Black Friday, Cindy Crawford in a Swimsuit, and Karen

“We can stand here like the French, or we can do something about it.” – Marge Simpson

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Okay, I used this last year.  But, really, fizzy toots?  It’s a holiday classic.

Thanksgiving morning I was in bed, in that half-slumber that I slip into when there’s no danger that I have to go to work.  The Mrs. stirred next to me.

“When’s the turkey going to be done?”

John Wilder:  “Yeah, babe, when is the turkey going to be done?”

The Mrs.:  “No, I mean it.  I have some other things I need to cook.  When will the turkey be done?”

John Wilder:  “Ohhhhh, I haven’t put it in the oven yet.  I thought, as much as you were making six other dishes, that you were gonna do the turkey, too.”

This was, of course, a stupid idea.  I have cooked the turkey every year, ever, since we’ve been married.  Everything else (except pumpkin pies) has been The Mrs.  Why would I assume that The Mrs. was going to cook the turkey?

I have no idea.  But I did.

We Wilders are night owls, when allowed to go feral unconstrained by the tyranny of work, so having a dinner at supper time (or a supper at dinner time) would just be fine.  Since we bought everything we’d need for dinner yesterday, I knew we’d be fine – no last minute trips to stores for us, and that was good.

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Reprinted with permission, now 50% off!

Because I hate going to the store – especially anytime between Thanksgiving and Christmas.  I hate it so much, that when I was (much) younger, I’d do all of my shopping for presents during a two hour period on Christmas Eve.  But yet, there are people who look forward to Black Friday, which to me is the sort of hell I imagine that H.P. Lovecraft reserved for Beto O’Rourke, except Beto’s hair would be on fire and he would have surgically attached flippers instead of arms.

Black Friday is a day that some people look forward to.  While I don’t share in their enthusiasm, I can understand it.  There is something about shopping that makes people feel good, unlike the turkey tartare I tried to serve the family on Thanksgiving.  Who knew you had to thaw the turkey before sticking it in the oven?

Shopping is of vital importance to businesses – they want to capture as much of your money as possible.  They study ways to arrange merchandise so it is most attractive, to create advertisements that engage with your psychology to drive you to purchase, and purchase from them.  If you look at shopping as a science, shopping has been studied by economists, business majors, and psychologists more thoroughly than I studied Cindy Crawford’s, umm, charm, in my younger days.

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Remember, actresses are different than models – actresses can read.  Also, I don’t know if I can fit an actress in the basement freezer.

Again, I don’t begrudge people who are on a tight or fixed budget that are attempting to get a good deal – that would be heartless.  But yet, isn’t Black Friday based at least in part in . . . greed?

The idea of getting a 65” 4K Philips® television for $278 when it normally retails for $448 is the essence of Black Friday.   $10 Crock© pots with a $10 mail-in rebate are Black Friday.

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If you buy three Rose Tico™ figures, you’ll spike worldwide sales by 3000%, and give Disney® hope that Star Wars:  The Ruse of Soywalker© will be successful!

Why do we get such satisfaction over buying things?

  • It is wired into us – once upon a time, we were hunter/gatherers. This is similar – shopping is  Hunting is still hunting, which is good.  Work?  Work is where men go to avoid gathering and think about hunting.
  • Shopping distracts us from our problems. If we’re worried or sad?  “Retail therapy” can be cheap – if you have inexpensive tastes.  But when the shopping is done – if you have a real problem like having surgically attached flipper arms – they’re still there.
  • In today’s world, there are a lot of people that live lives that are marked by a nearly complete lack of control. They’re controlled by spouses at home, bosses at work, and the number of choices that the own are small.  Shopping gives them a sense of control.

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There was a hurricane this year named Karen.  Managers everywhere quaked with fear.

  • Instant satisfaction is built into shopping. Why wait for later, when you can have it now (or in 36 hours with Amazon© Primeâ„¢)?  Rather than wait for what your goal is, you can have some smaller thing now.  And it’s certain.  Who cares if it derails your longer term plans?
  • Shopping for neat things floods your brain with serotonin like an autistic clown with a firehose. Serotonin stabilizes mood, so if you’re depressed, shopping can make you feel better, and you don’t need a prescription for Xanax®.
  • Shopping resolves boredom. Kids doing well in school, job going well, no financial problems and relationship with spouse is fine?  So boring.  Hey, let’s spice life up by shopping for things we don’t need!
  • When we lived in Alaska, we would go to auctions because it was fun. Every so often some family would say, “That’s it!” and decide to move to the Lower 48.  Thus?    I bid $70 on a table saw that I could have bought for (drumroll) $70 – yes, it was a pretty crappy saw.  Why?  Scarcity.  People were bidding, and, well, I won.  And scarcity is the true key to Black Friday.  Only seven fruitcake-toasters at $92 off the retail price of $292?  I must have one!

Most vices, when kept in check, aren’t a problem.   But Black Friday seems like a drug that’s designed to take advantage of the various “satisfactions” listed in the bullet points above.  Thankfully, there are other cures.

We live in a society where most of the basic needs are easily met for most people, at least for now.  Yes, you might not have a 65” LED television that doubles as a tanning bed.  But nearly everyone has food.  Nearly everyone has power, heat, and access to a library.  How else could people spend those same hours and minutes that would otherwise be spent in a WWE®-level fight over an inexpensive radium-powered popcorn popper and a coal-powered flashlight?

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In breaking news:  Coroners report that Jeff Epstein was injured at a Black Friday sale.

They could write.  They could visit a sick family member.  They could face digestive difficulties because Dad put the frozen turkey in the oven.  They could play cards or board games and have family fun.

Oh, wait – that describes the Wilder family.  I really should have realized that putting a turkey filled with ice into the oven wasn’t my best idea . . . .

Axis and Allies®, anyone?  I have Pepto®.

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“Going to war without France is like going deer hunting without your accordion.” – Norman Schwarzkopf

Happy Thanksgiving 2019: Including Booze, Zombies, Joan Crawford, and George Washington

“Thanksgiving is falling on a Thursday this year?” – Home Improvement

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You can make more friends with six bottles of wine and a kind word than with just a kind word.  I think that is somewhere in the Bible?

Thanksgiving is, I think, my favorite holiday.  When done properly, it is a holiday devoted to, well, giving thanks.  It’s like a super easy quiz question – what you’re supposed to do is right in the label.

When I was growing up I certainly looked forward to getting presents at Christmas.  But the very presents that made Christmas so exciting when I was five or six somehow detracted from the holiday when I was eleven or twelve.  Getting presents was still nice, but when it came to serenity, nothing matched Thanksgiving.  At a younger age, presents were more important than serenity.  As I grew older?  Serenity took a lead.   Now?  Serenity is miles ahead of presents.

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Ma Wilder saved the tins.  I have no idea why.  Also?  Better if the sauce is not too blue.

I should point out, that when growing up, I lived in our mountain redoubt, Wilder’s Nest.  The nearest town that had a fast food restaurant was 45 miles away.  The nearest store that you could buy a cassette tape at was 45 miles away in that same town.  In a radius of 10 miles from my house, the total population was probably 200 people or less.  It was so rural that I thought laughing stock were amused cattle.

But Black Friday didn’t exist.  Shopping the day after Thanksgiving?  Nope – in fact if we left the property at all (besides driving 30 miles to pick up Grandma Wilder to bring her to Thanksgiving dinner and drop her off afterwards back at her place) it would be to see how deep the snow was up on the pass.  Not that we didn’t go outside – on Thanksgiving day my brother and I would often throw a football in the front yard, if it wasn’t too cold.  And as the youngest, it was my job to bring firewood from the pile to the house.

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You have to be very careful hanging coats at Joan’s house.  Apologies to Blue Oyster Cult®.

What we did do, however, was be together as a family.  We played cards.  We (minus Ma Wilder) watched football.  I read novels.  Pa Wilder might fiddle in the shop with something, especially if Ma Wilder was irritated about something.  It was past hunting season, but too soon for snowmachines.  The weekend was quiet.  And not quiet like hanging out in the bushes at the neighbor’s bedroom window quiet, I mean really quiet.

I can’t say that Christmas was quiet.  Heck, it’s not quiet now.  And while most Thanksgiving holidays looked the same, Christmas was often much more memorable – but memorable for the wrong reason.  My junior year left me as mad as I can remember after a Christmas, and not because I didn’t get what I wanted.  But I can’t remember a bad Thanksgiving.

Even now, Thanksgiving has always been a relaxing day for The Mrs. and I – we never let it be dictated by outside forces – Thanksgiving is a family holiday – our immediate family.  Since we’ve been in Mayberry, we certainly do have dinner often with my in-laws, but if we decided to go to Nepal to have tea with Liam Neeson so he can paint our toenails again, well, we’d do that.  On Christmas, we give into that pressure.  But not on Thanksgiving.

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I resent vegans.  They eat the food my food eats.  So inconsiderate.

But the name is Thanksgiving.  Being thankful, having gratitude for the things around you is very healthy.  People who are grateful are more healthy, have better relationships, sleep better, and have better self-esteem whether or not they get a participation trophy.

What am I thankful for?

  • My family.
  • The fact that my family puts up with me.
  • Canned corn.
  • The relative prosperity I live in and my economic situation.
  • The readers of this blog.
  • That the aliens from Tau Ceti no longer come at night and impregnate me.
  • That the aliens from Tau Ceti pay child support for the stupid alien babies.
  • That we have the freedom that we do have in our country today.
  • That The Mrs. uses a snow-globe instead of her glass eye during the holidays.
  • That the troubles I have had in life have made me better.
  • That I still see amazing things every day – a great sunrise, a tree silhouetted against the stars.
  • The health of my family.
  • People being kind when they have no reason to be.
  • That every week I get to learn something new, and make something new.

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Okay, the two of you that saw Firefly® are laughing.

George Washington tried to capture the essence of Thanksgiving in his first proclamation:

By the President of the United States of America, a Proclamation.

Whereas it is the duty of all Nations to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey his will, to be grateful for his benefits, and humbly to implore his protection and favor and whereas both Houses of Congress have by their joint Committee requested me to recommend to the People of the United States a day of public thanksgiving and prayer to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many signal favors of Almighty God especially by affording them an opportunity peaceably to establish a form of government for their safety and happiness.

Now therefore I do recommend and assign Thursday the 26th day of November next to be devoted by the People of these States to the service of that great and glorious Being, who is the beneficent Author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be.  That we may then all unite in rendering unto him our sincere and humble thanks:

  • for his kind care and protection of the People of this Country previous to their becoming a Nation
  • for the signal and manifold mercies, and the favorable interpositions of his Providence which we experienced in the course and conclusion of the late war
  • for the great degree of tranquility, union, and plenty, which we have since enjoyed
  • for the peaceable and rational manner, in which we have been enabled to establish constitutions of government for our safety and happiness, and particularly the national one now lately instituted
  • for the civil and religious liberty with which we are blessed; and the means we have of acquiring and diffusing useful knowledge;
  • and in general for all the great and various favors which he hath been pleased to confer upon us.

And also that we may then unite in most humbly offering our prayers and supplications to the great Lord and Ruler of Nations and beseech him to pardon our national and other transgressions:

  • to enable us all, whether in public or private stations, to perform our several and relative duties properly and punctually
  • to render our national government a blessing to all the people, by constantly being a Government of wise, just, and constitutional laws, discreetly and faithfully executed and obeyed
  • to protect and guide all Sovereigns and Nations (especially such as have shewn kindness unto us) and to bless them with good government, peace, and concord
  • to promote the knowledge and practice of true religion and virtue, and the encrease of science among them and us
  • and generally to grant unto all Mankind such a degree of temporal prosperity as he alone knows to be best.

Given under my hand at the City of New York the third day of October in the year of our Lord 1789.

Geo. Washington

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George Washington spent about 10% of his presidential salary on whiskey.  He had more than one gun.  He grew tobacco.  So, is the ATF proof of British collusion?

I know that George isn’t universally loved:  Lord Bison, for instance, is not amused.  But Washington did do some things right, and set a precedent that more or less set the stage for retaining the freedoms we still have left, and has the best eggnog recipe (Washington: Musk, Patton, and Jack Daniels all Rolled into . . . the ONE).  And as to his proclamation of Thanksgiving:  I’m not sure that a similar document could be written today, especially since we have spellcheck.

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It’s well known that zombies will ignore Congress.  They want to eat brains, right?

Regardless of what you are thankful for, I wish you a very happy Thanksgiving!

Holiday Stress and Why You Don’t Need It, Featuring a Beer Drinking Baby

“Jen, if this needle goes past here, you’re fired.  Does that make you feel stressed at all?  Does it?  Jen? Are you sure?  Jen?  Does it?  Are you sure?  Are you sure?  Are you sure?” – IT Crowd

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Playing triangle in a band is something a Jamaican won’t do, mon.  It stresses them out to be responsible for every ting.

There is a love/hate relationship with the Holidays.  By the Holidays, I really mean Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve – and not any of the other 107 holidays in November or 69 holidays in December our crack Wilder research team was able to find with one Google® search.  There are (really) days like National Cookie Day on December 4, International Ninja Day on December 5, and National Salesperson Day on December 13.  National Salesperson Day?  I’m not buying that one.

One reason we love the Holidays is how we looked forward to them when we were kids.  The Holidays meant, at the minimum, time off from school.  In the American Dream Household®, there was time for snowmen, sledding, and mugs of hot chocolate while we sang Christmas carols for our neighbors.  On top of all of that, there was the smell of turkey on Thanksgiving, the tantalizing secrets of the wrapped mysteries under the Christmas tree, and the miracle of pulling Uncle Vern’s finger.

Okay, our neighbors had concertina wire and watch towers, so we couldn’t get within a quarter mile of their houses without the password.  I’m sure we would have belted out a few Christmas carols if they hadn’t fired those warning shots.

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I did accomplish one thing last Christmas.  I won the Netflix® marathon.

As I got older, the hate part of the Holidays begins to show up:  stress from bills, stress from dealing with corporate Christmas parties, stress from having to decide which sets of parents get which visits on which days, stress from having to deal with relatives that you’d rather never see again, and stress from hiding the bodies of those relatives you will never see again.

Some people get hit so badly with this stress that they actually panic.  And panic can be a serious mental illness, not carefree and happy go lucky like the ones I have.  But I gave up on being upset at Christmas years ago.

I’ve learned the secret:  I don’t care.

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I will say, the FBI looked more competent in Die Hard than they have for the last three years . . . .

Okay, that’s not entirely true, I do care.  But I choose what I care about.  And I choose what I don’t care about.

You see, the old line that “Aging is a matter of mind.  If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter,” slightly modified, applies here as well.  I’ll customize it a bit:  “Holidays:  If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.”

I think the biggest problem that most people have is high standards.  High standards are a gateway to constant disappointment.  If your life is wrapped around making the holiday perfect, then you’ll stress yourself out by trying to make the holiday perfect.  And then?  When you fail to achieve perfection?  Your stress will increase that much more.  Your stress might then turn from disappointment to depression, which I admire, because that shows real dedication that you don’t seen in those millennial kids nowadays.

As bad as that quest for perfection is, it can be even worse than that – often people want to view perfection not through their own standards, but through the views of other people.  Now, on top of trying to meet your standards, you have to imagine what the standards of other people might be, and try to figure out how to meet those as well.  It’s why Bill Clinton doesn’t do threesomes – if he wanted to disappoint two people at the same time, he could have just taken Hillary out for dinner.

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Bill was especially disappointed when Hillary lost because he realized he wouldn’t get a fresh batch of interns.

However, you can make the conscious choice to not choose perfection.  What happens if you don’t care if the turkey isn’t perfect?  What happens if you don’t care if other people are upset?

Well, nothing.

Certainly, there’s something on my list above from bills to parties to relatives that is (or was) on your list.  Me?  Sure, I’ve had a disappointment or two, and yes, I’ve gotten stressed a time or two.  But not recently.

If you’re feeling stressed at the holidays, the Internet will tell you to do lots of things.  The top five tips (really!) on one particular site?

  • Take a walk in the sunlight.
  • Smell citrus.
  • Take yet another walk. (Yes, it was item one, and also item three.)
  • Take a supplement.
  • Squeeze between your thumb and forefinger.

Yes.  These will all certainly help – help a journalist on a deadline come up with a “unique” take on holiday stress.  I’ll admit, out of the 27 or so tips, there were some good ones.  But when “Take a whiff of citrus” is in your top two ideas for dealing with stress?  That’s almost as bad an idea as when they decided to put an “s” in lisp.

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A journalist, an anthropologist, and a philosopher walk into a bar.  The bartender says, “Hey Anderson, still no job?”

Between now and the New Year, we’ll probably not get farther than 90 miles from the house, and that will be to celebrate Penultimate Day (Happy Penultimate Day 2018, and the Biggest Story of 2018: Societal Trust).  We’ll spend time with people we like, and not people we have to spend time with.

Might there be some stress?  Sure.  That happens.  But only if I want it to.

34 Random Thoughts About The Economy, Money, and Jobs

“Well, Saddam owed us money.” – Arrested Development

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Maybe I should get more sleep.

It’s nearly Thanksgiving, and the next few weeks will be busy.  Now that The Boy is off at college and no longer engaged in half a dozen activities, we’re down to just having to chase Pugsley around.  Not so busy that there won’t be a full slate of posts – those are planned for the next few weeks, barring a change based on current events or me being distracted by shiny objects.

Today, though, I thought I’d change it up a bit, so here are a few random thoughts on business, economics, and wealth.

  1. The last economic crash was about a housing bubble. The next economic crash will be about our “everything” bubble where money flows faster to chase smaller and smaller returns.
  2. The biggest thing to crash after the next bubble pops will be money. It’s never fun when the value of money drops to zero, since having a little inflation is like being a little pregnant – not much happens at the beginning, but by the end everyone is yelling and screaming and covered in blood.
  3. The next economic crash will be the biggest in our lives.
  4. Or not. I’ve been wrong before.
  5. But I still think 2025 will be interesting.
  6. Most jobs don’t require thinking nowadays – they are a set of procedures and rules based on the lowest common denominator employee. The best jobs like this are at the DMV, which at least allow you to be mean and unpleasant, plus government benefits.
  7. Jobs that don’t require thinking can be paid at the lowest possible wage. If you’re lucky enough to be hired at Old MacDonald’s farm, I hope you can rise to the C-I-E-I-O position, but you’ll have to be out standing in your field.study.jpg
  8. Businesses that do things immorally don’t automatically fail because they do things immorally – many immoral and even evil businesses flourish. It’s only in the movies that the good guys always win.
  9. When I gave career advice to The Boy, I advised him to build expertise and skills in things that couldn’t be done over the Internet or by an outsourced employee working in a country where the native language consists only of vowels, grunts, and humming noises but yet has 355 terms for “waddle”.
  10. Always be worth more to your company than your company is paying you.
  11. “What have you done for me lately?” is a good and fair question from any boss.
  12. The second mouse gets the cheese in the trap. No, I’m not going first.
  13. If it’s choosing between money and honor, choose honor. The bills might be more difficult to pay, but at least you can look yourself in the mirror.  Until the power company cuts the electricity.
  14. Seriously though, choose honor.cat.jpg
  15. It’s the risk that you don’t take that you’ll regret. But you only hear successful people say that.
  16. Never build a business on what you love, since no one cares about medieval Norse poetry. Build a business on what you do that other people love and will pay for.  You’ll learn to love it.
  17. Capitalism works great to allocate spoils in an expanding market. Capitalism fails in a contracting one.  There’s nothing easy about the transition.
  18. Being short of money and optimistic about the future is better than having lots of cash and being pessimistic.rain.jpg
  19. Money can’t make you happy, but you can avoid most of life’s miseries by having a few hundred thousand dollars. Not every one of life’s miseries, but most of them.
  20. Whenever anyone says it’s not about the money, it’s really about the money.
  21. Whenever anyone says cost is no object, you can expect that statement to be proven false once the estimates arrive. Make them pay in advance.
  22. The reward for work well done is more work. This is actually a pretty good deal – we tend to buy video games built around this same premise.
  23. The rewards aren’t linear – the closer to the top, the greater the rewards. But you have to fight the big boss at the end before you retire.
  24. Great bosses are rarer than you might imagine. Most bosses are okay.  Some are awful.
  25. The worst kind of boss is a weak boss. They will praise you when you don’t deserve it and sell you out when you don’t.
  26. Teamwork makes it easy to blame someone else.
  27. In America, when two men meet, they ask “What do you do?” Too often we equate ourselves with “what we do,” while forgetting we get to choose who we are.  Unless you’re Johnny Depp, in which case you are stuck being Johnny Depp.question.jpg
  28. If you find yourself dreading the alarm clock and not wanting to go to work you go anyway. It’s your job.  If it’s too much?  Find another job or retire.
  29. True story: a friend of mine had a sister that decided to retire one day when she was about 30.  She was shocked when the checks stopped coming, she seemed to think that when you retired, the company had to keep paying you.  I think she’s a Bernie® voter now.
  30. Me? I’m trying to start thinking about retirement before my boss starts thinking about my retirement.pounds.jpg
  31. When I was first hired into a job, I heard a statistic that 70% of a typical workday for a typical employee was unproductive. I was shocked that the figure was so high.
  32. Now, after working for years, I’m shocked that the figure is so low. I tried to come up with jokes about lazy people, but they just won’t work.
  33. Meetings often happen just because they’re on the schedule. Look like you’re paying attention and don’t sleep, no matter how quickly it makes the meeting go.
  34. I had a friend who worked at the Unemployment Department who got fired. He still had to show up the next day.

Dare To Live Your Life And Scarring My Children For Life

“Now it was serious:  a double-dog-dare.  What else was there but a triple dare you?  And then, the coup de grace of all dares, the sinister triple-dog-dare.” – A Christmas Story

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Which is more daring, a pebble or a stick?  The pebble:  it’s a little boulder.

Almost 2,500 years ago, Thucydides said, “luck favors the daring.”  Thucydides is dead, so, really, what did he know anyway?  But part of being young is being daring – it’s on the label.  There are so many things that you know, especially things that aren’t so.  Life hasn’t yet given you curve balls and unexpected experiences

The lessons that you can learn from unexpected experiences can be helpful ones.  The first lesson I was ever taught in high school chemistry lab was:  “cold glass looks exactly like hot glass.”  The second lesson was “never trust a naked man selling slightly used sulfuric acid, you can never tell where the acid has been.”

But the biggest loss is when we let one bad experience create fear in our lives.  Let me explain:  One time when we were getting firewood back when we lived in Alaska, Five Year Old The Boy was tromping in the forest.  While jumping up and down on a little hill (five year old kids do that), The Boy managed to stir up a group of wasps that had burrowed into the ground there.  All of them, and I mean all of them, came out of the nest and swarmed The Boy like Japanese jets on Godzilla©, all while The Boy flapped his arms like Greta Thunberg™ on tweaking on meth.

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I would pay money to watch Greta in Marine boot camp – I’m sure the D.I. would nicely tell her, “As soon as you’re done getting your beauty sleep, princess, GET OFF OF MY OBSTACLE COURSE!”

After The Boy yelled “How dare you!” at the wasps, they left, because that technique always works.  The Mrs. and I calmed him down, and treated the bites.  The experience, however, was enough that The Boy was pretty scared of wasps – and there were a lot of them in Fairbanks that year.

So, one day after we had moved to Texas, we were in the backyard and just like in a cartoon, a beautiful butterfly had flown right up to The Boy.

“What is it?”  There were butterflies in Alaska, but none that was as amazing as this one.

“It’s a butterfly,” I responded.  His eyes lit up as he smiled at the colorful, delicate wings.  “They bite,” I added.  I had, of course, forgotten about The Boy being surrounded by wasps like ice weasels on a cheese wheel.  The Boy had not.

The Boy ran into the house, screaming.  The Mrs., who had observed every second, was not pleased.

Yes.  This really happened.  I made my son run screaming from a butterfly, so you know I had “Father of the Year” pretty much in the bag after that back in 2007.

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SJW means Social Justice Wasp?  Hmm.  Wasps have about the same temperament as Antifa©, but at least the wasps have jobs.

But there are many things in life where the first experience wasn’t great, but like The Boy’s fear of butterflies, you’ve learned the wrong lesson if you avoid butterflies because of wasps.  Mark Twain said it well:

We should be careful to get out of an experience only the wisdom that is in it and stop there lest we be like the cat that sits down on a hot stove lid.  She will never sit down on a hot stove lid again and that is well, but also she will never sit on a cold one anymore.

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Twain had to work out – he was constantly on the run later on in his life after assassinating Abraham Lincoln.  He also never wore shirts – he didn’t believe in concealed weapons.

Receivers in the game of football have to have a short memory – after coming across the middle, being hit by a linebacker at a combined velocity of 40 miles per hour, you’d never run another route again if you kept that in mind.  They even have a phrase that describes receivers who are jittery – they say they are “hearing footsteps” – they’re more concerned about being hit than playing the game.

And me – I had to have a short memory as well.  I’ve heard that Samuel Johnson said that a second marriage “is the triumph of hope over experience,” and that’s right.  It is.  And if I had spent too much time overthinking it?  I’d never have married The Mrs.

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Hmm.  Dr. Lechter Says.  New feature?

I think the key is optimism and a sense of confidence that the future will be okay.  I think that’s why older folks sometimes stop taking risks – they’ve had such a large number of experiences that they can see sixteen ways something that can go wrong.  A teenager learning to drive, however, sees no way to lose.  It’s only after experience that caution comes into play.

When was the last time you gave up an opportunity because you felt that it was too risky?  When was the last time you decided not to take a vacation because the last one was bad?  The minute you stop living in your life, taking risks, and knowing that the future will take care of itself, you’re dead even if you’re still breathing.

I think that most of the mistakes people make is in not being bold enough.  There is an advantage to trying, especially trying things you don’t know how to do.  Mark Twain said it well:

There are some things that can beat smartness and foresight.  Awkwardness and stupidity can.  The best swordsman in the world doesn’t need to fear the second best swordsman in the world.  No, the person for him to be afraid of is some ignorant antagonist who has never had a sword in his hand before.  He doesn’t do the thing he ought to do, and so the expert isn’t prepared for him.  He does the thing he ought not to do and often it catches the expert out and ends him on the spot.

So, in your life, you have one shot.  Do you want to regret not doing something in twenty years?  Come on – join me.  Convince all the grade school kids that butterflies bite.  Bonus points if you convince them that butterflies produce deadly poisons*.

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This may be the most Australian picture ever, but I’ll defer to Adam (LINK) and Tom (LINK).

*Not applicable in Australia, where literally everything wants to kill you, and even ladybugs can leap seven feet and have venom-tipped spikes for legs.

Bonus unrelated content – JP on Epstein:

Regrets? Don’t Regret Anything, Unless You Want Me To Slap You When You Are Old.

“Nothing leaves alive.” – Dreamcatcher

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See, now Darth Vader® has no regrets.  Except for being in Episode III.

I’ve never written anything before that made me want to go to a hospice and slap a bunch of old dying people, but this particular post led me there.  I’ll explain.  It’s okay, it’ll all make sense in the end.  I’m a trained professional.

I have made many mistakes in my life.  Most of them I don’t remember – they were small and didn’t have any consequences, or at least any consequences I’ve seen yet.

Then there were some slightly larger mistakes – let’s call them medium size mistakes.  There have been consequences to these.  Again, medium-sized mistakes most often lead to medium-sized consequences.  A scar here (carve away from your thumb, not towards it), a stock gone to zero there (thanks a lot, Enron®) and one really bad car trade when I was 24 . . . medium-sized.  Medium-sized mistakes are big enough for a big sting, but whatever permanent impacts there might be aren’t immediately fatal.

The biggest ones – I won’t give a laundry list of those.  Most of those were where either passion, inexperience, a momentary lapse of character or judgement, or (worst of all) when all three contributed to a mistake.  Some mistakes lasted longer, some were short.  But all stung.  The biggest include a marriage that led to divorce, underestimating a sociopathic boss, and wearing that white dress to my little sister’s wedding.  I mean, I look fabulous in it, but some brides just have to be the center of attention.  Also a bit weird because she wasn’t really my sister.

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Staaaaaart again . . . .

To put it bluntly, I am the author of almost every problem I have.  If I didn’t cause the problem, I’m probably complicit in creating the problem or not dealing with the problem.

But I don’t regret it.  None of it.  Not the victories, certainly, and not the failures.

Why?

Life is a one-shot deal.  And life is a ratchet.  It only turns one way – we can’t take anything back.

Regret isn’t a one-shot deal, though.  If there’s anything that will burn a hole in your soul, it’s regret.  Regret never comes alone – it brings guilt along for the ride.

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My biggest fear is having a heart attack during a game of charades.

If I were to dig more deeply into those feelings – regret and guilt are just ways that fear manifests itself.  Fear of . . . what?  Regret is a fear that the consequences of your choices or actions will impact you negatively, and cannot be changed.  Here is a list of some of the common regrets from people on their deathbed (from a former palliative care nurse named Bronnie Ware, and, yes, I spelled that right – blame her parents, not me):

  1. “I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.”
  2. “I wish I hadn’t worked so hard.”
  3. “I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.”
  4. “I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.”
  5. “I wish that I had let myself be happier.”

Even a quick look at this list tells me one simple thing:  regret is for losers.  I have never seen a whinier pack of self-serving weakness since I last watched a Democratic presidential debate.  Everything, absolutely everything on this “top five” list is just, well, sad.

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Me?  I’m still holding out hope for a pyramid.

Would you like to go to your grave worrying about any of those things?  I can’t imagine doing it.  I refuse to let regret rule me.  And I refuse to let any decision I made twenty years ago rule me.  Hell, I refuse to let any decision I made last week rule me, except for choosing that convenience store egg/muffin sandwich – I don’t need to explain why.  Deal with the consequences?  Certainly.  But regret?  No.

Let’s go down the “top five” list:

Not living a life “true to yourself”?  I’ve never heard such nonsense in my life.  I was talking with a guy the other day who quit his job because his boss asked him to do something illegal.  That’s being true to yourself – he walked away without a paycheck but with his values and beliefs intact.  If you’re not being true to yourself, you’re either weak or flighty.  The good news?  Anyone who reads this blog is neither.

Wishing you hadn’t “worked so hard”?  That’s also nonsense.  A soul thrives on doing good work that matters.  Doing good work excellently is hard.  The Mrs. teaches, and works hard at it – I can see from her talking about her students, talking about the ones who learned and improved, the ones who keep coming back to her classroom to report on their lives that her work matters.  Working hard at work that matters is what makes us the best humans we can be.  If you think you worked too hard, you weren’t doing anything worth doing.  The good news?  Change now.  You have an entire lifetime to fix that mistake.

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I got fired from the calendar factory.  They get really mad when you take a day off.

Didn’t have the “courage to express my feelings”?  Wow.  This is the weakest on the list, so far.  Number one:  do you have feelings that matter?  Most feelings are stupid – and I have stupid feelings, too.  Thankfully, I’m not a five year old – I am at least twelve.  I get to examine my feelings and reject those that don’t reflect my values, my virtue, my beliefs.  I get to choose.  If I feel slighted by something silly or petty?  I get to choose to understand what a fool I’m being and ignore that feeling.  Again, if you don’t express your feelings, that’s not always a bad thing.  Your feelings are often stupid.

I’m sorry that “staying in touch with your friends” was so hard.  But it’s really not.  The people you care about, that care about you, are there.  They always have been, they always will be.  I don’t Facebook® much – why?  I call my friends, on an actual phone.  I text my friends.  Am I often the one that calls first?  Sure.  Do we develop different lives, does life pull us away for a while?  Do hundreds or thousands of miles separate us?  Maybe.  But I make quite a few phone calls.  And mostly my friends pick up. Sure, it’s true that the biggest miracle Jesus exhibited in the Bible was having 12 11 close friends (thanks, Judas) after the age of thirty – but you just need a few – a few that will have your back.  A few you can share with.

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Also, as a single guy it was easy to make friends.  Lots of girls I asked out wanted to be friends.

Seriously – number five on the list is a wish for “letting themselves be happier.”  Happy is easy (All You Will Ever Need To Read About How To Be Happy* (*Most of the Time)), being significant is hard.  It requires hard work while being true to yourself.  It requires expressing those feelings that your virtue allows to exist.  Friends?  The good ones will be with you forever, and you can restart your conversations with the slightest hint of time passing, even if you haven’t talked regularly in a decade, if they’re true friends.

I’ve never thought about going to a hospice and slapping someone, but this list made me want to do it.  I know, I know, it’s too late for them.  And this is the list of people who had regrets.  People like me?  I don’t have a single regret at this moment of my life.  Not one.  In a hospice, I hope I’d be the, “Regrets?  No.  More clam chowder, please,” guy.

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The Boy made me some fake ramen noodles this summer – it was an impasta.

To be clear – it’s not that I don’t care.  It’s not that I’m not blameless.  It’s not that I was always right.  Not one of those things is true.  But I have done the most important thing I can think of:  When I do something I regret, I’ve changed myself so that I won’t (Clintoncide, John Bolton’s Waifu, and October Market Crashes: Knock on Wood) do that thing again.  I cannot change the past.  But if I have learned, if I can help others not make the same mistakes while not repeating my own mistake?  Like an algebra teacher for the soul, I have taken something negative and turned it into something positive.  The bonus is I get to end the dreams of high school freshmen in the process.

And I’m not planning on having any regrets tomorrow.  If you have regrets?  Fix them now or recognize them for the dead weight they are and cut them loose.

The alternative?  Trust me, you don’t want to have me chasing you down in a hospice and slapping you silly.

BONUS SOUP MEME!  I made too much soup meme by accident.  Enjoy.

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Bad Bosses, Part 2: Action Heroes, Guns, and Explosions

“Your boss is a woman?  Now this is a strange bank.” – It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia

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In order to dress for success they tell you to dress for the job you want, not the job you have.  So I found out where my boss shopped for clothes.  I’d see what they wore, and then wear the exact same outfit the next day.  My boss at the time, Marji, thought that was just a little weird since horizontal stripes weren’t at all flattering on me. 

It’s both a blessing and a curse to get to the end of writing your post and finding . . . it’s too long.  It’s a blessing because if I can break it into two posts, hey, I’ve already got my next post written, which might get me to bed by 2AM instead of the usual.  The curse part is that the post has to have a natural break between part one and part two – thankfully this one did.  The other curse part is that I actually look forward to writing a post – and the one I had planned for Friday will have to wait a week.  But it’s gonna be funny.  Part 1 is here: Bad Bosses, Part I, Including Garfield as Written by H.P. Lovecraft, and part 2 is below.

It’s been my experience that all good bosses look the same, since they are all clones of me, or at least the “me” in that first performance review (JW note: it was described in the last post, and it was a really good performance review).  And I’ve had plenty of bosses in my career – in one two-year period I went through five bosses, and I am averaging a new boss every sixteen months over the years of my career.

Based on my experiences, the traits of good bosses that I’ve had are listed below.  Good bosses are:

  • Concerned about doing their duty for their company. They display loyalty – they do their job.
  • Good at setting clear expectations on behavior and expected work outcome. You know what you’re supposed to be doing.
  • Never smelling of grilled onions.
  • Able to create an environment where honest questions are encouraged.
  • Good at providing the tools, time, and space the employee needs to get work done.
  • Available to do children’s magic shows for birthday parties.
  • Honest with employees, and give clear feedback meant to help them improve.
  • Quick to recognize that mayonnaise is not a French musical instrument.
  • Courageous – the truth is the truth, and they’ll share that up and down the line and damn the consequences.
  • Reluctant hold a knife to the secretary’s administrative assistant’s neck.
  • Genuinely concerned about the employee.
  • Treat people (generally) fairly.

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It’s always a shame when you have a great boss and he breaks a leg and has to be put down.

There are times I’ve managed to screw up most of the rules I’ve listed above when I was a boss – that’s why I was able to list them off the top of my head – you remember your mistakes.  But you learn from them, too:  One of the biggest compliments I got was when I was leaving a job for a new company.  The Chief Operating Officer came in to say goodbye and told me, “I hope you’re going to be supervising people at your new job.”  Maybe he wanted the new company I was leaving to join to fail, but I took it that he appreciated my efforts to learn and be better as a boss and wanted to pass that legacy on to other companies through people like me.  You’re right.  He wanted me to mess up that other company.

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I imagine this every time I walk into work and use the remote to lock the doors to my car without looking.

Notice I didn’t mention charisma as a requirement to be a good boss.  You don’t need to be an Elon Musk to be a great boss – and I’ve heard he’s not a particularly good boss unless you’re his weed dealer.  Notice that I didn’t mention intelligence – in some instances really high intelligence works against you as a supervisor since it can make it more difficult for you to communicate well.  Would I rather have a smart boss or an honest one?  Would I rather have a smart boss or a courageous one?  Would I rather have a smart boss or one that didn’t constantly smell of grilled onions?

Most of the time, the cause of a really bad boss is due to their fear, namely fear of getting fired or fear of missing a promotion or fear of missing a rung on the corporate ladder.  If that were to happen?  He couldn’t afford to pay for the “hot stone massages” his wife was getting from Günter, her “masseuse.”  However, sometimes you get bosses that are so strange they remind you of Cousin Eddie®:

One boss I had actually lived in his office, as in slept there every night five or six nights a week.  He claimed to be a member of a biker gang, and told stories of holding a person upside down from a bridge as the gang gently convinced him to be out of state so he couldn’t testify at an upcoming trial.  He told about buying a girlfriend a “little car” to convince her to have an abortion.  And the time he broke a bottle to use as a weapon because “The Indian” was trying to knife him.

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This might not be a completely faithful adaptation from the original story.

And as a boss, whenever I needed help, or a risky event was about to occur, you could count on him to be three states away.  As bad bosses go, he wasn’t horrible, since after I convinced him that if I looked bad, he looked bad, he had my back when we talked to corporate.  Working for him was a really weird nine months.  Normally I throw in a joke or an exaggeration in my descriptions – but in describing this boss?  Nope.  That all happened.

To be clear, with the exceptions listed above, almost all of the rest of my bosses have been great people who were of good character and really interested in helping me develop as a person and as an employee.  But where all good bosses are similar, bad bosses are often unique:

  • The Seagull – The Seagull is a boss that gets a new job every year or two. Why?  Because he flies in, makes a mess, and stays until he’s kicked out.  Miller was a Seagull.  Keep good notes for the aftermath.
  • The Shadow – Whenever anything important happens, they’re gone. Whenever you have a question?  They deflect.  Literally, it’s like not having a boss at all, or at least a boss that will make a decision.  You will have a boss if one of your choices goes wrong, however, because the Shadow will quickly (and correctly) point out that he never told you to do such a thing!
  • The Burnout – The Burnout peaked twenty years ago, and is mad and bitter. His back hurts.  You make too much money.  He wants to retire, but has to wait another year for Medicare™ to kick in.  Until then?  He wants to inflict as much pain as possible on the office because he wants everyone to hurt as much as his back does.
  • Captain Ahab – Captain Ahab is great because he has a vision. Companies love Captain Ahab leaders because they become obsessed with obtaining a vision.  The upside?  Your mission is clear, Ahab makes sure you have everything you need.  And you will work 80 hours a week to accomplish it.  These aren’t 80 hour weeks of playing Minesweeper®, no, every minute is fully used because (Spoiler Alert) that Moby Dick isn’t gonna spear itself.  Ahab doesn’t care about your family, at least during work hours.

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He then tried to hypnotize the people in the meeting using a pocket watch.  The work was rough – 90 hour weeks for months on end, but we got free coffee and he’d buy us catered dinner if we had to work past 9pm.  On a Saturday.   

  • The Sphinx – You’re always guessing. The Shadow won’t give you any sort of answer, but The Sphinx won’t tell you what he wants, but you can be sure that The Sphinx will tell you if it’s wrong.  Generally loudly and when other people are around.
  • The Politician – The Politician cares about only one thing – does it look good? If it looks good and is immoral or illegal?  Who cares?  The Politician is most commonly heard saying “perception is reality.”  The Politician always dresses carefully – almost as good as his boss.  The Politician seeks constant movement.  They can avoid being blamed for messes they make, but will loudly point out the mess they inherited in their new job.  Your value to a Politician begins and ends with you being useful to them.  Otherwise?  You don’t exist.

Your defense if you have a bad boss in almost every case if you want to keep your job is the same:  do your best at work.  Work hard, and don’t break the rules or the law.  Be nice.  And if it sucks too much?  Get a new one.

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While traditionally thought of as a good boss, Washington had a few buttons you didn’t want to press, although he did light up Ye Olde Twitter® to piss of Adams:  “King George . . . Washington.  Verily that soundeth goode.”

One other note:  if every boss working at a company is a Bad Boss, one of two things is going on:

  1. The Bad Boss is what they really want. Unless you can make it work, you have to leave.  Sooner or later, the messes a Bad Boss makes will stick to you.
  2. It may be you. I know that there have been times in my career when my attitude wasn’t optimal.  It’s probably the boss.  But always leave room and examine that the real problem isn’t you.

Okay, I’m now officially sick of Mack the Knife.  But I still don’t feel bad.  And if you’d like to share a bad boss below, feel free.

Moderation* is for Monks (*and Ruffles)

“Xerxes dispatches his monsters from half the world away. They’re clumsy beasts, and the piled Persian dead are slippery.” – 300

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That may be a slippery slope.  But it’s a tasty slippery slope.

When I was about 19, I was browsing around a new bookstore that had just opened in the college town where I went to school.  The bookstore had an inventory of about sixteen books, and lasted just about that sixteen weeks before it went out of business.  They did, however, have one book out of the sixteen that caught my eye.  I picked it up – The Notebooks of Lazarus Long by Robert Heinlein.  It was beautifully illustrated.  I flipped randomly through it, and as I recall one of the first quotations I found was:

“Everything in excess!  To enjoy the flavor of life, take big bites.  Moderation is for monks.”

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When I was in college, I used toothpaste for spackle because I didn’t know spackle existed – not a square foot of wall in my house wasn’t covered in paneling.  Live and learn, though my dorm room smelled minty-fresh when I checked out.

I bought the book.

Several of the quotes from that book have been mentioned before in previous posts by your ‘umble ‘ost, especially:

“A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly.  Specialization is for insects.”

The age of 19 is a powerful time to introduce ideas to a mind – new ones tend to burn in deeply, especially those that resonate with your belief system.

But, “Moderation is for monks”?  What do I do with that?  Is that a formula for hedonism, a nerdy version of YOLO or The Lie of Living Your Best Life (now including cookies)?  Taken entirely out of context, it could be interpreted to mean just that.  Party on!

I can’t even remotely support that interpretation, however.  When taken into proper context, specifically with the second quote, it means nothing of the sort.  You can’t be a human that’s capable of doing half of those things on the list if you’re not a person of substance, a person who has devoted their life to learning and service, or John Wick.

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John Wick kills about 77 people in the first movie because he’s sad they killed his dog, which is more than I’ve killed all year.  I guess that’s just how Keanu grieves.

Moderation may be for monks, but Heinlein wasn’t telling us to party.  He was telling us that we only get one shot at life, so we have to live it to the fullest.  He’s telling us that there’s danger in compromise.  Here’s another quote that gets us closer, from Karate Kid:

Daniel-san, must talk.  Walk on road, hmm?  Walk left side, safe.  Walk right side, safe.  Walk middle, sooner or later, get squish just like grape.  Here, karate, same thing.  Either you karate do “yes”, or karate do “no”.  You karate do “guess so”, just like grape.  Understand?

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Thankfully Mr. Miyagi wasn’t from Sweden – then he’d only know Ikea®-do.

There’s a danger to compromise.  The path to freedom as practiced by the Founding Fathers® isn’t a path of tolerance to deviation.  The path to freedom is rigorous.  It requires honest and probing self-analysis.  Once the self-analysis is done, the solution immediately presents itself.  For a real solution, the truth is required – lies are comforting, but never lead to solutions.

Taking an inventory of where your reality is versus where your standards are is important.  We all fall short of our standards from time to time, but if you do it long enough, falling short becomes your new standard.  The only solution, and I mean only solution is to avoid moderation.  If you’ve failed, the “moderate” behavior that got you there isn’t the “moderate” behavior that will get you out of the situation.

Just as the path to freedom doesn’t include tolerance for tyranny, the path to good health doesn’t include tolerance for Snickers® bars every fifteen minutes.  On the flip side, going for a half-hour without downing the bag of Ruffles® on the table doesn’t solve your health problems – it’s only the very smallest of steps.

There are no shortcuts.

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Okay, tubing down that waterfall might be a short cut.  Not a positive one, mind you . . .

For me, avoiding moderation is key – your mileage may vary.  But from what I’ve seen, most people who quit smoking, quit smoking.  They don’t slow down – they stop.  It’s a radical choice.  I’ll share my problem a problem that this girl I knew (she’s from Canada, you wouldn’t know her) had.  I started out with the keto diet (several years ago) and started getting great success.  I was in a time and place where it was possible to follow the diet exactly.  After a while, I started reading that people took a day off.  So I took a day off.

A day became a day and the previous evening.  Which became Friday evening to Saturday evening.  Which became Friday until Monday morning.  Yes, I’m admitting that I allowed the slippery slope in that girl from Canada allowed the slippery slope in.

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Thankfully we’re all out of Ruffles® and chewing gum tonight.

For me, moderation didn’t work on that diet – moderation led to failure, and that’s what Heinlein was talking about.  If you have a goal, don’t pursue it half-heartedly – pursue it with everything you have.  Moderation really is for monks.

Success, Luck, and Sexy Bill Gates

“Seriously, I don’t get it.  What, do you shoot luck lasers out your eyes?  It’s just hard to picture.  And certainly not very cinematic.” – Deadpool 2

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Yup.  I sure feel that way when I accidentally tell the ticket taker “I love you, too” after she says, “Enjoy the movie.”

One novel I recall reading back when I was in a kid in junior high was Ringworld by Larry Niven.  Niven’s fiction has always been great because when he thinks about a subject, he thinks about that subject deeply, and spins off great ideas faster than a nudist nursemaid on nitrates.

In the case of Ringworld, the main idea was about taking all the matter in a solar system and putting a big ring around it.  This would have about three million times the surface area of Earth, so if you were kinda bored and needed a weekend project to add a little bit of space to your place, building a ringworld might give you enough room so you didn’t need to rent one of those 8×10 storage units.  That might save you $30 a month!

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I’ll warn you, if your gym teacher makes you do a lap, it might take several hundred thousand years.

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Another view of the Ringworld in motion.

Outside of that huge idea of building solar-system-scale structures, Niven had a dozen others in just that one book (and he did it in other books, too) that made it especially mind bending for a young teenager to read.  One of the ideas was about luck.

In the future that Larry Niven had constructed, parents were limited to the number of children they could have, but you could have an extra child if you won a lottery.  Teela Brown’s parents won that lottery, and so on – for five generations.  In this case, Niven speculated that there might be a gene that made you lucky, and her character was brought into the novel with that genetically-based luck as her superpower, which helped move the plot along in an interesting way.

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I hear religious cannibals only eat Catholics on Friday.

The idea (like a lot of Niven’s other ideas) stuck with me for a while.  I know that there are people who think that the concept of “luck” is magical thinking.  Me?  I think that to discard luck as a concept in a Universe as vast as ours describes an unwarranted degree of certainty about how things really work.  In fact, when talking with people, I often say, “I’m the luckiest person you know.”  I really think that I am a pretty lucky fellow.  Some would even call me a jolly.  And good.

“He is lucky who realizes that luck is the point where preparation meets opportunity,” was an unattributed saying in a 1912 edition of The Youth’s Companion.  That’s a great definition, and it is one that firmly puts you in control of your destiny – most “overnight sensations” work, very hard, for years before success hits.  It’s a concept I sell to my kids frequently because the last thing I want is to allow them, for a single second, to feel like they’re victims of life.  That gives them an excuse not to perform – and they’ll need to pay for my nursing home, and I want them to be able to afford one with pole dancers.

But we need to face an unpleasant truth:  like Teela Brown, some people are just luckier than others.

Can you back that up, John Wilder?  Yes, yes I can.

  • People are born with different abilities – attractiveness, speed, strength, intelligence, cunning. It’s only on rare occasions that a rogue like me is born with all four.  Er, five.
  • Many crucial events in history have swung on luck – Lee’s invasion of Maryland was stopped at Antietam in 1862 because a corporal of the 27th Indiana Volunteers found Lee’s invasion plans in an envelope wrapped around three cigars.
  • Alexander Fleming discovered penicillin because his bacterial slide was accidently infected with a fungus – a penicillin producing fungus.

Talent is normally distributed – it follows a bell curve – most people have average talent, while some have amazing talent.  Most people (in the looks department) aren’t 10’s – they’re 5’s, which is, after all, average.  But variable amounts of talent don’t account for the huge differences in success some people see.  Bill Gates wasn’t the smartest man born in 1955.  Bill Gates wasn’t the hardest working man born in 1955.  Bill Gates wasn’t the man born in 1955 with the richest dad.

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Virus free is good too, Bill.

But Bill Gates was smart, hardworking, and had a rich dad.  And he developed a good system.  But he was also the guy who was in the right place at the right time to help create the personal computer business.  The luckiest moment of Bill Gates’ life?  When IBM© was negotiating with Bill for DOS© for their PCs, and the CEO of IBM said, “Oh, is that Mary Gates’ boy’s company?”  Turns out the CEO of IBM® was on the board of the United Way™ with Bill’s mom.

Lucky.

Luck plays a role in your life.  If you’re born well, that’s a good start.  If you pick the right major at the right time?  That’s another step on the way.  Get associated with the right things at work?  A business that is just the right one at just the right time?  Soon enough you’re the CEO.

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Lucky Charms® are also part of a complete breakfast, but then again so is a spoon, which is also inedible.

I’m not saying that the CEO is unworthy, but I do think that those who rise to the top should understand that there’s a role for luck as well.  Scientific American (LINK) even has an article where a mathematical simulation of talent plus luck equals the creation of the unequal distribution of outcomes we see in the world today where vast amounts of wealth are owned by a small number of people.

Is an unequal distribution an unfair outcome?  No, mainly because people make the individual choices that lead them to their fates – very few people are forced to their position in life.  If I had made several different choices in my life, could I have been the CEO of a major company?  With luck, sure.  But I’m sure that whoever got the job is doing fine, as am I, plus I don’t have to live in a big city and wear a tie more than once a year.

And what about lucky breaks that go way beyond probability?

Yup, I think those happen, too.  But that’s a future post.  If you’re lucky.

Kids, Parents, and Happiness (Plus Orphan Jokes)

“Yeah, but I don’t think anybody would adopt me at this advanced development stage that I’m in.” – The Red Green Show

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That’s not true.  But I do know that the favorite beer of orphans is Fosters®.

My brother was an only child*.  I kid.  But he was the only kid in the house when I showed up.  And by showed up, I mean when I was adopted – I was, I think, four years old at the time.  Of course, this was after the whole virgin birth thing and then being found as a three day old baby by the headwaters of the Odense River in Denmark by Pharaoh’s Mom.  But I was just too much for Denmark to handle.  And too much for Head Start to handle – they kicked me out (really).

I actually remember the day I first called my adoptive mother “Mom.”  As I recall, it was in some utterly mundane sentence, such as “Okay, Mom,” just after the court finalized the adoption.  I can even remember my tension while waiting to see how she would react.  Would she be upset and cry?  Would a whirling orchestral theme surround us as she took me in her arms and wept with joy to have a new son?  Would she . . . tell me not to call her Mom?

None of those things happened.  She just said, “Alright,” and continued as if I had called her Mom a hundred thousand times before and that me calling her Mom was the most normal thing in the world for four year old John Wilder to do.

Mom probably picked the right reaction since we were so poor that we couldn’t afford a live-in orchestra at our house.  I often wondered, was Ma Wilder as tense about that moment as I was?  I know she was tense a year later when she was explaining to the doctor over the phone that I ate all of her birth control pills.  Man, that was the nastiest tasting candy ever.  But the pills had a side effect – I’ve never been pregnant, which I hear is a thing guys can do now.

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One day I was asked by a stranger if I was adopted.  Me:  “Yes, what gave me away?”  Stranger:  “Your parents.”

The advantage of being an outsider dropped into a fully functioning family is that I was able to see a set of customs that were new to me, like having regular meals.  The ordinary day-to-day web of family life was there to see, but it was also there to be disturbed and observed by the alien dropped in the midst of the ranch-style Area 51.

Families have customs, even when they don’t know that they do.  One of the first customs I noticed was when I went to bed, the last thing anyone in the house said to me was, “see you tomorrow.”

For some reason, four or five year-old me found that an odd thing to say.  It wasn’t good night.  It wasn’t good bye.  “See you tomorrow.”  I found it oddly comforting, a promise that I really would see them tomorrow.  That may sound odd to you, but it’s a thing that I really thought about as I stared up at the ceiling from my bed.  It was, I thought, the nicest thing anyone could have said.

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The original line wasn’t “I’ll be back,” it was “See you tomorrow.”  Everyone in the test audience just said, “awwww.”

“See you tomorrow.”  Perhaps it was the impermanence that I’d experienced in my life up until then – being adopted represented at least the fourth major living arrangement change I’d experienced since I was born – but the simple stability implied in those words made me happy as I snuggled under the covers on a warm winter night.

Please don’t think that I ever felt alienated by my adopted family, but it was certainly recognized that I was an alien – a shock of blond hair and freckles in a family of brunettes.  It was like I was the actor hired to punch up a sitcom and dropped into the season 12 opening episode with no backstory.  Again, I was always treated as a regular cast member, and not a recurring guest star.

My family loved me ferociously, and showed it on a regular basis – not only did Pop Wilder give me his name, he also sat and watched every football practice, came to every varsity football game and nearly every varsity wrestling match, and sacrificed years of his life worrying about me.

Kids need families.  Even odd kids like me.

And kids help families.

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I’m still the odd one, but that’s okay – sometimes I discover new things – such as not liking the taste of raw fish heads. 

A recent study out of Europe (LINK), where I thought even saying the words “family” or “child” was considered a hate crime found that married couples with kids were happier than married couples without kids.  But there was a catch – the kids needed to have moved out of the house for the parents to be happier.

Why is that?

As a parent who has one kid in the house and some already gone, I can understand that.  Raising a kid is tough:

  • It’s long hours when they’re sick.
  • It’s home surgery that brings to mind a Civil War surgeon performing an amputation.
  • It’s being covered in vomit that smells like formula while watching a parade on a 95°F day.
  • It’s getting a call that they backed the pickup into the lunch lady’s car. Parked car.  Not moving parked car.  In broad daylight.
  • It’s learning how to yell loudly enough so they can hear you explain why you’re choking them.

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Seven year old kids don’t think it’s funny AT ALL when you tell them that you’re going to have to amputate their arm when they complain about a splinter. 

But those are the dark sides.  There are the positive sides:

  • Seeing your child go from C’s to A’s because they finally figured it out.
  • Seeing your kid finally “get it” and perform better than they ever thought they could at a sport.
  • Watching them solve a problem – by themselves.
  • Getting a text from them on a random day – just because they wanted to send you a text.
  • Seeing them become competent at being an adult.
  • Hearing them tell you that, “I’m doing it, and it’s none of your business,” when they make a decision.
  • Having them pick a very nice nursing home for you because you love them so very, very, very much. (I’m hoping they’re reading this when I’m 103 and drooling.)

The research indicated** childless people are happier than people with kids.  Until the kids move out.  Then the people with kids are happier.  From the list above, I can see that.  From my perspective, children are like incredibly cute parasites until about age 9.  They cost a lot of money, they take up a huge amount of time, and they’re less intelligent than a basset hound who agreed to be on Dancing with the Stars.

Sure, some big headaches come as kids get older.  And around middle school is when the final battle for their soul takes place.  From experience, with my daughters it was one type of battle (“you’re ruining my life”).  With boys it is quite another (“I was supposed to do what?”).  None of the battles are easy, but they represent the last stage, the last opportunity for a major influence.  After that, it’s nothing but minor course corrections until they move out.

I love Pugsley, who is the last chick in our nest.  But I derive a lot of satisfaction from the Wilders who are out in the world – I love seeing them change and grow.  I love seeing them accomplish things.  And I love late night calls where they ask for earnest advice.  I certainly may have given Alia S. Wilder a bit of a hard time in The Lie of Living Your Best Life (now including cookies) and Financial Advisers, Christianity, and Elon Musk’s Hair, but she has displayed a great independence, and has owned her mistakes without blaming others.

But in one way the study is wrong.  Tonight, when Pugsley went to bed, he said, “See you tomorrow.”  I won’t hear that after he moves out, and I’ll miss that beautiful sentiment.  But it will also be their responsibility when they (or their kids) back into the parked lunch lady car.

*For all of you wondering why my brother’s name is also John Wilder?  Is it a joke?  No, he and I have, in real life, the same first name:  John.  Really.  The adoption explains it.  John was born before me, so he had the name first.  I was old enough that they weren’t exactly gonna start calling me by a whole different name after my fourth living arrangement in four years.  Heck, that might have messed me up enough so I would have gotten a doctorate in social sciences.  Thankfully, they already called my brother John by his middle name (Velociraptor, or his nickname “Screech”) before I showed up.

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This was in the library at my house – I found it one day, and my parents claimed to have no idea where it came from.  Perhaps it was left on the shelf by the Lady of the Lake™ to prepare me for my writing career as John Wilder so I could save the United States?  Or maybe they forgot when they got it, since the book was over 25 years old when I found it.  One of the two.  I’m betting on the Aquatic Tart®.

**Research in social sciences is a problem that we face in society as a whole.  It appears that social science research is better than flipping a quarter, but not a lot better than flipping a coin.  Where scientists tried to duplicate the findings of a social science study, they could only do it about 65% of the time.  Sure, that’s slightly better than just guessing, and probably what you would expect with people who kept going to college so they could get a doctorate instead of following their true calling in the food service industry and then figured out how to use government grant money for gluten free locovore vegan tacos while they study how the patriarchy influenced and controlled t-shirt design in 1978.  Don’t forget, these stories are also reported by journalism school graduates.  Journalism school is for rich kids who aren’t smart enough to qualify to get into Yale Law® or even Maria’s Authentic Taqueria and Law School®.