when it came to companionship and soon after his passing I was open to the possibility of giving a new Collie a home. Of course, no one animal could take Lad’s place, but I was willing to consider the possibility of a “substitute”. 

By that time, we had become good friends with our Collie breeder, Mary, and she offered a year old sable male, Lance. We traveled to her home for a first-hand look. It was no surprise to me that Lance, while handsome in his own right, could not hold a candle to the image Lad had built in my heart and my head. But I thought it was worth a shot and when I asked Mary about the purchase price I was stunned by her response: nothing...take him home,,,see how he fits in and if all is good, keep him.

The first week was Hell! Lance would pace through the night, looking at the ceiling and barking. My only respite was a three day trip, but my wife endured every night. After a week we voted to return him to Mary and chalk the experiment up to nothing but a good effort. The day we were to drive him back we went to a nearby town to run some errands. Upon returning to our car it would not start. Nothing...Zip. By the time we called a tow truck and got back home it was too late to drive the 2 1/2 hours to Mary’s even if we had an operational vehicle. Since this was a Friday, we would have to wait until Monday at the earliest to return Lance.

Suddenly, the pacing stopped. And the barking stopped, too. It was as though Lad (Lance’s uncle) had returned to advise him of how bad he was fucking up a good thing. By Monday, Lance was a new dog. And, strangely enough, the mechanic could find nothing wrong with our car. Make of that what you will, but I have my theory.

For the next 11 years, Lance served faithfully as my stalwart companion. His thyroid required meds (nothing new to Collies) and he had some kidney failure in the latter stages of his life. Through it all, he was the constant in my daily routine. We had other dogs and cats, but Lance was the senior member and enjoyed all the perks of such a position.

When I departed on my Big Adventure (May 1st), his health was suspect. Nearly blind and hard of hearing, he had taken to snoozing through most of the day and I had no reason to believe that he would be alive upon my return. So I hugged him and kissed him goodbye as if we would not see each other again all the while hoping that he would find a way to maintain.

I got home last Tuesday to find him rail thin. My wife said his eating had become more sporadic than usual (he was never a ravenous eater) and that his pacing had become the norm. Apparently, it was hard for him to stand and hard for him to lie down. I weighed him on Wednesday to find that he had shed 20% of his weight in the last two months. Basically, he was wasting away in front of us and to allow this to continue was unconscionable.

I made the call to our vet, affectionately referred to as Dr. Jan, and told her of our decision. My main concern was allowing him to pass in a setting other than a stainless steel examination table. Dr. Jan said that we could work that out and the appointment was made for the next day.

In circumstances like these, one can feel like the executioner awaiting the carrying out of the sentence. Having been faced with a similar situation with Maggie Mae, I knew this was but an opportunity to embrace our beloved partner one last time. We fed him scrambled eggs, chicken, and steak. Sadly, his appetite had waned to the point where even these delicacies did not evoke significant interest. He slept next to me in bed for several hours that last night until we both became too warm. And the morning routine was as normal as it could have been.

We drove to Dr. Jan’s office and laid in the grass out front. She came out and gave Lance a brief examination before confirming our lay-diagnosis. It was time for him to be at rest. After a sedative, she injected the solution that would stop his heart and bring his fight against the indignities of old age to an end. We cried as he passed and I am shedding tears as I write this. While my head was prepared for this moment, the heart never is and it matters not whether the patient is an animal or human. The finality of death, even under the most humane circumstances, takes an emotional toll. 

Even though we still have 3 dogs in our menagerie, the loss of Lance is deep and cannot be filled by a surrogate. Yes, we will heal and move on, but we will always remember him as well as all others we have lost: a unique, irreplaceable individual. There are those we describe as something other than “dog people” who may read this and wonder why it’s such a big deal. I can’t (nor will I even try to) explain such a loss to them for they simply do not get it. I think of them as young souls who have yet to appreciate the unconditional love a canine brings to a relationship. After all, shouldn’t we all strive to be as forgiving? Maybe in time, as their own soul ages, but in the meantime I can only shrug and shake my head.

And since I’m waxing theologically, I believe in one thing after death: the Rainbow Bridge. Google it if you’re curious, but I assure you that most “dog people” are fully aware of its existence and believe in it, too. Let me just say that it is a place where I will be reunited with the dogs of my earthly life after I die. Crazy? Well, if you’ve ever experienced the joy a dog can bring into your life you know that it just wouldn’t be Heaven without them.

I sense one more Collie in my future: a tri-color rough male named Payson. I’ve never had a tri and paying tribute to the author that so enriched my life is a no-brainer. Not today or tomorrow, but someday, hopefully. 

Either way, such thoughts are for another time. This time belongs to Lance: much more than a mere substitute. A noble companion in his own right and without peer. Rest easy, my dear friend. We will meet again...

An Update on My Hiatus

For those loyalists out there, I'm not lying in a fetal position in the corner of a darkened room. I am in the early stages of my so-called "Big Adventure": a cross-country around the country in my airplane and a bit of storm chasing thrown in for good measure. As I write this, I'm in the hotel laundry room in Liberal, KS (I know: the ultimate oxymoron) awaiting a final decision regarding next week's storm chasing. The weather, while initially promising, has fallen apart and we may have to postpone the chase. You can catch up and follow along at my Facebook Page, G. Bruce Hedlund.

THe writing respite has done me good, though, and I look forward to returning to this site upon my return (with a few important changes in it's presentation). In the meantime, take care and take charge!

Upon Further Review

We’ve all heard of writer’s block, but until last week I had never really experienced it. Frustrated, I considered taking down my “It’s NOT Just You!” shingle. I heard from an audience member today who admonished me soundly for such thinking. I was told, in no uncertain terms, that I could not quit and I was not fired. So what choice do I have but to continue sharing my thoughts with at least one person each week.

The reader went on to suggest I take a “fake-ation”. I’ve never heard, nor used, the term, but being of reasonable intelligence and imagination I inferred that a hiatus was due me. And a hiatus I will take.

It will not be idly spent, though. I am still in the midst of establishing Cox-Ükr Wine  (Cox-UkrWine.com) as a rare combination of unique labeling and great wine. Funny how some choose to pronounce it, but who am I to judge?

Additionally, on May 1st I will embark on an around the country cross-country in my Cirrus SR22. My goal is to land at least once in each of the contiguous 48 states. Some stops figure prominently in my history while others will be at random. This journey will take a brief respite in Amarillo, TX on May 8th where I will begin 5 days of storm chasing. Then, should I survive that adventure, my flights will continue eastward. And the entire trek will be briefly chronicled daily on my Facebook Page for those that may want to keep an eye on me.

The idea is to put everything together in a book interspersed with various and sundry anecdotes from my careers in military and airline aviation. The project is attractive and I hope I can pull it off and then put it down in a format that others find enjoyable and informative.

So much for a fake-ation, huh? But, hey, I’ve been writing every week for over three years so I think a break is in order. Hell, Europeans take six weeks off every year. Of course, their economies are all fucked up, so maybe they should emulate the worker bees in the USA. (Of course, our economy is all fucked up, so who’s to say?)

My thanks to the one that saw fit to reach out and give me the kick in the pants that I apparently needed. And we all do from time to time, you know. Otherwise, the bastards get us down and we can have none of that!

Time for a Break

For over three years I have found a suitable talking point for our weekly chat. Today, though, I’m coming up dry. Well, dry is not the word since many things clutter my mind with varying degrees of wonderment and frustration. Corporate greed, political machinations that amount to the single creed of “the enemy of my enemy is my friend”, societal mutations that result in “stand your ground” legislation, and countless other facets of our day-to-day life have ganged up on me and I am left with but one acronym: AFU.

The A represents “All” and the U is “Up”. I’ll leave it to your level of acceptability in deciphering the “F”. While I may sound hopeless, nothing could be farther from the truth. I am pleasantly surprised that the power of social networks has manifested itself in sites like Change.org or Credo.org. AmericansElect threatens to upset the two-party status quo regardless of its ultimate success or failure. And who can argue that, without the internet, the Arab Spring would never have come to pass?

No, there’s much to be hopeful for, but I am still feeling overwhelmed at how myopic we can be. While many are in favor of health insurance for pre-existing conditions and keeping kids on family policies until reaching the age of 26, many more are opposed to the mandate that pays for such improvements. Time and time again, we want, but we don’t want to pay.

Where does it stop? When do we realize that the free lunch never existed and come to grips about what kind of country we want. We listen to viewpoints that we agree with so those opinions are never challenged and grow stronger through reinforcement regardless of their legitimacy. Obama’s a muslim...Saddam Hussein attacked us on 9-11...global warming is a hoax. The list not only goes on, but gets longer as half-truths and worse are foisted upon us in the name of advancing a particular hidden agenda.

So I’m taking a break, folks. Time will tell if I pick up the proverbial pen again. I guess that’s up to you, the loyal reader. I don’t know if you exist, but if you do please let me know. Everyone needs an occasional word of encouragement or, perhaps, a cyber-pat on the back. Regardless, I promise to continue questioning the insanities and incongruities that thrive only through our indifference. I hope you do the same.

A Little This...A Little That

Many thoughts have gone through my mind this week, but I could not find a way to turn even one into more than a brief discussion. So how about us taking a brief look at them all, shall we?

The Price of Gas: As the cost per gallon goes up, Obama’s approval goes down. Related? Perhaps. Appropriate? Probably not. Most folks knowledgable about such things spread the blame around. First of all, the US is but a player in the global oil market as China and other developing nations are controlling the price by the amount of oil they require. US consumption is down while domestic production is up. So our ability to affect the market is limited. Add the speculation factor and you tack on what some calculate to be 50 cents a gallon. And before you complain about such gambling on commodity futures, take a look at your investments. Most mutual funds have some of their money in the oil market. So, yes, the price of gas goes up, and, yes, you contribute to it through your “investment” choices. Higher rates of return or lower gas prices: which way to go?

Presidential Powers: Many think the President is omnipotent. They are wrong. The President cannot write a law nor pass a law nor enforce a law. A president can only speak and, through this line of communication, hope to bring associated legislation to reality. Why is it, then, that every candidate for this office experiences numerous stumbles when speaking? Practically every day of the Republican primary process at least one candidate comes out with a “what I meant to say” retraction. These are veteran politicians with teams of handlers and preparers who are paid to avoid such gaffes. Are they filled with hubris? If not, then how can we expect them to do a better job when elected?

Campaign Rhetoric: Promises abound during political campaigning. Shouldn’t there be a penalty for promising things that one cannot deliver upon? Take the abolishment of the new national healthcare laws. A newly elected president cannot simply wave it away on day one yet that is what the Republican hopefuls would like us to believe. How about a financial penalty for such statements with the funds going to the opposing party’s coffers?

The Run Away Law: How about a law that mandates the fleeing from a situation where one feels threatened? Kind of an homage to Monty Python’s Life of Brian: “Run away! Run Away!” It’s no more foolish than the “Stand Your Ground” laws that are now getting a well deserved second look. The last thing we need, I’d say, is armed citizens looking to make up for what is seen as ineffective law enforcement. Just the thought makes me feel threatened!

Pizza: Pizza consists of crust (bread), sauce, and some toppings. Can anyone tell me why breadsticks are offered as a side? Isn’t there enough bread already? And the dipping sauce is the same as what’s on the crust! How about taking a piece of crust and dragging it through the top of the pizza? Voila: a stick of bread and a dipping sauce! And if you need some cinnamon bread sticks for dessert you need to rethink your dietary choices.

Well, I don’t know about you, but I feel better. Not a lot, mind you, but a little. It seems more and more daunting to come to grips with the weekly events of outrage and injustice and insanity. Maybe I need break...

Breaking Point

Hardly a week goes by without hearing of some sort of supposedly random and unexpected violence. Shootings in the workplace or school are more and more common. Most recently, a soldier in Afghanistan killed 16 civilians in a seemingly unprovoked killing spree.

Generally speaking, the perpetrators of these acts are described as normal, more or less, and have no history of such aberrant behavior. My question is whether the behavior represents an illness or merely a symptom of an underlying problem.

First of all, past practice serves no good purpose in trying to explain a sudden shift in temperament. Every killer, rapist, robber, or what-have-you was fine until they weren’t and that first anti-social act, regardless of age, came as more or less of a surprise to those familiar with the individual.

Have you ever snapped? I venture to say yes because we all have come to that “final straw” and reacted somewhat out of our ordinary character: thrown tools, expletives spewn out in abundance, or any other red-faced, fist clenching response to something gone awry. In extreme cases, perhaps a fist through the wall, but most of us have a firmer grip on ourselves and find a way to release the pent up steam without exacting a toll on our physical surroundings.

Others, unfortunately, have reached a point where more moderate methods seem of little use and a higher level of retribution is called for. Now is that because the individual is wired differently than most or simply a stronger response to a more severe set of circumstances is required? No one knows how much can be taken until that point is reached. And then...SNAP...our once normal neighbor is on a mission to inflict great harm. Sometimes that rage is directed against specific individuals and other times it is random. Regardless, the boiling point has been reached and cool, calm logic is replaced by blind, knee-jerk reaction.

Over the past several years, historically well-adjusted folks have found themselves unemployed and underwater in their homes. The ensuing stress causes breakdowns in marriages which only leads to more despair and more stress. The GI accused of the 16 Afghan deaths was on his fourth tour to the Middle East, the previous three to Iraq. Let that sink in: the FOURTH tour! I cannot picture a more stressful situation than surviving in a war zone for one tour or maybe two, but three? Or, god forbid, four? It has been reported that his marriage was also in trouble. Gee, I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why.

Yes, these folks are sick, but from what affliction? Is it an internal disconnect brought on by some genetic predisposition or could it be from the ever-increasing sense of hopelessness as they watch their aspirations for today and tomorrow crumble around them? From the teen who’s bullied to the battle-hardened veteran: perhaps they found themselves at a tipping point where right was wrong and good was evil. In this topsy-turvy world without structure, all things become equally plausible and I’d suggest that, in these cases, those who create victims are victims themselves.

It doesn’t take a military master-mind to decide that four combat tours are at least two too many. Yet we will now hear of studies exploring that hypothesis (at least until the furor abates). And, in the meantime, soldiers will be rotated through numerous combat deployments. Recognizing unacceptable levels of the crap heaped upon us by society, however, is harder to predict. 

Don’t get me wrong: acts of this nature can be neither excused nor condoned. Let us agree, though, to consider the greater scheme of things as we try to explain their root causes. As the world gets smaller and faster, the demands placed upon us seem to grow by the day making it harder to find that ray of sunshine through the clouds of disappointment and disillusion. And, as a result, the breaking point for many of us may be but a heartbeat away.

The Dreaded 10%

It’s only Wednesday as I write this, but I’m sure that nothing of greater import will arise between now and Sunday. Sarah Palin could run away with Newt Gingrich (sorry, Callista) to form a blockbuster ticket and even that would not sway me from my present frame of mind. I’m talking about the infamous 10%. You know: the portion of any project that consumes 90% of the time to complete it. I’m writing this in the first person to avoid using the word “you”, but you know as well as I that you’ve been there, too.

I’m not fond of hills, other than looking at them. I don’t like running on them nor walking on them for an inordinate distance. Needless to say, I don’t care much for working on them, either. Yet I live in the Sierra foothills! My property’s topography is what a real estate agent would call “rolling”. That’s a marketing term for “you’d better get in shape, Bucko”.

And most of my hills support a variety of oak trees. Some are grand while others are gnarled, growing almost sideways in search of sunlight. Over time, I’ve taken some of these trees down. Then I cut the thinner branches, etc. off and create burn piles. This takes some time as I usually convince myself that it will be easier when the leaves die. This is a lie and I know it’s a lie when I think it. Nevertheless, I wait for a more opportune time to limb and drag into a pile.

Meanwhile, the parts of the tree destined for my firewood supply sit on the hillside awaiting some day in the dim future when they will be dragged down the hill, cut up into manageable size, and stacked properly. This portion generally amounts to that 10%. As this week’s column idea came to me, I thought it only proper that I got down on one particular hillside and drag, push, pull, throw, or carry the wood to the bottom where I could use my chain saw without fear of losing my balance or an appendage.

The problem is that when I get to this 10% of the greater project, it expands to  a 100% proposition. This allows me to negotiate with myself so I can quit, yet again, without attaining the Mission Complete merit badge. But try as I might to find a reason to quit, I saw this task through to the bitter end. Maybe because I knew I’d have to own up to yet another delay before posting this piece.

And I’m not done yet! The wood now lies at the bottom of the hill, mocking me as if it is anxious to be burned. Since my fire wood supply is dwindling and spring is not quite in the air, I fully expect to render the larger sections into wood-stove ready pieces before the week is out.

I think we all suffer from ADD when it comes to projects. Even minor household honey-do’s end up with the tools on the kitchen counter instead of back on the work bench in the garage. We’ll get to that, you know, but not right now. Maybe when we need that tool for the next project (if we can remember where we left it from the last one).

I hate that last 10%. It reminds me that no chore is ever done, no matter how hard I try. Or, to be more precise, no matter how hard I don’t try because there’s something else I need to do over here (oh, look: a squirrel!). So there you have it: the last, dreaded 10% that sometimes never gets done. And, if it does, it’s not in any kind of timely manner. Armed with this information, you’d think I could do better. I don’t. Maybe I will, but I doubt it. Maybe it’s just a law of nature. Or just one of many human failings. Either way, can any political or corporate headline trump this gem of knowledge? I think not...

(Addendum: it is now Sunday afternoon as I post this. No, the woodpile at the bottom of the hill has not been completely dealt with, but I think I’m down to the last 10%.)

Devastation

It was hard to miss reports of this past week’s carnage as severe storms and tornadoes tore through sections of the country. Some communities were destroyed while others experienced less destruction. Nevertheless, most of those affected, be they individuals, neighborhoods, or whole cities used the word “devastation” in describing the effects of the storms. And appropriately so, I’d say, in light of the after-effects.

Unfortunately, such devastation occurs regularly at the hand of less unpredictable forces as Mother Nature. In these cases, the lives and expectations of individuals are dashed as their employers find it easier to abrogate than accommodate. Two of the most recent examples are American Airlines and the city of Stockton, California.

You may have heard of Stockton if you follow the foreclosure mess as it has made an inauspicious name for itself as having the second highest rate in the nation. As homes foreclosed, other home values decreased and city coffers drained quicker than they could be refilled with tax revenue. The city is now preparing for a bankruptcy filing. American Airlines (my professional alma mater) filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection on November 29 of last year. (At that time, the company had more than 4 billion dollars in the bank.)

While one entity is a municipality and the other a corporation, their thinking is eerily similar: utilizing the courts to renege on promises made to their respective constituencies and customers in the past. Both signed contracts with their employees and vendors that now, apparently, are inconvenient to honor. Times are tough and there is no time left to renegotiate more affordable terms so why not go to the bankruptcy court and just throw them out?

These scenarios are just the latest of many and did not happen overnight. In some cases, contractual benefits were based upon unrealistic cash flow assumptions while others involved management teams that had so polluted the atmosphere of cooperation that negotiation was out of the question. Stockton falls into the first category while AA falls into the second.

Think back to the UAW contracts signed with the Big 3 auto manufacturers. To guarantee life-long pensions and health care to an ever growing retiree base while funding that promise by a fixed (or lesser) number of employees is bound to fail at some tipping point. Public employee unions have found similar largesse in their contracts with cities that was predicated on an ever-growing cash stream from tax revenues. With the housing crash, that money has stopped flowing.

I can’t help but think that every principal involved in these agreements knew that someday this house of cards would come crashing down, but they also knew that they’d be on a beach somewhere when it did. Politicians and union chiefs alike were rewarded with re-election and life was good. Until the train came off the tracks, that is.

In 2003 American Airlines negotiated significant reductions in pay and benefits with their unionized employees. It rallied support under the banner of “Pull Together, Win Together” and, in so doing, avoided the trip into bankruptcy. As the balance sheet improved, however, the 2003 contracts remained in force while upper management began to receive yearly bonuses. Instead of unilaterally improving the contracts, management seemed to ignore their previous mantra and concentrated in creating machinations that increased their annual “performance” payoff when, in fact, the airline’s performance was mired near the bottom of most categories. This attitude has resulted in an employee group deaf to pleas of “we need your help now” and “you’re important to us”.

As I stated earlier, these two examples are far from the first and, more than likely, far from the last. Even Social Security is threatened without tweaking due to the same tipping point in number of beneficiaries versus wage earners paying into the system. In each and every case, though, the results are the same: devastation.

Present day and future plans are thrown onto the rocks as paychecks and pensions are reduced and eliminated. Spouses return to the workforce to make up for some of the shortfall. Children find themselves leaving private schools for public ones and reconsidering their options for higher education. Retirement planning can be put off, of course, because many find that they can no longer retire at an age that once seemed affordable. Ironically, many of the perpetrators maintain their positions despite the fact that they were at the helm when the ship hit the reef. Funny how that works, huh?

While seeing my home destroyed by a tornado or earthquake or forest fire is devastating on many fronts, I’d find it infinitely harder to take a corporate or civic failure in stride. We all know that the forces of nature are whimsical and random. Our corporate and political leaders, on the other hand, should be capable of recognizing the hazards of their enterprise and avoiding them. And if they don’t, I would expect that they experience a similar fate as those under their supervision.