PHOOEY!

When is the last time you heard this word?  Probably many years and you never give it much thought.  We go through stages when the "word du jour" seems to be en eternal part of our mental construct.  Then, without falling off the cliff of usage, our favorite words/expressions disappear in the fog of time.  I don't know why I thought of this one the other day.  It just popped up and there it was.  I asked my #2 son if he had ever heard it.  He said that he had, "centuries ago."  He's 32.  So we went on to another topic.  But I wasn't done.
My mind went around and around and there I was trying out the feel of a couple of old words that I haven't head or used in a long, long time.
I thought of "Shucks!" or even "Aw shucks!"
I thought of "Sugar!"
I even revisited "Turkey."  I had a friend who used to embellish that with "Jumpin' Tom Turkey!"
I remembered that we don't use "square" much any more,if ever.  Even "cool!" seems to be losing some of its heat.  Do you remember when something would be a "drag?"
Back in the day there used to be a lot of "baloney" in the world.  I think what happened there is that with the ease of travel and all, people came to know that the real word was "Bologna."
Of curse we won't even mention the slang terms that were used to name the warring factions of World War Two.
On the neutral side, I would just like to say that "yes," there are still "tin cans" in the world.  We don't see too many of them here, but there are some.
That's what went through my mind here lately.  Oh, I just thought of another one, It's time to "Skeedaddle."
If you can remember that, you're as old as dirt.

BATTING A THOUSAND

I was looking for a picture for you that would somehow introduce the topic you expect from the title of this post.  So, I went to Google because I didn't have too much time since it is already the middle of the night.  So I put in the three words that you see at the top there. What I saw in ten pages of Larry and Sergei's masterpiece was about four pictures of marginally related baseball pictures and a very large array of naughty things...So, I figured that I would complete the idiocy by taking the picture that you see.  Two French flags celebrating a XXX billboard with Americana...Sheeesh!
It's a good thing that the nun who taught us decimals is no longer with us.  I hope she doesn't get her wings wrinkled by the sass of this little essay.  I bring it up for one reason, and one reason only.  The other day my younger son used the expression "Batting a thousand" to describe the string of bad luck that someone whom we both know was suffering.  It is a part of US culture that I don't hear much any more.  But when I heard it I thought of Sister Robert Marie.  5th grade at the Immaculate Conception school on Summer street in the "Flats" of Holyoke, Massachusetts, down by the canal.  The "Paper City" it was called.  When the times they got a little more brazen, the bumper stickers that they were flashing around read, "The best city by a dam site."  If anyone thought of that in the 40's, they didn't use it for fear that the mayor would have washed their mouth out with soap.  Make mine Ivory, please.  It's 99/100% pure, you know.
Anyway, the good sister decided that it was time to teach us how to calculate our batting averages.  She made the mistake of thinking that she had enough "street" smarts to deal with us wise-acres.  You can all see this coming.  She asks, "If Johnny hits the ball and gets to first base, what is his batting average?"  We all say, "A thousand."  That was it.  She spent at least a half hour trying to  get us to say, 1.000 [one.point zero, zero, zero.]  Forget that noise. She was having a mental breakdown.  She tried to make us say that some batters bat [no, she didn't say "hit"-- hey she was a sister, remember?"] "Three hundred and twenty-five thousandths."  Whoooie!  That went over really well.  We could all see ourselves talking to the tough, "eat-nails-for-breakfast-catcher" that he was batting only "two hundred and ten thousandths."  Imagining the consequences of doing something like that was altogether too much for any of us to bear.  
Actually I remember that a couple of us guys, and even one girl tried to reason with Sister Robert Marie, but this was 1949 or so...You know, "pay, pray and obey!"  Oh, and  keep quiet too.  
Sister took it for a while, but then she changed the subject to geography or some such safe haven of the sort.  We were good with that, along as we had her out of our hair and we could go on using the phrase "Batting a thousand" to our hearts content.


So see, I thought about all of that and still had to suffer through the bad experience with Mr. Google and the French stuff.  But, all in all, it was fun.  We have so little culture here in the good ol' US of A, that when we trip over a bit of it, we have to put it out there, right?  Right.  Now, go to bed, "Mrs. Calabash, where ever you are!"

TELSTAR -- PLEMEUR-BODOU - 20 MINUTES OF AWE

Plemeur-Bodou, France

I was on the way to delivering my systematic Bible study this evening when I caught the end of the news story relating the events that surrounded the first trans-Atlantic transmission of television images by satellite.  I was really surprised about the news because satellite transmissions of television images have passed into the fabric of our lives.  We don't even know where the images we have before us originate.  
Soon we will be watching the Olympic Games unfold in London.  Just about the only discomfort we will feel is the time lag between London and North America.  There will be no watermark on the television screen reading "Transmitted by Satellite"  just as used to happen in the not too distant past.  
When I heard the tail end of the story, I remembered certain things just as though they were yesterday.  Better, even.  This is all the more amazing since I haven't had this event in the forefront of my grey matter since the week after I witnessed the entire historical event in a Paris sitting room.  We had read all the newspapers and we had seen the time schedule of the transmission in store-fronts and in the school lobby.  We [there were three of us] made up our minds that we would not miss this for anything.  It would be the signature historical event of our lives.  So, there we were, in the sitting room of a religious monastery in the 11th arrondissement of Paris, France.  We were sitting there a good thirty minutes ahead of the announced time.  We knew that the images would only appear for some 20 minutes.  Since the satellite was in motion, and there was but one, it would come into range and fly out of range.  Yes, this going to be quite a show.  If my memory serves me correctly, it happened in the early evening, sometime between 7:00 and 8:00 PM.  We knew that the satellite was named Telstar and that the signal would be received at the Brittany area installation called Plemeur-Bodou.  I remembered these details immediately upon realizing what was being celebrated on the car radio this evening.  
Suddenly, right before our eyes, the television screen became snowy, flickery, and flashed in and out a few times in rapid succession before steadying with a very clear picture of the American Flag waving in the wind accompanied by the Stars Spangled Banner.  When that stopped, the voice-over was a man's voice but I do not remember whether or not it was Walter Cronkite  or Edward R. Murrow.  The Statue of Liberty was followed by other pictures from around North America.  If I am not mistaken, I think that Niagara Falls was one of the featured landmarks.  The pictures remained clear and the quality of the voice-over was quite good until suddenly the reverse of what had initially happened began to manifest itself.  In about thirty seconds the connection was lost and we were isolated in a sitting room some three thousand miles away from our homes.  Yes, it was quite an experience.  Yes, it has stuck with me as one of my cherished historical moments that I can brag about simply because I am so old, I was there.  Truly not a great "accomplishment" but a "cool" memory.  I have many of them, but that's not the point for this article.  Just remember when you watch the Olympic Games, this all started exactly 50 years ago.

DEFINE "GOOD WORK" -- DOES THAT MEAN THAT WORK IS GOOD?

GOOD WORK?  REALLY?  WHY?

Yesterday we talked about "hard work."  Not all of hard work is good work.  I was translating a three page presentation of an executive level person who is presently seeking work.  The reason why he is unemployed at this time is because he resigned from a very lucrative positive for moral reasons.  I was doing this translation after setting down my reflections about "hard work."  So, naturally I related this person's situation to at least one that I suffered during my days as an active Human Resources Director.  I was somewhat more fortunate than he in that when I told my superiors that I would no longer sign anything in the name of the company, they just shrugged and kept me on the payroll anyway.  Just goes to show how ethical they were!
So it is true.  There is hard work, lucrative work and good work.  My definition of "good work" is conditioned by the definition of work that is proposed by the Catholic Church.  It is work that is performed for the benefit of the employer, the employee and the community at large.  In the concept of the Catholic Church, the employer has to care for the welfare of the employee;  the employee has to care for the welfare of the employer;  Together, employer and employee have to promote and sustain the common good of the community at large.  That is good work.  I propose here to give you two examples of what I am talking about.  One from a non-Catholic country and one from a "Catholic" country.
At the end of WW II, the Japanese people had to rebuild their country.  Needless to say there was a lot of opportunity for work. Hard work it was, for the most part.  Everybody helped.  Those who helped were not sent home.  Those companies who were able to set up again and move forward, hired people and did not send them home in downturns.  Everyone was expected to support the community at large, employers included.  It was a time when mutual support was institutionalized.  Japan not only survived, it flourished and continues to do so.  The discipline of interactive assistance is the hallmark of the Japanese people.  Don't take my word for it, just look at the last disaster that struck them less than two years ago.  You don't see them crying "Uncle" do you? 
That is good work.
1961 - I was in Italy as a student.  I was there for four years.  Everywhere I looked there was a street sweeper.  Sometimes two of them to a block.  Construction sites were common  during this season of the reconstruction of Italy after WW II.  They were never active for six or seven days per week.  No way.  It's not that the Italians are lazy.  Nope.  What they were doing is helping one another to nurse the resources so that they would help a slightly inflated labor force to benefit by the work for a little longer until the next contract.  I was never able to see what was happening outside the city, in the far-flung country side, but I am told that even today, the same attitude prevails in the country.  If you get terminated in Italy, you know that you did something REALLY bad.
That is good work.
I believe in that kind of work.  Maybe is it just me.  Maybe it is because of the house I was brought up in.  EFR Dion was one tough dude when it came to mutual support in the work place.  He was deeply resentful of people who were there just for the money.  He used to say that he was there for them and he expected them to be there for him.  He was there for the company and the employees should be there for the company too.  In my mind "good work" is work where the common good reigns.  In an atmosphere of fraternity, even "hard work" is good work.  
I have worked at many places in my life.  There are only two where I could define the work as good.  At neither one did I get paid king's ransom wages.  I left each one of them due to circumstances beyond my control.  [No, I wasn't fired]...I did get fired in my life, but never from "Good Work."


I know that this reflection is a little deep.  I also know that those of you who have been nurtured by the organized labor philosophy that all employers are the enemy of the employees won't believe it.  To that I say, to each his own.  I have always worked for the good of my employer.  I'm 75 and I am still working for the good of my employer.  
My retirement benefit is my God-given health, my brain and my hands.  
Knowing that, you are now definitely not going to be tempted to cry at my funeral.

DEFINE "HARD WORK"

Today I was listening to Public Radio, as is my wont.  All of a sudden the topic of hard work came up.  The host of the program was interviewing people who had achieved something great along the way of life.  The one that grabbed my attention was the biography of a woman who has conquered white slavery and become a tenured full professor at UCLA.  When she finished her story, the host then went on to introduce an expert on the effects of hard work on the human body and in the human mind.  Fortunately, I had arrived at a point just 100 yards away from my destination, so I missed the whole thing, except the inane introduction.  It did, however make me think.  I cannot remember if I ever paused to talk about my philosophy of work, and precisely, hard work.  Let me run a search to see if the "hard work" label occurs in the "365 Thoughts..." universe.  I'll get back to you.
[5 minutes later] Brace yourselves...62 hits in the search for "hard work."  Wow!  I didn't think anyone could say so many things about "hard work" as that.  That equals 11.524% of the time I have written on these pages, I talked even just a little bit about "hard work."  How could I do that?  I know that I am not afraid of hard work.  Jiminy Cricket, I could sleep next to it all day and and wake up happy.  However today I did get a little philosophical about it.
Ready?  Here we go.
Age 12 -- Cleaning the sluicing brook behind the auto body shop
Age 14 -- Working on the tobacco farms (2 Summers)
Age 17 -- Working on a construction site (I know, I was an illegal) Trust me, by any  
                 definition, that was hard work
Age 18 -- Working in a print shop specializing in comic books and in cheap $0.25 
                 pornographic (text only) pocket books (worked there for 5 Summers)
I was in the seminary in the farming country of New Hampshire and we pitched in to perform the maintenance and farming tasks that had to be done.  Yes, some of it was dangerous...lumber jacking, for example; slaughtering cattle and a host of other stuff that goes into the maintenance of a 1,500 acre property and a full service farm.
Talk about hard work?  So far I have only mentioned categories that are generally conceded to be "hard work."  But remember, I am a polyglot with a masters degree.  So, I have a different definition of hard work than you'll find in John L. Lewis's note books. Nevertheless I venture into other classes of "hard work."
Decision making based on an abundance of education and a penury of experience.  Learning a foreign language so that you can help other people make conscience decisions without leading them astray.  Managing a $ 1,000,000 budget of tithe collections to the liking of your parishioners and the strict expectations of your boss.  When you were 30 years old, full of P... and vinegar, did you ever try to talk some serious truth to the 60 year old, crusty codger who didn't give a sweet flying fig how much education you had?  Friend, That is HARD WORK.
Then, I got older.  Then I had to remember the "hard work" that I had done when I was 30.  I have to tell you, those 60 somethings who had to listen to me when I was 30 were doing hard work.  I was a handful...in fact, a whole bushel basket full.  Now, I am even older than that and I work for a company in Europe and I have to meet European deadlines from California, and they are set by those European 30 somethings!  Hey, amigos, I'm here to tell you that it is hard work even though I don't even have to comb my hair to go to work.
Interestingly enough, I haven't mentioned the two years that I drove a medical transport van over mainly city streets.  250 to 300 miles per day.  
How about the airport mini-van to transport passengers and their luggage to and from airports?  16 to 18 hour days six days per week...Sunday I took a break and only worked 8 hours.  


See?  There are many definitions of hard work.  Physical, mental and emotional.  
None of the three can escape the three forces that cause the work to be hard.
Short, but powerful intensity (weight, risk, probable consequences).  Long, continuous demand for engaged involvement.   Disciplined maintenance of smooth, collaborative human relationships to provide high quality outcomes.


All three of these clumps of reality can be deleterious to your health if they are not managed well.  I know, first hand.  Hard work did not kill me, but my gluttony for it nearly did.  Don't let it do it to you...don't do it to yourself.  Because I learned my lesson, you won't have to cry at my funeral.

WARNING -- AVERTISSEMENT -- ADVERTENCIA

THE TRANSLATION IS SUPER LITERAL JUST LAUGH IT OFF! [(:-)-[--<
LA TRADUCTION EST STRICTEMENT LITTERALE -- AMUSEZ-VOUS
LA TRADUCCION E DE MASIADO LITERAL -- USENLA CON
CAUTELA Y HUMOR

POLITICS 2012 -- MY TAKE -- WE'RE GOING TO THE DOGS

                   ROOFUS                                             POTUS

I tell you that it is fun watching this skirmish between these two.  I have never been much of a watcher of politicians because I am of the opinion that they all live on another planet than I do.  I wonder if they could pass the DNA test for humanity.  Deep down inside me, I don't think that they can.  
Like everyone else, I hear them making all sorts of promises about what they are going to accomplish once they are elected.  It always strikes me as strange that as they are making these promises, I am wondering if they realize that are but one person among the other 600 who are also making similar promises.  I also hear them bashing the brains out of one another in public.  I suppose that we adults can listen to this xxx talk and shake it off like wet puppies.  I am wondering how young children feel about it though.  Sometimes I wonder if it would not be safer to allow the left tackle to "bring his daughter to work" some Sunday.  That might be easier.  She would have to do it only once.  The sons and daughters of these two specimens of DNA constructs have to play left tackle for months on end.  


Well, I am not fond of writing politics here on this page, but I decided that I would give it a go for one time.  So, here it is.  I declare that there is a great difference between the two principal candidates running for the privilege of sitting the the Oval Office.  


Right off the top:  One is looking for the job.  The other is striving for the office.

                                  One is usually grinning.      The other is usually smiling.

                                  One is not afraid to throw a dare at the other side.

                                  The other doesn't dare anyone to do anything, not even himself.

                                  One is Christian.  The other is not.  Neither appears to be willing to         

                                  follow the morality defined by the tenets of the religion they say  

                                  they espouse.

                                  One has a tanker full of money.    The other only has a truckload.

                                  They each have more money than either you or me.

                                   One has no qualms about spending tens of millions of other    

                                   people's money.  The other prefers to spend hundreds of millions 

                                   of other people's money.

                                  One is a saber rattler; a real ships, planes, drones and bombs buff.

                                  The other plays basketball, lets others do the joystick shtick and 

                                   takes credit for killing people in other people's back yard.

                                   Neither one knows a gun from a slingshot.  

                                   Neither one has ever had to eat "shit on a shingle" for breakfast.

                                   One plays basket ball, but doesn't allow pictures of him in shorts!

                                   The other has million dollar toys and likes the bling that they ring.

                                   They both have dogs.  One keeps his in the house.  The other 

                                    keeps his on the roof of his car.  One has eaten dog meat and 

                                    perhaps would not turn it down if it were offered.  The other doesn't 

                                    have to "wok" his dog because he's nestled into the car roof rack.

                                    Neither one has to complain that he is living a dog's life.

                                    One has an Hawaiian birth certificate, so they say.  The other has 

                                    IRS documents.  Or so it is alleged.  In both cases, there is no 

                                    better, nor richer grist for the gossip mill.

Yes, it is interesting to watch this year.  There is absolutely no suspense.  Everyone knows that no matter who finally gets to sit the Oval Office, the chair will still serve the noble purpose of supporting the south end of a being whose north end is firmly lodged in the dark confines of the southern recesses of his being.  


Now you are all informed about the urgent need for our vote.  One vote against the will of the hundreds of millions of $1.00 votes by the special interests.  And all for the glory of saying that we kept one guy off unemployment!


    

WOW! GOD DID GOOD WORK HERE

7,328 FEET and now we are beginning to lose altitude.  We bank slightly left and the scenery doesn't change much except that it is in decline rather than incline.  Then, all of a sudden, an enormous hole in the shape of a deep throat-ed valley opened up to our bulging eyes and gaping mouths.  There below and ahead, to the right of the vehicle at about the one o'clock position was the heavenly blue expanse of Lake Tahoe nestled into the caressing recess of an angel's "wing-pit."  Just like this.

UNEXPECTED GIFT FROM ABOVE

CALIFORNIA, THE GOLDEN STATE

CALIFORNIA, THE GOLDEN STATE

Hello there. The other night, 12:30 AM of July 9, 2012 Belle and I departed from our abode in Southern California and pointed our horseless carriage in the direction of the San Francisco Bay Area, 500 miles away to the north.  We were headed for Union City, California where we were scheduled to spend an evening with friends, sleep at their house and proceed to Lake Tahoe, California the next morning.  

This drive is a long and rather uneventful ride since there is not really any breath-taking scenery to make it interesting.  So we drove through the night [it's cooler that way] and arrived in Fremont slightly past mid morning.  

We took some time to feel the nostalgia affect us [we had lived in Fremont for 6 years] before going to the friends who live but five more miles to the north.  All told, it was a good time.  We were there alone and could do nothing to affect the outcome of anything that we could have started in Southern California before leaving.  That is a rare intellectual and emotional state for us to be in.  We seem to always be occupied with constructing something or trying to make something happen.  Now all we had to do was to show up and enjoy the company of our friends.  What a concept!

The evening went well and even contained a very special bit of good news for us.  Turns out that the host was going to be sworn in as an American citizen in Wednesday, July 11.  This was special for us as we had written a letter in support of his good moral character.  That made our sleep all the sweeter.

The next morning we left Fremont, pointed ourselves to the East and started to roll.  We had to go through a section where the land mass changes from coastal plain to hilly ridge before plunging in the Central Valley.   This is a very large and fertile valley that runs for about 300 miles [500 kilometers] north and south and averages about 80 miles [150 kilometers] wide.  I had a friend who was a landowner in this valley and he was fond of saying, "If humans can eat it, we grow it."  

On the way there, we had to go over the separating ridge, as I said.  This is a grass covered, golden yellow/brown mass of rolling hills.  No a sharp point in sight. When the sun hits it, which is about 85% of the year, the grass which has died and withered because of the lack of rain forms an attractive alternative to what
would be green grass in many other parts of the world.  This is a phenomenon that pertains to great expanses of land all throughout California.  This is why it is called the Golden State.

When most of us Easterners get here, we let our minds take us back to Sutter's mill race and the discovery of gold.  Californians let us get away with that for a while, but then they shake their shyness and tell us the truth.

So now you all know.  

The drive across the 75 miles of Central Valley was, of course, uneventful and causes us to turn on the car air-conditioning system.  As our friend Yoda would say, "Warm it was.  This, known you should have."  Anyway, we got through it.  There is another secret that we have to tell you.  It did not get any cooler as we started to climb up to the level of Lake Tahoe.  Nope.  Not at all.  So, up we went. 1,000 feet; 2,000 feet;

3,000; 4,000; 5,000; 6,000...nope, there's still more.  To top it all off, the temperature was not backing off.  Neither were we.  We were not going to be outdone.  So we plowed on, all the way up to 7,328 feet, if my mind is still functioning accurately.  There it was.  The sign said "Summit."

We were at the top of our climb, but not at the top of our enjoyment.  Since I have reached the summit of my word count, I will rejoin you tomorrow with the beginning of "The REST of the Story."

LANGUAGE AGAIN -- OH, OH! SAME NAME, DIFFERENT WORDS

STOP

I spent a few hours in Tijuana, Mexico today.  As usual, I was transported to a different planet and had a lot of thoughts cross my mind.  Stay tuned.
Off to your right, is Tijuana, Mexico Spanish for "STOP."
Bet you never imagined that, right?  Unless, of course, you're a USA teenager on a night out in TJ.

Below, the literal translation is 
       "Continuous Stops"

This is a signature joke in Tijuana.  Certain humorous mini-bus drivers have the permission to affix this to the rear of their conveyance.

Try this in Madrid

If you know some Spanish, especially "Border Zone, Tijuana Spanish, check out the link in the upper right hand position of the picture.  La Madrilena Donna may enjoy this.
www.hazmeelchingadofavor.com.

Some other thoughts:
Would you believe that this is Laurie...Ooops, nope, sorry, I'm told that it is lorry.
Turns out that San Diego English and London English can be different too.
Interesting stuff, Eh!  Where'd that Canadian come from?

Ice Cream Soda - today
College Ice - yesterday

Now, here's one from the distant past, right here in the good ol' USA.

usa - milkshake
Providence, Rhode Island - Cabinet

THE BEST HEALTHCARE SYSTEM IN THE WORLD

“That is not the issue,” Sen. Mitch McConnell said. “The question is how to go step by step to improve the American health care system. It is already the finest health care system in the world.”

There is not doubt that the American Health Care system is the best in Kentucky.  It's in the other 49 states that we have a problem.  The World Health Organization places the United States Health Care system at number 23 in the world.  That means that there are some countries well entrenched in the 3rd world ahead of us.  

I think about things that politicians say a lot.  I actually take very few of them seriously, even though I have a deep seated conviction that what comes out of their mouths is mostly untrue.  I hesitate to accuse them of lying because I am not sure that they make it a point to lie in order to deceive us.  I think that they are so irreversibly warped to fit into their own parallel universe that they can't relate to the truth the way the rest of us perceive it.  Take Ol' Mitch, for instance.  I would be willing to bet you $5.00 that he knows right good and well that the U.S. healthcare system is not the best in the world.  He knows that the rest of the western world and some of the eastern world as well as far ahead of the U. S. in the delivery of health care.  He knows that the citizens of the U.S. pay the highest prices in the world for prescription drugs.  He knows it because he voted to make it a national policy that the U.S. government would not negotiate with the big pharmaceutical companies for preferred pricing.  We have the best healthcare system in the world because Mitch McConnell gets huge campaign donations from the healthcare system machine.  So, that's his definition of "best."  Hey, he can't mess with them, right?

There is one truth that you will never hear a politician mouth and that is that the U.S. has one of the lower personal tax rates in the world.  Actually, number 23 among the first world countries.  The other things that you won't catch them saying is that no matter how you slice the statistics, the U.S. leads the world in per capita income.  Before you read it here, were you aware of that?  

I find it interesting that this is true despite the fact that the U.S. is only 7th in the world in number of college graduates every year.  When I put that all together, it makes me understand why those who can, ship their manufacturing processes to other countries around the globe.  Are the politicians doing anything to make it easier for the average U.S. citizen to graduate from college?  Of course not, they will tell you that we have the best education system in the world.  Actually, according to the statistics we are paying higher wages to a less educated population than can be found across the pond.  If I can come to that conclusion, why can't they?

Here's a personal anecdote.  I have a young cousin who lives in Italy.  He is about in the 5 or 6th grade.  The only advantage that he has is that he is "acing" English as a second language.  The rest of his grades are respectable B+ GPA.  His mother assures me that he is at least two years ahead of his U.S. peers in general education achievement.  I'm not surprised.  Some five years ago a young nephew came to this country from a village in the Philippines.  He was in the fourth grade.  He coasted for three years because he was totally "underwhelmed."  Sounds to me like we're paying people too much.  

Example:  I heard on the PBS station from San Diego today that the  employees at the convention center must be payed a "living wage" of #13.77 per hour.  Huh?  For that kind of money, I'll sweep your floor, wash your windows, clean your toilets and take out your trash.  $13.77!  No wonder no one wants to graduate from college.  There's money to be made sweeping floors.

So, Mr. and Mrs. Politician.  Keep living in your world.  Just remember, when you tell us that we are the best in the world, we do not believe you.

MLM -- AN INTERESTING APPROACH TO LIFE

It has been a long time since I attended an MLM [Multi-Level Marketing] presentation.  I must admit that in the nearly 40 years that I have attended these presentations I have been unable to find any serious changes in the approach.  What struck me this time was that the approach has turned out to be somewhat distasteful to me because it ignores some rather basic human tendencies while trying to entice people with baser instincts.  It reminds me of the professional athlete syndrome that usually courses through the veins of many younger people.
Professional athletes make it all look so easy.  They run, they jump, they catch, they throw. They win and they lose, but it all looks so easy.  The young person in an age-appropriate setting does the same thing and younger siblings just know that they will do that too someday.  The desire to be a professional athlete dies hard in some people.  I know.  It died hard in me.  I have told you the story that it took an honest coach's plain talk to make me come to my senses.
It came home to me then, that many think they can, but can't, or won't. So many do not have the raw talent, others have the talent but don't pound it into full reality because all they look at is the glamor, the fame and the money.  Crrrash!
You got the picture.  MLM is like that.  
I am fairly confident that many of you have been to a presentation by Amway, Avon, Mary Kay or someone else, maybe even Fuller Brush! :-).  At first the presentations strike you as being really great and the concepts put forth are so clear and the objectives that they describe appear so easy to achieve.  The beginning of such an endeavor for so many people starts on a high and withers and dies because the reality rarely matches the hype.  That is an easy way of putting it.  The more realistically profound way I think is this:
It is wrong-headed propaganda.  The one that I attended the other night was some of the same and I realized what was happening.  I was hearing a recording of the same stuff that I had heard 40+ years ago.  It always starts with the assurance that all you have to do is to dedicate 10 or 12 hours per week and before you know it the money will begin to roll in.  The math matrix that appears on the screen suddenly morphs into a pile of money bags and the listener is left with the impression that this is fruit from 12 hour weeks.  The copies of the large monthly residual income checks start to appear and before you know it the temptation to say "yes" is too great to resist.  But, wait, wait!...
Remember that you still have a day job.  Remember that you still have your family responsibilities and a ton of other things.  The most difficult reality to confront is the fact that for the most part, you and I do not have the training that it takes to be a good salesperson.  That is the key to the whole commitment.  Multi-Level-Marketing is more than anything direct, hard-driving sales work combined with training your partners for success. Ask any professional sales person how much effort and savvy it takes to be successful and you will walk away convinced that 12 part-time, easy going hours will never translate into $10,000 per month.  That is the insidious part of the approach...It does not put the accent on the bedrock foundation of success, which is nothing but hard work along a professionally defined line.
I have nothing against Multi-Level-Sales organizations, per se.  I am just expressing my wonderment at the amount of time that it took for me to realize how warped the recruitment approach is.  Serious industries spend a lot of time training potential sales persons.  Not more than about 15% of the trainees make it through the training and fewer than that become successful.  None of them sooner than five years into it.  This is well-known truth.  Yet the MLM people keep hammering away at the "easy money" approach.  
I am not going to let you down.  I'm going to share a secret with you that will perhaps surprise you.  Here it is anyway.  It's not rocket science, it's common sense career preparation.
1. You  take charge.  Don't wait to be invited.
2. Study.  If only on Google.  Spend some time informing yourself about MLM companies.
3. Make a list of about 10 questions that you think are the tough ones concerning any  job. 
              Pick your three favorite companies 
4. Find a successful person in each of your three picks and ask for a one-on-one meeting.  [not more than 60 minutes]  No product demonstration this time.
5. You drive the agenda.  No fluff.  No B.S.  Work.  What does it take to be successful in the company?  Ask each one of your ten questions.  Take notes.
6. How much real money will it cost you, out-of-pocket on a month to month basis to make yourself self-sufficient in 12 - 15 months.  Don't leave anything out.  Phone, gas, fast food, samples, monthly product buys, stationery, stamps, Internet, printer ink, etc...you get the point.
7. Support team, training, etc.
8. Be polite. End the meeting on your terms.  Promise to get back to the individual within 5 working days.  If the individual calls you after two days, politely say that you're still considering your options.  Remember, you're in charge.  It's your life. When you do call the person, tell the truth.  Yes or no, up or down. 
9. If you have one company chosen, you have no doubt developed more questions.  Call the person to whom you spoke and ask for one last meeting.  This is the time when you ask for the product demonstration along with the opportunity to meet a colleague of the person whom you interviewed the last time.

When you request this meeting, you might want to tell the person that this is the last meeting before your final decision.  It is also polite to announce that there is no one else in the running for your services at this point.  Have the meeting.  If you want to join, say so.  Make an appointment for a sign-up session and a short orientation.  You'll be on your way.

Sound like a lot?  Yep.  Look at it this way.  It's your investment.  Knowing what you put into it will make you work harder at making it work.  After all, it's your life, not M-L-M's.  Right?

Yes, there is good money to be made in this field.    Serious money for serious, hard working, smart people.
God bless you.