Reserving Judgment

Yesterday morning I visited the Twitter feed from Stefan Stevenson (@FollowtheFrogs), a writer for the Star-Telegram. I was trying to go back through his account of the previous night’s basketball game between TCU and UNLV which resulted in the biggest win by TCU in more than a decade. But the most recent tweet from him at that time did not mention the win; instead it reported the news of a campus wide drug sting.

As everyone knows by now, the Fort Worth Police Department, in cooperation with TCU, ended an undercover investigation lasting several months with the arrests of 17 students, including 4 football players. Those details weren’t salacious enough for most of us so the rest of the day was spent chasing rumors that the entire football team (or a large majority of them) failed a drug test; that more arrests were forthcoming; that the University covered up illegal drug activity; that one of the suspects yelled obscenities at the local media upon being released from jail and on and on.

We relish this stuff. The more false innuendo and dirty rumors the better. The facts don’t sate our rabid desire for scandal. And we as individuals are not central enough to the story line so we have to inject ourselves smack dab into the middle by spreading a bunch of “I heard x” and “someone told me y.” We especially like it if it happens at a rival school or if we think someone is getting a comeuppance.

Today there is much hand wringing about an epidemic of drug use and violent cartels at TCU. Depending on whom you listen to the entire administration and/or head coach needs to be fired; the football team needs to be disciplined; the University needs to institute mandatory drug tests. You get the picture.

There is no question that the arrests sounded the alarm that there may be a deeper problem here that needs to be addressed. But there is also a disgusting level of sanctimony and a misplaced desire for immediate retribution. There is a columnist who writes today that this will leave a permanent “stain.”

Spare me. Unless you grew up on the set of “Leave it to Beaver” you are aware that a college campus is a microcosm of modern day society. There are drug dealers and drug buyers in society.

But for every two bit dope dealer there are scores of students who work hard, go to class and live with integrity. And that is, in no way, meant to imply that even some of the students arrested aren’t, on the whole, good kids who happened to make dreadfully stupid mistakes. Therefore, as difficult and un-sexy as it may be, I’ll reserve judgment.

This country was founded upon the principal of due process. I don’t give a damn how much you believe these guys are guilty, it’s still up to the State to prove it. And thank goodness for that. In fact, one need look no further than the arrest warrants issued yesterday for proof that due process is such a vital cornerstone of our rights. One of the arrest warrants named an Austin Carpenter, complete with his picture. Unfortunately, the police officer made a mistake in identity. So as Austin Carpenter was getting ready to walk into a job interview, he received a call from his brother informing him that his name and picture were being broadcast on televisions across the metroplex. The police later apologized for the error. I’m sure that made Mr. Carpenter feel better.

(As an aside, the Austin Carpenter mistake will be front and center when it comes to attacking the accuracy of the identification of these suspects. Trust me, this error will negatively impact the prosecution of every case.)

Until the cases are concluded I’ll try to focus on the students who get lost in the glare of the gossip-students like Hank Thorns who scored 32 points (12 in overtime) to rally TCU past eleventh ranked UNLV on Tuesday night. Yep, the Runnin’ Rebels.  Remember those outlaws?

The Low Road

 

Lately, instead of exorcising my demons, I’ve been exercising them, getting them ready for what promises to be an acrimonious year. So we’ve been in the gym, my demons and me, and we are ready for action.

We have been traversing the well worn ruts of the legal super highway often referred to as the Low Road. It’s a road I know well. It’s populated with a mix of fabricators, fibbers and falsifiers. It has several off ramps to other streets like Chickenshit Lane and Fine Print Avenue. These will eventually take you to neighborhoods like Lawyerville and Con City. If you’re just passing through and you remember to keep your windows rolled up, it can be an entertaining sojourn. If you have to stop for any reason, beware.

My melodramatic metaphor notwithstanding, it has indeed been a rocky start to the new year. Clients are always best served by a lawyer who stays above the fray, avoids the petty day to day skirmishes and takes a long term view. But an occasional romp in the mud is often too delicious to pass up. So I’ve managed to get a little dirty.

When I’m on the Low Road, I can rationalize just about every action. “He deserved it” or “it was the only way to get their attention” or “the end will justify the means.”  It can certainly be entertaining. I had a hearing recently where I tried to use my iPad. Unfortunately I forgot to bring a cord I needed to display the screen. The other lawyer had a cord and his legal assistant offered to let me use it. The lawyer reached over and stopped her from offering the cord. Low Road stuff.

Typically, I am never present when there is retribution for Low Road antics. But this day I was lucky. As I left the parking garage I saw the lawyer struggling to start his car. It seems he needed a jump start. So I waved and sped away…as quickly as possible….to the Low Road.

I’m just starting to realize that the Low Road runs in circles. It’s fun at first, but it can be exhausting. It runs you round and round and never gets you anywhere of substance. Traveling the Low Road always exacts a toll. It may be indiscernible at first but the cumulative effect is harmful. A cheap shot here, a retaliatory gesture there.

But the High Road is different. First of all, it’s wide open up there because not many people use it. It’s also rather smooth once you learn to beat back the periodic allure of the Low Road. And without question it serves the best interests of your client and your profession. The High Road is inexorably long and tedious but it doesn’t run you in circles. It requires patience and perspective. It often puts you at odds with your clients but it is always worth the trouble. And it can be beneficial.

I had a collection case against an extremely difficult lawyer late last year. We were close to settling the case the Friday before trial but it blew up over some completely irrelevant sticking point. So I worked all weekend to prepare for trial and when I arrived at the court house Monday morning the opposing lawyer was nowhere to be found. The Judge called the case for trial and, since the other lawyer failed to appear, we won by default. Perfect.

That afternoon the other lawyer called and he was desperate. He explained that a family emergency had taken all of his attention and he was just unable to make it to Court that morning. He explained the emergency and it was either a fantastic work of fiction or one tragic tale. It didn’t really matter to me. But he was going to file a Motion for New Trial and wanted to know whether I was opposed. “Of course not,” I found myself saying.

This, I am sure, caught him off guard. He was granted his Motion and….he was still a jerk after that. We eventually tried the case and won. But his client received a full hearing on the merits and we were awarded a well-deserved and hard fought judgment.

Whether you’re chasing demons or riding with them the Low Road is a short cut. It may get you there faster but there is always a price if not to you then to your client or to the system.

It is reminiscent of the scene from A Man For All Seasons between Sir Thomas More and William Roper:

Roper: So you would give the devil the benefit of the law?

Sir Thomas More: Yes. What would you do? Cut a great road through the law to get at the Devil?

Roper: I’d cut down every law in England to do that.

Sir Thomas More: Oh? And when the last law was down, and the devil turned round on you, where would you hide, Roper, the laws all being flat?

 

 

 

 

The Family Christmas Letter

Ah yes, the Christmas letter. You know what I’m talking about. The letter that only the bravest of families dares to send. I think most of us harbor a secret desire to send such a letter. So I’m here for you. I am going to provide a template for those of you who need a little assistance. It’s a multiple choice format so it should cover almost every contingency.

a. Happy Hannukah

b. Merry Christmas

c. Word Up 

Greetings from (a. your hometown; b. Loserville; c. family rehab). We have had such a (a. challenging; b. rewarding; c. shitty) year. Everyone in our family is super (a. excited b. morose c. inebriated) for the holidays. We hope you are too! 

The past year holds so many (a. wonderful b. painful c. haunting) memories. We had the (a. good; b. mis-; c. ruinous) fortune of having (a. my mother-in-law; b. our transgendered nephew; c. a homeless carnival worker) move in with us. It is a (a. blessed; b. Jerry Springer-esque; c. scarringly dysfunctional ) situation and we are (a. trying to make the best of it; b. having the locks changed this afternoon; c. doing internet searches for  clever ways to dispose of human remains). 

Dad is (a. having a great year; b. missing and presumed dead; c. dating his therapist). He is just as (a. driven; b. co-dependent; c. manic-depressive and arbitrary) as ever. As he likes to say every year at this time: (a. “God Bless Us- Everyone!” b. “Being stupid is its own reward” c. “If you think some fat ass in a red suit is gonna get credit for all of my hard work, think again!!”). 

Mom is (a. Junior League President; b. practicing for an upcoming role on the reality TV show “Cougarville”; c. testing the chemical boundaries of Ambien mixed with chardonnay).  She recently had to (a. serve on a committee at church to choose a new Pastor; b. punch the bitch at the dry cleaners for sporting an attitude; c. make restitution to the PTA for some accounting irregularities). It was truly (a. heartwarming; b. epic; c. You-Tube worthy) but in the end it should (a. work out for the best; b. blow up in our faces; c. lead to a lengthy prison sentence). 

Our son is working (a. for a tech start-up; b. for the largest meth lab in Wise County; c. on his burp rendition of “Beethoven’s Sixth Symphony”). He and his co-workers (a. just launched a highly successful IPO; b. charred several hundred acres and burned down twelve mobile homes in a five alarm fire; c. hacked into the computers at Wal-Mart corporate headquarters and stole thousands of social security numbers). We are (a. waiting for him to buy us our dream home in Colorado; b. getting ready to send his “talents” to South Beach; c. so done with him). 

Our daughter is (a. an honor student and cheerleader; b. a wiccan cult leader; c. a gluten free vegan). She always (a. volunteers at the local food pantry; b. finds new places on her body to pierce; c. smells like fritos and dirty socks). We can’t wait for her to (a. enroll at Yale next year; b. STFU; c. buy some shampoo and a razor). 

That’s all for this year! Be sure to (a. look us up if you’re in the neighborhood; b. keep on a-walkin’ if our Van’s a-rockin’; c.  smoke ‘em if you’ve got ‘em). 

The ____________ Family

Hands to Clasp

I love the Grinch. After all, I’m a lawyer. I don’t love him because of the heartwarming way he teaches us all the true meaning of Christmas. In fact I turn off the last 5 minutes of the show, just around the time he has gathered his booty and starts to make his way back up the mountain.

I love him because of his ruthlessness. I imagine the Whos are probably way behind on their house payment or sitting around collecting welfare checks. The evidence is everywhere. They live in a ring of houses, surrounded by beautiful mountains with no visible means of economic support. No factories, no office buildings. Yet somehow they are able to give their kids gar ginkers AND tar tinkers for Christmas. Yeah right.

It has probably had a deleterious effect on my kids. One Christmas when my son was about 7 years old, he and I joined a group from our church to go caroling to the “shut-ins”. He kept calling them the “shut-ups” and when we sang “We Wish You A Merry Christmas” his version went:

“Now bring us some friggin’ pudding, now bring us some friggin’ pudding, now   bring us some friggin’ pudding and BRING SOME RIGHT NOW!!!”

The last four words were sung with a particularly disturbing gusto.

The only Christmas spirit I usually allow myself is to daydream about golden days of legal yore. A time when one could troll the ancient yuletide carol. I imagine what it would be like to represent eight maids a milking against the ten lords a leaping for equal pay and benefits. I’d give my left chestnut to have been the lawyer for one of the three wise men, the one with the gold.

Then my legal assistant threw a curve ball. She suggested our office sponsor a family through the Christmas Connection. I frequently tune her out so she mistook my grunt and nod for acquiescence.  Then she called to make arrangements. They were out of families. Thank goodness. At least we tried. She started to hang up when she heard footsteps approach the lady on the other end of the line. “Oh wait”, the lady said. “Here’s a new one.”

This family’s house burned to the ground the day before Thanksgiving. Now they have an extended family of 19 living in a 3 bedroom apartment. And one of them delivered a baby on Thanksgiving Day. The list they prepared had one request: Everything.

“Of course” I muttered to my cynical self. But this seemed like a rather audacious request even by the lowly standards of the greediest welfare frauds. While I busily prepared collection letters, my employees contacted the family and went shopping. They threw themselves into the project with enthusiasm and selflessness. They bought food, blankets, baby clothes, diapers, wipes, toys, even a Christmas tree. On Tuesday they went to drop off the gifts. All I had to do was write the check.

When they returned, my staff told me that this family misstated what they needed when they said “everything.” They needed anything. The newborn did not have a crib. She has been sleeping in a broken car seat. When the grandmother saw a sack of bath towels she clutched one to her chest and started to bawl. A towel.

“So they weren’t drinking beer they bought with my tax dollar?”

“And they weren’t wearing fancy jerseys and dressed up like a baller?”

“Did they try to hide their iPhones and pretend they didn’t holler?” I asked in my best Dr. Seuss verse.

No. None of that. They just cried. And smiled. And thanked everyone. And retreated to their corner of the world where they will rely on faith-and each other- to make it through.

But I don’t want you to think it’s all sugar plum fairies and candy canes over here. Next week I’m meeting with a Who about an injury she suffered from a defective jing tingler. And the Grinch is coming by to see me. His insurance company dropped him because of an enlarged heart. I’ve heard that can be a hazardous condition.

My Letter to American Airlines

Dear American Airlines:

Every time I fly on one of your planes, it’s a beating. And every time I talk to anyone else who has flown on one of your planes, they describe the experience by using some combination of the words “ass” and “whip.”

Then I read yesterday that you filed for bankruptcy. You have a near monopoly on certain routes. The last several times I have flown, the ticket cost a small fortune and the flight has been oversold. You extort cash for headphones that are as acoustically viable as an empty can of green beans with a string, blankets and pillows that should be quarantined by the Centers for Disease Control, and extra baggage. It now occurs to me that at 20 cents per share I could carry on my baggage and use the $50 fee to buy half your company. But I’m not here to bitch. I’m here to help.

My lawyer friends who handle bankruptcies advertise the process as a way to get a “fresh start.” I can’t help you with the number crunching but I can offer some suggestions as to other ways you can use bankruptcy to completely change the culture at American Airlines. Doing so will greatly impact the future viability of your company.

So here goes:

1. Make peace with your employees. There is a saying that to injure your opponent is to injure yourself. “But the unions are making petty, infuriating, stupid demands,” you say. No shit. They’re unions. But unions are made up of people, most of whom are more interested in the long term success of your company than in getting a hotel room away from an ice machine on layovers. When they see the CEO pocket $17 million in compensation during the 3 years leading to bankruptcy, they don’t want to hear you talk about concessions. And, contrary to what you may believe, it’s not really about the money, it’s about the message. Your employees do not mind sacrifice, they just want management to share a little of the sacrifice.

The relations have grown so acrimonious you need to get rid of every single person who has been on your side of the negotiating table and challenge the unions to do the same. It is a bold move that will signal your willingness to try something different. The real problem with breeding acrimony is that it filters down and permeates every aspect of your company, which brings me to my second suggestion.

2. Get a new vibe. You’ve seen the red neck bumper sticker that reads “When Momma ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.” Well your employees are “Momma” and they’re making your customers unhappy. Gate attendants look and act miserable. Flight attendants wear dour expressions. There is no spark, no pizazz, no fun. Hire 150 “American Airlines Amusement Ambassadors” whose only job is to walk your gates, fly your planes meet with your employees and learn how to make the experience of flying more enjoyable. Then give them the power to do something about it. This is like the restaurant manager who comes to your table and asks “How was your meal this evening? Did we meet your expectations?” This is the guy who calls the baggage handlers and kindly tells them to get the bags from Flight 162 to the baggage carousel tout sweet or who gives a personal assurance that a lost bag will be tracked down and delivered to the traveler by a certain time. This is the woman who intervenes and makes it right when a passenger gets bumped. Do not put this person behind an information desk. This person needs to be shaking hands, kissing babies, guarding luggage while a harried Mom runs to the rest room.

3. Offer creature comforts. Your gate waiting areas are horrendous. I know you are leasing the gates and that the gates are the responsibility of the airport. So what? Spend some money and upgrade the waiting areas or demand that your landlord do so. Segregate areas for families with children, offer more space to place luggage and spread out. Provide free Wi-Fi and multiple electrical outlets/charging stations. This is just the beginning. Survey the customer to find out what else they might appreciate. This fosters a dialogue with the allies who are most crucial to your success, the flying public.

4. Simplify. When I try to make a reservation at aa.com I feel like I am wandering through a maze constructed by Rube Goldberg’s demonic half-brother. The combinations of schedules and fares change by the minute and it’s almost impossible to find any comfort with the options. It’s similar to buying a used car. Every time I submit my destination and dates of travel, your website is the cyber-salesman winking at me and telling me “Let me go check with my manager and see if we can work this deal.”

For example, I recently decided to try to use my Aadvantage miles. I entered my information attempting several different dates for travel. Each time the response was “Aadvantage miles are not able to be used on the selected dates. Please try again.” Well here’s a novel idea. Why don’t I tell you how many miles I have and where I want to go and you can tell me when I can go there and when I can return? Simple.

5. Communicate. Give information. Get feedback. Start a conversation. People want to be informed. And lose the semantics. Every time I ask whether one of your planes is going to be on time the answer is: “It’s showing on time” or “It’s scheduled to be on time.” Oh, so you didn’t schedule it to arrive late? Okay. Gotcha.

If you screwed up a reservation, use a little common sense customer service and make it right. It will come back to you in spades. If a plane is going to be late, give frequent, honest updates. You might even try a little self deprecating fun. “The plane will be about 30 minutes late today because our computer is mistakenly displaying all of your names in Mandarin Chinese. No but seriously we are trying to locate a new sensor device for the flexor valve.” Then follow up every 10 minutes with additional updates. This will help disarm most people’s bitch mechanism.

That’s all I have for now. I can’t help your bean counters or your fuel hedgers or your passenger load efficiency experts but I do know that all of the concessions you achieve with bankruptcy will not make a whit of difference if you still offer a shitty product basted in a toxic culture.

Yours truly,

Tim Hoch

Seven Habits

The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People by Stephen Covey has sold over 15 million copies. I started to buy it the other day but I stopped. I thought I would try my hand at my own set of seven habits first. This is a little misleading because my ideas are a curate’s egg of equal parts wisdom and foolishness that I have picked up over the years.

The following habits, therefore, come with an advance disclaimer. I have learned my best habits from observing successful people. I don’t want to be overly self-deprecating so I must add that most of my bad habits I have been able to develop on my own.

I will be curious to see whether any of these seven habits end up resembling those of Mr. Covey. So here goes:

1. Focus brings results. This sounds simple. It is not. I have a short attention span and diverse interests so this is a constant struggle for me. Most successful people concentrate on, and develop, only a very few talents or projects. I just finished the Steve Jobs biography. When he returned to Apple after starting NeXT and buying Pixar, Apple was about 90 days away from bankruptcy. They had a bloated staff and over 30 product lines. He cut the number of product lines to four and decided that Apple was going to make the best products in those four lines. Needless to say his single minded focus brought results.

2. Be precise. This is about executing your vision. In order to do this you have to be a good communicator. People need clear and concise direction. If you are having trouble articulating your vision, please return to number 1 above.

3. Pursue only the adjacent possible. I stole the term “adjacent possible” from a book I read recently by Steven Johnson called Where Good Ideas Come From: The Natural History of Innovation. I’ll give you an example. I recently met with a friend who is trying to develop an application for the iPhone. I can’t tell you the details because I am sworn to secrecy, but it seems to be a creative solution to oft encountered home repair problems. Unfortunately my friend knows nothing about the development of applications for smart phones. His idea will only get him so far.

There is almost always a tedious progression that accompanies progress. Think of it as a large mansion. You and your idea are downstairs in the basement and you need to get to the roof. The only possible way for you to get there is by navigating the adjacent rooms until you find the stairs, then climbing to the top, step by step. The only way to skip ahead leads us to the next rule.

4. Collaborate. There are two ways to view the adjacent possible. In a sense it is highly restrictive. In another sense it is without boundaries. After all, it is not called the adjacent impossible. The easiest way to push the boundaries of the adjacent possible is to collaborate with others. One will always equal one. With collaboration, one plus one leads to multiple possibilities. Perhaps your collaborator is already on the roof and can show you how to take the elevator instead of the stairs.

5. Confidence. You will not be successful because of who you are. You will be successful because of who you think you are. If you approach each task with confidence you will greatly improve your chance of success.

6. Curiosity. Successful people seek different ideas. They explore alternatives. They try new things. They embrace differences of opinion. This habit may force you to embrace the next, and final, habit.

7. Copycat. Let’s be realistic, history has given us very few true innovators. Thomas Edison, Henry Ford, Steve Jobs, Larry Page and Sergei Brin. Most successful businesses are copycats. This is not meant to be a negative. They have taken an existing idea and vastly improved it. Look at what Starbucks did to the local coffee shop. Look what Nike has done for athletic apparel. Look what I’ve done to poor Steven Covey.

Thank You for the Music

My daughter was upset a few years ago, before she really knew better, when a friend told her: “Your dad sings all the time.” My daughter thought the friend meant that her dad sang too much which, most likely, she did and which, most improbably, I did. I tried to comfort her by telling her that her friend had the Song Sung Blues.

“What’s that?” she asked, whereupon I launched into an over the top version of the song bearing the same name by Neil Diamond.

“Sonnnng sunnnng blues, everybody knows one; Soooonnng Sunnng blues, every garden grows one.”

My daughter groaned. “I’m serious. You need to stop singing so much.”

She then explained that every time we have a conversation about something, I find a way to turn it in to some goofy song from my child hood. It needed to stop right away, she said.

A bit crestfallen I polled the rest of my family to see whether they agreed. I was met with a chorus of “yesses.” It was then I realized I had a problem and I assured her that I would try to be more careful, especially around her friends. So I set out to find the etiology of my melody malady.

Just like everyone else who has some screwed up social pathology, I blame my mom. Since I was a kid she surrounded our family with music. But it wasn’t always mirthful. One particularly scarring episode occurred when I was 12 years old. I was in the fifth grade at Christ the King school having transferred from West Nichols Hills elementary earlier that year. One fateful afternoon I learned there was to be a talent show.

Most of the kids split into groups but since I didn’t know anyone I was going to be a solo act. No problem, I thought, I’d rather not share the stage anyway. This was going to be an important debut.

I did a little reconnaissance to gauge the competition. The year was 1975 and we were in the earliest stages of the disco craze. One group would dance to The Hustle. Another act was working on an imitation of Get Down Tonight by K.C. & The Sunshine Band. This was cutting edge stuff.

I went home and told my mom about the show and I was eager to hear her suggestions. She thought awhile and said: “How about a cowboy song?”

“A c-c-cowboy song?”

She was already rifling through the song books under the cushion on the piano bench looking for the perfect number as she painted a mental tableau. “You can wear that western suit jacket we bought at Shepler’s, you can pretend you’re strumming a guitar, we can borrow some chaps from the costume lady at Betty Stockard’s dance studio…”

She plucked 62 Cowboy Campfire Songs from the bench and went full throat. She worked her way through “Yellow Rose of Texas” and “Happy Trails.” My mom has the kind of voice that leaves you transfixed. So much so that with embarrassingly little protest I found myself deciding to perform “Don’t Fence Me In,” a Cole Porter song made famous in the film of the same name in…..1945. Good gawd.

I can’t tell you what a disaster the show was because I blacked out from embarrassment about 30 seconds into my act and everything within five hours of either side of the show has been repressed. Those memories have taken up residence somewhere between the band director demonstrating for our eighth grade class how to French kiss and the youth director in sixth grade teaching a few of us the meaning of “peach fuzz.”

But this is an unfair portrait of the beautiful legacy of music bestowed by my mom. She went to college on a voice scholarship. And she always wanted me to play an instrument or sing in the choir. So I took up the trumpet and I performed in the high school musicals. And I’ve been embarrassing myself, and now my own family, ever since.

My mom still has the prettiest voice in the congregation at Sunday Mass but her lesson had nothing to do with how melodious the sound. To her, all music is to be celebrated and enjoyed. From church hymns to cowboy songs to even the lame warbles of a goofy dad. Because music is about more than the notes. It’s about the emotional imprint that transcends a written or spoken word. It smooths the rough edges of life; it colors the soul. And it is a gift to be treasured.

So if someone has shared with you the gift, tell them thank you for the music, for giving it to you.

The Good Doctor

Robert Frost was wrong. Growing up as a kid on Guilford Lane in Oklahoma City, we had a fence with our neighbors, the Crosbys. But we didn’t need one. There was Dr. Crosby. All the grown-ups called him Mel but when I saw him this summer at my Dad’s 80th birthday party I still called him “Doctor Crosby.” There is his wife Joanne who shared the same name as my mom, always ready with a smile and a chocolate chip cookie. Then there is Sarah, my second sister. She and I played football, raced matchbox cars and smoked grapevine together. A kid couldn’t have gotten better neighbors out of central casting.

Doctor Crosby died this past weekend. He had been in Dallas the previous weekend for the OU/Texas game when he suffered a massive stroke. I only wish he had been able to watch the Sooners dismantle the Longhorns that next day but, as we know, tomorrow is promised to no one.

His funeral was Tuesday. I missed it because I was waiting for a Judge to call me to trial on a case about which I will not remember the result or the issues six months from now. But I’ll remember Dr. Crosby.

He was a respected OB/Gyn and professor at OU Health Sciences Center. He did ground breaking work on the effects of safety belts on pregnant baboons. He went to Stanford and he was revered by many.

But I never really knew any of that. To me he was just the perfect neighbor. When my Dad was on the road I felt more secure knowing he was right next door. He took me to an OU football game and swimming at Faculty House when I was a kid and had no business going to either one. He and my Dad would often joke about yard work, and wives, and kids. I was Dennis the Menace to his Mr. Wilson.

When my wife was pregnant with our first child I was worried because she had had a few glasses of wine before we found out she was pregnant. I wanted Dr. Crosby’s professional opinion on whether we should prepare for massive birth defects. He laughed and told me that his own Mom drank a couple of shots of bourbon every night she was pregnant with him. I’m not sure whether it was true but it had the intended effect. I stopped worrying. Dr. Crosby had a wonderful way of doing that. Giving you a sense of comfort. What a gift and what a neighbor. Rest in peace good neighbor. And thank you.

Fear Less

I ran the equivalent of a full marathon on my worry treadmill the other night. I wasn’t really in shape to do it, but I did it anyway. I woke up about 3:30 a.m. and wondered whether all of my kids were home. Got up to check and they were all safe. Whew. But the treadmill had started and when I got back to bed I was already in a steady jog.

My son started college last week. How will he do? I have a response to a motion for summary judgment due soon. Have I missed anything there? I am about to launch a new business venture which will require a good size commitment of time and capital. What if it goes bust? And then there is the stock market, the overall economy, global warming, a festering issue with an employee, the knock under the hood of the car, and the suspicious mole on my arm that is quite improbably Stage 4 melanoma. By now I’m in a full sprint.

I cannot be the only one who thinks this way, can I?

Not according to John Milton, author of Paradise Lost who wrote: The mind is its own place and in itself, can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.

My working theory is that if you don’t carry around an ample load of fear you are either an ignoramus or a sociopath or heavily medicated. A doctor friend of mine runs a sleep clinic. He has patients lined up out the door. He says that the overarching subclinical diagnosis in most of his sleep deprived patients is anxiety, worry, fear.

And why not? We love fear. We are surrounded by fear. Just turn on the news. We gravitate toward fear. Fear sells. Marketers find a greater buyer’s response to the downside associated with loss than the upside of gain. This is known as the loss avoidance theory. We operate based largely on fear.

I used to go on these midnight fear runs frequently but I had not been on one in a while. So I was ill prepared to meet it head on.

It took me awhile to work through my well worn remedies. Rote prayer, counting sheep and relaxation exercises have all worked in the past but were ineffective this night. I was hopelessly stuck on the self perpetuating track psychologists refer to as the “negative feedback loop.”

Then I decided to take the exercise to a higher plane. I started to look beyond the narcissistic fears that were holding me hostage and examine broader themes in my life. Am I living a life of conviction? Do I wake up with a purpose every day? Am I treating people fairly? Do I have a genuine concern for the well being of others?

And even if my fears come true, is that such a bad thing? Don’t we need adversity and trauma to reach higher levels of personal fulfillment and growth?

Below is a video clip of Conan O’Brien giving the 2011 commencement address at Dartmouth. No matter what you think about Conan,  I strongly encourage you to watch this. Toward the end of his speech he tells the story of losing his show to Jay Leno. He was devastated and he spent the next year completely lost. And it turned out to be one of the most rewarding years of his life. He has a great quote: There are few things in life more liberating than having your worst fears realized. Talk about perspective.

The bottom line is this. You are not afraid because you think your son or daughter is ill-prepared for life. Or because your retirement account has taken a beating. Or because of Hurricane Irene. Those are mere distractions from the real issue. You are fearful because you are not living the life that you had imagined for yourself.  You are not embracing challenges. You are operating out of loss avoidance rather than gain potential. You are not asking the tough questions.

Unfortunately a word of caution is in order. Asking these tough questions doesn’t mean you will get to sleep any faster. In fact these may cause you to sleep less. But at least your thoughts will be constructive and hopeful rather than destructive and petty. And if you need someone to help you work through some of these issues, give me a call. I’ll probably be up anyway.

Gray Eggs and Ham

I was with my breakfast group on Friday morning when one of my friends asked about my political affiliation. I had to pause a bit before answering. I have probably voted for more Democrats than Republicans lately, but over the long haul it has been about an even mix. Either way I usually hold my nose. So, I didn’t have a ready answer.

But I did recount a recent incident that stirred my political predilections. I was sitting in my office one afternoon when a nice young firefighter came in. I greeted him and asked what we could do for him. He was checking to make sure we had fire extinguishers and that they were in working order. We had one, but the receipt showing date of purchase was not taped to the outside so he wrote us up.

In the past month I have been audited by my bank (which had to audit me as part of their upcoming audit); I have had to provide classes on company time for 3 employees who have to pass a new federally mandated national licensing exam (total cost per employee approximately $1000); I have been audited by the Texas Workforce Commission (one day); I have been audited by the Texas Office of Consumer Credit Commissioner (3 days); I have submitted 3 separate government reports; and had my fire extinguishers checked by a freshly scrubbed newbie.

These events triggered some serious white man rage. I was going to try to counter balance this rage with a healthy dose of white man guilt by going to see “The Help” later this week. But instead I decided to put myself through a quick examination of where I currently stand on various issues.

I don’t talk about politics too often. I think it’s largely a game of egos and obscene money on both sides of the aisle. In terms of whorish behavior I don’t think there’s a dime’s worth of difference between the two parties. And there are too many petty distractions. The Obama birth certificate bullshit or the investigation into the investment by Rick Perry in a video chain that sold (“gasp”) pornographic videos. He wanted the investment to make money I presume.

I am mystified by people who see the world in absolutes. I have never been the type to do this. To me the world screams shades of gray and every other color in the spectrum. I also try to avoid categorizing and demonizing people who disagree with me.

But categorizing and demonizing could have made this such an elementary exercise. For example, look at this fella. I’m probably “for” everything he is “against.”

Or this guy. Representative David Wu, Democrat from Oregon. I’m probably “against” everything he is “for.”

But one appears to be a nut job right winger and the other appears to be a nut job left winger. So where do I stand? Here is my manifesto for today. This is subject to ongoing revision.

1. I believe most Americans are hard working, decent people who want to earn an honest, fair wage.
2. I believe most privately held corporations understand the importance of accountability and try to do the right thing.
3. I believe most publicly traded corporations also want to be good corporate citizens but are too often beholden to earnings and Wall Street.
4. I know that the only thing that will save our future is the health and prosperity of these very corporations.
5. I believe there is far too much government waste and regulation. Pensions and federal payrolls are out of control. When a school superintendent makes $375,000 per year and can retire at age 60 with a pension that pays 80% of his salary, it is a recipe for disaster. The same holds true when a firefighter is going from business to business checking fire extinguishers instead of fighting fires. There should be radical cuts in government spending. But we will not work our way out of debt by spending cuts alone.
6. I believe in a flat tax. But until that is accomplished I don’t think we should rule out the expiration of the Bush tax cuts. I often hear the argument that 50% of the population pays no income tax at all. However the bottom 50 % of wage earners account for about 2.5 % of the wealth in this country. Even if you add every one of these people to the tax rolls you will not move the needle in any meaningful way. Bill Clinton raised taxes and presided over one of the longest periods of economic prosperity in our history. Even Ronald Reagan (after his 1981 tax cuts and when unemployment was above 10%) raised taxes 7 times during his 2 terms.
7. I believe in term limits.
8. I think the debate surrounding most social issues has been hijacked by the extremists in both parties.
9. I believe our courts, while imperfect, are the only places where average Americans still have a fighting chance. As a result I am opposed to most tort reform.
10. I think the single biggest problem we face is an uneducated workforce. But our money should go to teachers and not administrators. I believe teachers unions are only interested in preserving the status quo. The status quo will not work. We need to radically rethink the way we educate our children. According to UNESCO, in the next 30 years more people will be graduating from college than the number combined since the beginning of history. As Tom Friedman wrote: We had to find our job; our kids will have to invent their job.

11. I believe we should have a sensible immigration policy that gives immigrants an opportunity to come here and establish citizenship. (Here I sound like a Democrat but keep in mind that Ronald Reagan granted amnesty to over 3 million illegal aliens during his Presidency.) Get these folks out of the shadows and onto the tax rolls.

12. I believe that gays should be accorded the right to establish a legally recognized marital union.

13. I believe in a strong, smart, nimble, mobile military. But there is no way we can sustain our military budgets as they currently stand. I also believe the “trade the devil you know for the devil you don’t” foreign policy in the name of democracy, while perhaps well intentioned, is short sighted and ultimately disastrous. (eg. Iraq, Libya).

14. I believe global warming is real and needs to be addressed. I also believe that it makes good business sense for corporations to reduce their carbon emissions.

So where does that leave me? Ah the hell with restraint and decorum. It really is easier to demonize. So I  guess I’m somewhere between

And

Out here in a sea of gray.