Time to Self-Publish?

The Benjamin Franklin Quote Desktop Ornament 

     I do like to write.
     There is a great pleasure in this for me.  Mostly, I do it for myself.  I write because I have to or want to.  I am never sure which, but most certainly a combination of wanting to and having to.  I also write to keep in touch with friends and family.  So, I do want others to read what I have written and appreciate an audience as much as the next person.  
     When I was part of BNI during the Great Recession, we had a secret Santa and my secret Santa gave me a paperweight or desk ornament with a quote from Benjamin Franklin:  "Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing."  I love this quote from the great statesman, scientist, and philosopher.   I am, especially at my current age, on the "write something worth reading" side of this scale. 
     I have wanted to be published.  I not only want to publish a book but I want to publish several.  I would settle for self-published but prefer to get paid for it.  I would love to be a Sydney Harris.  I would love to have books of poems published and several novels.  In short, I would love to generate some revenue, part of my salary from writing.  Last year, my worst year of blogging, I would have said it is a pipe dream.  This year I am feeling more energized about it and ready to think about doing something about.  
     Note: I did say I am ready to think about doing something about it.  I often use a quote/motto when I am writing or thinking about weight loss and control. "Knowing never equals doing."  I would modify that quote in the case of self-publishing:  "Aspiring never equals doing either."
     I do have four volumes of poetry, countless haikus beyond that, and the entire body of work in this blog to work on.  Three favorite MBA students of mine were not overly impressed with the textbook we used in a graduate operations management course in the term that just ended.  I had them read some of my professional blogs as part of the course.  All three have been pushing for me to write my own course materials and eventually textbooks of my own.  Of course, they are right.
     Why haven't I done these yet?  Self-publishing a book of poems or the best of this blog is a simple matter of cutting, pasting, formatting, creating a table of contents, some cover art, and such.  The writing of the material is done and has been done for years.  Oh yes, my friend Gian insists that I would have to have it all proofread and edited as I am prone to posting items with spelling and grammatical errors in them.  
     I know I have used that Benjamin Franklin quote before in a posting.  Sure enough, a blogger search revealed that I used it a post from March 4, 2013, almost five years ago, titled Not Quitting. There was another great quote I used in that piece:  
           A Professional Writer is
           an Amateur Writer
           Who Didn't Quit.

     I do need to do this.  Maybe I should push myself to publish a book of poems or haikus along with the Best of This Side of Fifty in 2019.  That sounds like a wonderful resolution for the coming year.
     Methinks I just created my first resolution for 2019.

Christmas 2018

Wish you all could've joined us

     It is Christmas morning.
     It is a crisp, coldish, 35 degrees out.  It is pretty quiet in the house.  My wife is sleeping and it is well-deserved given the days and nights she put in preparing for our fabulous Christmas Eve family gathering and dinner.  It is just the two of us.  Our daughter and her family are at home in Los Angeles and were unable to travel here:  Feeling Thankful.   Our son and his family are in New York and unable to travel here because they are expecting in February!
     I thought I would revive a This Side of Fifty Tradition and pen a Christmas Morning letter to one and all.  I have been writing and distributing a monthly letter since February of 2004.  In 2009, it turned into this blog.  In 2004, 2005, and 2008, I wrote Christmas themed letters.  My favorite of those was the December 2005 one in which I parodied the Christmas letters we often get in Christmas Cards.  In 2010, I began writing a Christmas Card kind of letter or blog post.  I was up earlier than everyone else.  It was dark, I had a cup of coffee nearby, the world was still, and I would pen a stream of consciousness letter mostly thankful for all the people I know but would not be that Christmas Day.
     Note that my friend Ara would also tease me about the opening of those letters e.g "it is Christmas morning, it is dark still, I have a cup of coffee at hand, and the house and world is peacefully quiet yada yada yada."  He considered it my version of the classic, "it was a dark and stormy night..."  Truth be told, he was spot on.

Merry Christmas, Feliz Navidad, Shnorhavor Surp Dznunt

     It was a pleasures to pen those letters.  I continued it each year through 2016.  I did not write one in 2017.  I only blogged eight times that year.  I am not sure why.  I was busy at the university.  I got out of the habit and I hated that I got out of the habit.  The habit of daily writing and blogging was something I was proud of and it was my thing.  I did not like that I let it lapse so badly.  On New Year's Day, I resolved to write more.  I am pleased to say that this and quitting smoking cigarettes in 1990 are by a long shot the best resolutions I have ever made and kept.  They might be only two I have ever kept.  With this posting, I have 91 postings this year which eclipsed the previous high which was 53 in 2011.  I have been looking forward to writing this letter all year.
     Last evening, as is another tradition, my friend Andres called from Uruguay.  It used to be a bigger deal when it was an international call.  But, with WhatsApp, we video chatted for free.  Being in the southern hemisphere, he was enjoying a lovely 86 degree Christmas Eve in a t-shirt and shorts.  It is always a pleasure to hear from him.  Later in the evening, my phone started buzzing.  This time I was getting Christmas greetings and well-wishes from China where I had the privilege to teach in the summers of 2015 and 2016.  It is most thoughtful of these students to keep in touch as they do.  Through the magic of WhatsApp, I have been exchanging greeting with friends in Mexico, Panama, Costa Rica, and elsewhere.
     Allow me to copy/paste the last few paragraphs from my 2012 Christmas Letter:

I know I will not see most of you this year. I am not sure if this is an Armenian or American tradition, but consider this my making the rounds, knocking on your door, wishing you the best of the season, and you inviting me in to meet you and yours over a cup of Christmas cheer. If I could do that in Detroit, Los Angeles, Boston, San Jose, New York, Wilton, Caracas, Mexico City, Yerevan, Istanbul, Buenos Aires, Montevideo, Guatemala City, Panama City, or Ocala, that would be something. Heck, it would be something if I could do that with everyone I know in Chicagoland! 

I close this letter the same way I did last several years. The sentiment is exactly the same with only the year updated. I am delighted to reach out this very quiet moment to friends and family all over the United States and all over the world to convey our warm Christmas wishes to you and yours. Even more so, I hope that 2019 is a year of health, happiness, and prosperity for you and yours.

Logos Taking Over Floor and Field

     It is clear that big time college sports are big time businesses. The revenue comes mostly from men’s football and basketball. Most of the revenue comes from ticket sales, television, and apparel. With big time revenues comes big time marketing. I am not a marketing expert by any means, but I know that keeping the brand top of mind is a huge obsession of the marketeers. Perhaps this explains why the logos have gotten much larger on football fields and basketball arenas. It is quite noticeable, at least to me.
     Consider three Big Ten teams: Michigan (duh), Michigan State, and Ohio State. Here are photos of their basketball floors from the 1980s and 90s and this year. The simple M, S, or O used to be inside the tip-off circle. It defined the home floor in what was a tried, true, and understated view. 

     It was clear whose arena is was.  The school colors were prominent and one letter in the circle.  That was it.  Simple.
     Let's take a look at some more recent photos of the sames three schools.

     Look at how much larger the logos have gotten. They have gotten huge and take up to a third of the court. The Michigan Block M, the Spartan Helmet, and the OSU logo are on screen during at least 50-70% of the game air time. It is pure, big and bold, marketing. The logo is there, front and center. It is subliminal. It is liminal. Given the size, I would argue it is super-liminal. It is marketing and advertising of the brand throughout the entirety of the game. I only wonder why it took them so long to come up with this idea.
     The same has happened in football but nowhere near the degree that it has happened in basketball. In this case we will only look at Michigan Stadium.  This first photo is from the 1969 Michigan - Ohio State game.  Note that the Block M logo is barely visible and incredibly small.  It barely spans 2-3 yards.  There is no contrast, at least in this photo, in the colors.

 

     Look at Michigan Stadium today.  It is bigger, spanning maybe 10 yards, vivid, and clearly visible.

 

     Clearly, I captured these photos off of various youtubes and websites.  I wish they were all the same perspective to give a better idea of what I am talking about, but, I am sure you get the idea.  

     Needless to say, I did a Google search to see if this phenomena of the growing logo had been covered.  Being a kind of esoteric topic, I had to search several variations of the topic to find just one reference, a slide-show, in the USA Today of 2-27-13.  I will close this post with a photo from the USA Today slide show of the massive Kansas Jayhawk logo (you're welcome Ann Hicks!).

Et tu General Motors?

Chevy Volt chevrolet.com 

     I have been critical of the Ford Motor Company in two recent blogs: Another Turnaround?and Ford Drives Sedans Out of their Showrooms. Now it’s GM’s turn.
     First and foremost, they just pulled the plug on their breakthrough electric vehicle. They will cease production of the Chevrolet Volt in March of 2019. I know two people who own the Volt and love them; one is my son-in-law, Michael, and the other is our close family friend, Bob. Bob, who lives in Detroit, is on his second Volt and will be sad that he cannot get a third one. Michael enjoys the gas mileage of his cobalt blue Volt on the congested freeways of Los Angeles but wishes it had a bit more sport car performance.
     Consider what Dan Neil wrote about the Volt in the Wall Street Journalback in 2010 when the breakthrough car was launched:

… Chevrolet Volt, GM's futuristic extended-range electric vehicle and the company's most technologically significant car since the 1912 Cadillac.

A bunch of Midwestern engineers in bad haircuts and cheap wristwatches just out-engineered every other car company on the planet. And they did it in 29 months while the company they worked for was falling apart around them. That was downright heroic. Somebody ought to make a movie.

     Clearly, GM did not know how to market nor how to improve the vehicle so that it would remain the icon that it started out as. It’s demise like that of the Ford Taurus is the epitome of ineptitude that has plagued Ford and GM for decdes.
     The Volt was not the only car that GM was going to cease production of in the next year. Five other vehicles, all sedans, are part of their exodus from passenger cars: Chevrolet Cruze, Chevrolet Impala, Cadillac CT6, Cadillac XTS, and Buick LaCrosse. Like Ford, GM is saying that this is the result of declining car sales as the public has been favoring crossovers, SUVs, and pickup trucks. In the case of GM, this might result in the shuttering of up to five plants and the elimination of up to 14,000 jobs.
     When we were looking for a new car for my wife in 2011, we looked at a LaCrosse. It seemed expensive for what it was. Instead we bought a used Mercedes C300 with about 20K miles on it. The revised Buick line was supposed to appeal to us. Perhaps, if we bought it, we may have liked it, but GM is fighting a huge perception problem. People don’t think their cars are as good as the Japanese and German cars in the same class. We valued a two-year-old Mercedes with mileage over a new LaCrosse. There is something wrong with that and, as the consumer, it is not my problem. It is one of many problems GM has not been able to solve.
     Cadillac? It was once the epitome of luxury cars in this country. You knew you had made it when you bought a Cadillac. Growing up, I always heard people praising an impressive but unrelated product by calling it the Cadillac of this and that. “This is the Cadillac of baby strollers.” Or, “That is the Cadillac kitchen tables.” But, no longer. They

The Old GM HQ in Detroit

still make a good car but when looking at the market shares of luxury cars in 2017, Mercedes, Lexus, BMW, and Audi are all ahead of Cadillac. Here is what Car and Driversaid about the XTS that is being discontinued: “The XTS may not be the best of its high-luxury bunch, but it is one of the cheapest… The XTS is a competent and relatively affordable retirement cruiser, but it can’t truly compete with the best in this class.” The XTS sells for 52% of what the Mercedes S Class sells for and 73% of the BMW 7-Series, but sales are so low that the car is being dropped.
     In 2014, GM made a lot of hoopla of moving the offices of the Cadillac Division to New York City. No US automaker has ever done anything like that. I remember when I moved to Connecticut and worked in Manhattan, I thought that every auto executive should come out here and drive their cars around the hills and winding roads of Connecticut and then into Manhattan. My thought they would understand why the Germans were beating the pants off the US luxury brands. With the Cadillac move, I thought just maybe GM was doing something right and would become competitive in a market they owned for decades. It did not work. On September 28, 2018, GM announced it was moving their 110-person Cadillac team back to Detroit. It was a failed experiment that I have to assume was poorly managed and underfunded.
     This is the story of GM. In the 1950s and 60s, their market share of the US auto market was in the high 70%’s. Today it is a 17.6%. The descent was steady and consistent over the years. By any standard, this is an epic decline that can only be attributed to poor management. During this epic decline, the culture of GM was underscored with an unbelievable arrogance fueled by the illusion that they collectively believed it was still 1955.

Urban Meyer

saturdaydownsouth.com

     Urban Frank Meyer III just stepped down as head coach of The Ohio State University Football program. I am not what you would call a fan of Urban Meyer and certainly not a fan of Ohio State University Football. I am, after all, a Michigan fan… a Michigan man. But, I have to tip my hat to Coach Meyer. From the Ohio State perspective, he was awesome, he was a football god, and he never lost to Michigan in the seven years he coached there. Michigan fans really don’t like him because of this. The really don’t like borders on hate actually.
     Urban Meyer stepped down for health reasons. He has an arachnoid cyst in his brain. Some sources say it is inoperable and has increasingly caused him headaches and episodes where his memory is suspect. The headaches have been noticeable on the sideline as he has been caught on camera bending over and clutching his head. He even passed out at a game against Indiana this year. The rumors were prevalent on social media that he was going to retire because of this at the end of the season. So, his retirement was not a total surprise.
     A football coach the caliber of Urban Meyer is married to his job. It makes for lengthy work days both in and off-season. I imagine the stress levels equal the lofty pay that great coaches like Urban Meyer command. Furthermore, the elite coaches clearly know the game of football but, maybe more importantly, they are excellent managers of every aspect of the game, even the parts they delegate. The best coaches have developed and refined great systems. And, boy oh boy, did Urban Meyer have a great system. They never had a lull year. He recruited great talent, made them better, and devised game plans that made this teams unbelievably good. I recall a commentator, maybe a reporter, say that under Urban Meyer, “Ohio State doesn’t rebuild, they reload.” The one their only National Championship under Meyer in 2014, they did it with their playing their third string quarterback for the entire post season. I blogged about it in August of 2015. Braxton Miller went down in the pre-season, no problem, reload and move forward with J. T. Barrett. Barrett gets hurt in the Michigan game? No issues. Reload and win the National Championship with Cardale Jones. Unbelievable indeed. I was astonished and impressed but I shouldn’t have been. It was Urban Meyer’s system of recruiting, coaching up his players, and preparing them for games.
     Even during half-time and in press conferences after the game. He was infuriatingly matter of fact and irritatingly calm as he explained, and I paraphraise, “we recruit good player, teach them their role in our system, expect them to do their jobs, and they do.” I hated hearing that smug, confident, speech in countless variations, after Ohio State victories. His record was 82 – 9 in Columbus. Urban Meyer was clearly at the top of his game.
     There are rumors coming from every corner, except from Ohio State fans, that Urban Meyer is a cheat and often has the best team money can buy. As a Michigan fan, I would love to believe that just to justify our dismal record versus Ohio State. But, let’s face it. Elite college programs are money machines and the minor leagues for the NFL. The rah-rah, win one for the Gipper, spirit of student-athletes fails on the word student. The emotion is there for sure with both athletes and fans. But the vast majority of these gifted players are not really students. Many of these players probably would not have gotten into Michigan or Ohio State on their academics. So, really it is a degree of cheating, bending, or breaking the rules. I imagine the same thing is said about Alabama, Oklahoma, Clemson, and others. I am certain rivals would blow the whistle if there were evidence of such.
     I watched Urban Meyer on a TV interview a few years ago. He was talking about the stress of the job and how it kept him from quality time with his family. He seemed very open and heartfelt in his comments and desire to want to add some “normalcy” to his life. I believed him because he was so different, personable, and believable than in any other presser I have ever seen him. For all the success and incredible salaries, he seems like a guy truly struggling with work/life balance. I don’t believe he is that good an actor, so I believed him.
     Lastly, regarding Michigan and Ohio State. I often say, there is no rivalry without the rival. There is no rivalry, really, when the wins are lopsided as they have been in Ohio State’s favor this century. Nothing matches a great and grand rivalry such as this as when the record is closer to 50/50. We revere the Ten Year Hayes vs. Schembechler war for that very reason.
   Again,I tip my hat to Urban Meyer and wish him well.

Sydney Harris

     Growing up, we got the Detroit Free Press delivered to our home. It was the newspaper my Dad chose. When I was old enough, I would read the comics and check-out the baseball standings and individual stats every day during the season. Gradually over time I would read an article here or there, mostly sports and some news.
     I was not big on the opinion, editorials, and the syndicated columnists that populated those pages. I knew of Sydney Harris because I saw his articles, but I never read them. When I started at Ford Motor, my dear friend Robert K. Jones was commenting on a recent article by Sydney Harris on day. It sounded very interesting and I admitted that I knew of his column but had never actually read one. RK told me that I was missing out, I would benefit from reading Mr. Harris, and that he actually thought I would like him. So, I read the next column and never stopped. RK was right. I loved the way Sydney Harris wrote and what he thought even when I did not entirely agree with him.
     Sydney Harris was born in London in 1917. When he was five, his family moved to Chicago. Chicago became the city where he grew up, went to school, and worked. He was an alumnus of the University of Chicago. He worked for various Chicago newspapers as a drama critic and columnist ended up at the Chicago Sun-Times. The Detroit Free Press picked up both Sydney Harris and fellow Sun-Times writer Mike Royko. I became ardent fans of both though they couldn’t be more different in both subject and style.
     I liked his writings so much, I bought his book, The Best of Sydney J. Harris: Chosen from 30 year of writing by one of America’s most perceptive columnists. I bought the book

in 1976 or 1977. I loved it and would read random selections and several over and over again. I am not sure where that book went. I may have lent it to someone, I may have lost it, or inadvertently given it to a library book drive. I was sorry to know longer have it.
     I had not really given it any thought until I was discussing my favorite Sydney Harris column with a colleague, Professor Gianfranco Farrugia. It was a brilliant piece about how he tended to drift to opposite point of view when amongst people that were die-hard conservatives or liberals. I loved it because I am the same way. When I first read it, it vindicated my middle of the road, consider both sides, perspective. Up until then, I believed something was wrong with me for not having the resolute views so many others espoused.
      I thought Gian would enjoy reading the piece. As I didn’t have the book any longer, I thought I would be able to find his columns online. There were plenty of quotes on the usual quote sites but no columns. Sydney Harris seemed to have fallen between the cracks as the world went from analog to digital.
     So, I did the next best thing. I went on Amazon.com and bought another copy of The Best of Sydney J. Harris for the typical, very affordable, used book price. When it came, I was delighted to see that Mr. Harris had signed the book. How cool.
     I immediately looked for my favorite column and in short order found it and read it. I was amazed at how good, how profound, the writing was. I was worried that I had exaggerated the quality and impact of this piece overtime and was actually prepared to be a bit disappointed. I was not. It was still an incredibly strong piece. This might be projection, but I saw the influence of Mr. Harris’s style in my own writing. I could see, also, why I like the blogging I have been doing this year.
      Sydney Harris died in 1986 at the age of 69. He had heart issues and passed on from complications of a bypass surgery. I was sad. I would miss his writing. But I am glad to have his book again and am once again reading one of my favorite writers.
     I typed up that favorite column and include it here, so others may find it and benefit from it as I did.

Why There’s Danger in Extremism by Sydney Harris
     A friend of mine, whom I have always considered a calm and stable personality, told me recently that he is regarded in some quarters as a wild-eyed radical, and in other circles as a stony conservative – when actually he is neither.
     “It’s an irresistible urge I have when I get together with extremists,” he said. “I promptly swing over the other extreme, just because I am so irritated with their one-sided view.”
     I was delighted to learn that somebody else reacts that way, too. For years I have deplored my own tendency to do this. In most cases, it gives a false impression of my views – but when I am confronting an extremist, I become a passionate defender of the opposite view.
     With ice-cold reactionaries, I sound like a rabid Bolshevik; with professional liberals, I take on the tone of a fascist; with ardent culture-vultures, I pretend to read nothing but comic books and lovelorn columns; with pugnacious lowbrows, I refer haughtily to the French symbolist poets and the ontological existentialism of Kierkegaard.
     This, of course, is a senseless way to behave; it is over-reacting to a situation. But, in all fairness, there is something about extremism that breeds its own opposite.
     The complacency of the bourgeoisie makes me yearn for the Bohemian life; the sloppiness of the Bohemian brings out my primness; loud-mouthed patriots prompt me to take a stand for the French way of life; and moist-eyed lovers of all things European give me the urge to hop on a chair and being waving Old Glory.
     The danger of extremism is that it forces its opponents to adopt an equally extreme view – thus hurting its own cause more than it realizes.
     The Reign of Terror during the French Revolution was a natural historical result of the repressive monarchy; the Satanism of Stalin sprang out of the soil of Czarist cruelty. 

     Not a single way of living is exclusively right. Combination is all. Life is the art of mixing ingredients in tolerable proportions, so that all the varied needs of man are somehow satisfied, and no important hunger is neglected. This is what extremists forget, with their too-simple slogans for the good life.

A Thin Slice of Life

     Sometimes, like on a wintry Wednesday after Thanksgiving, a thin slice of life is what I feel like blogging about. Well maybe more a thin slice of avocado…
     I was grading in my office after my morning classes and before a 1 pm Faculty Senate Executive meeting. Around 12:30, I thought I would head over to the Johnson Center, our newest building on campus, where the meeting was supposed to take place. I would get there with time to grab a sandwich at the ARA run Einstein Bros. Bagels in the lobby. A specialty of the house, a turkey, bacon, and avocado sandwich was sounding pretty darn good.
     I got there between classes so there was no line. I placed my order, paid, filled my drink, and waited for my sandwich. The student worker announced, “Turkey, bacon, avocado.” I said right here, and she said, “We have no avocado.” I responded, “Well then it isn’t really a turkey, bacon, avocado is it?” All I got was a deadpan stare. So, I added, “How much rebate will you be giving me?” More deadpan. Then I said “You know for the missing avocado… for which I paid.” The deadpan pan continued but she did say, “Pardon me?” I responded, “I ordered and paid for a turkey, bacon, avocado, you gave me only a turkey and bacon sandwich. As I got less than what I ordered and paid for, I figured I should pay less.” My estimate was that the missing slice of avocado was about 15% of the value of the sandwich. "What else would you expect from a professor who teaches microeconomics.” All I got was more deadpan.
     The young lady’s boss, another student, asked if there were an issue. Mind you, I was doing all this in a lighthearted way with, as far as I could tell without a mirror, a twinkle in my eye. I told him, “It is at best a minor issue if at all.” I rephrased what I told his colleague including the suggestion that a rebate was probably in order. I just got more deadpan and he was not as good at it as she was. Needless to say, I did not get the rebate and honestly, I really wasn’t looking for one. The whole thing just kind of struck me as a bit absurd. Maybe the operations management professor in me that they should have told me, when I ordered the turkey, bacon, avocado sandwich, that they were out of avocados. Then, I could have made an informed choice and not been surprised at the end. Maybe, I was just in a playful mood and was simply disappointed they were deadpanning instead taking playing along.
     I sat down, unwrapped, and ate the sandwich. It was actually pretty tasty. Upon leaving for my meeting, I told them so and thanked them for making it. They both broke into wry deadpannish smiles. A semi-sweet dessert if you ask me.
     I wonder what today will bring? We shall see.

The Game

     Before: It is twenty minutes to kick-off of the 115th meeting of Michigan and Ohio State. For most of my life, it is simply been referred to as "the game."  It is, in my purely biased view, the greatest rivalry in sports, nay, the history of sport and possibly even warfare and human conflict. It is good versus evil. The outcome sets the tone for the next year for both players and fans on both sides.
     Michigan is favored in Columbus for the first time… in way too long a time. We have a great team. It is built on a rock-solid defense and a constantly improving offense. I love strong defensive teams. Stop them from scoring, stymie their game plan, frustrate them, and crush their will and ability to win.
     Both teams are 10-1. Michigan is undefeated in the Big Ten. Ohio State has their one loss in the conference. There is a lot of talk about how this Ohio State is lesser. The announcer just said that “they have walked a tight rope this season.” But, dang, they are still 10-1 and still are coached by Urban Meyer who, no matter what you think of him, is one excellent football coach.
     Throw the out all the pre-game babble and hype. None of that matters in this game. Throw all of that out the window. It is in the hands of the players who want it more than any of anybody else.
     My prognostication? I want to win, and this is the best team we have had in years. But I think Urban Meyer is the better coach and, sadly, I think the evil empire will prevail.
     During: I have some notion that I can actually write about this during the game. I am sure this won’t last. Ohio State just kicked-off to Michigan, held us to three and out, and we punted to them and they ran for a first down and then just passed for one. The adrenalin is flowing in this armchair coach… gotta stop writing to cheer and yell at the TV screen. [expletive deleted] they just scored. 7-0 OSU.  Wow, that is fast and it doesn't bode well.
     The last minute of the first half was crazy. Michigan scored a touchdown. Ohio State fumbled the kick-off and Michigan recovered on the 8 yard line. Michigan scored a touchdown on the next play.  We kicked-off to Ohio State with 41 seconds left in the half.  Ohio State drove down and kicked a field... we seem unable to stop them.
     Coming out of half-time, all Michigan fans were hoping that we could make the adjustments that would allow our defense to dominate.  I fear the Ohio State offense adjustments were better.  It is the middle of the 3rdQuarter and Michigan is down 34 – 19. It is not looking good. Ohio State looks better. Much better. If we score, they score faster. 

     48 – 25 at the 13:00 mark of the 4thQuarter. Our vaunted defense simply cannot stop Ohio State.
     There was a question on a Michigan page on Facebook asking people what the key would be for a Michigan victory today. In borderline smarmy way, I posted: Michigan has to score more points than we allow Ohio State to score. Duh…
     After: The game just ended. Ohio State trounced Michigan 62 – 39. They scored 62 points on us!  We scored 39 point on them which is pretty good.  But my smarmy prescription held true… for them. Our defense was overwhelmed by their offense. Urban Meyer is an unbelievable recruiter, coach, and motivator. We are still second to Ohio State in football. We have not beat an Urban Meyer coached Ohio State team.

• We had 401 yards of total offense. Ohio State had 567
• Michigan passed for 240 and rushed for 161 yards (4 yards per rush)
• Ohio State had 318 yards passing and ran for 249 (6 yards per rush)
• We turned it over twice versus one for them. I do believe all turnovers turned into scores.

     Our numbers were good but we lost because their offense overwhelmed our defense.  
     Michigan has a bowl game yet to play and then looking forward to next season. The team and the fanbase has to endure another year of not beating Ohio State. Sadly, I am almost getting used to it.
     This being said, we are 10 – 2. That is a great record and has been a great season. Kudos to the team and coaching staff and… keep getting better.

Old Car - New Car

The 2002 4Runner

   While I was born in Massachusetts, I am really a Detroit guy. Being a Detroit guy, I am also somewhat of an auto guy as well. As a boy, I could name every car on the streets of Detroit and they were all from the Big Three back in those days. Henry Ford’s Mansion, Fairlane, was on the campus of the University of Michgan – Dearborn. My first jobs were in the auto industry at Ford Motor where my maternal grandfather had labored. In the auto industry, almost everyone was driving newer cars. It was simply how it was done. We worked in the industry and we wanted to drive the latest models. Also, back in those days, the US models did not age well, nor did they have very good reputations for reliability.
     I always bought Fords as that is where I started. Even upon moving to Connecticut to work for Colgate-Palmolive in New York City, I still bought another Ford. Then as the market trended to SUVs, I ended up buying two Chevy S-10 Blazers. The reason I

The 2018 4Runner

switched to GM was simply because the Blazer was cheaper and had better incentives than the Ford Explorer or other models.
     At the end of my being a Ford customer, I was not happy with the reliability of their products and certainly not happy with the design, performance, and reliability of the Blazers from General Motors either. I expected more from Ford since they had revolutionized the way they designed vehicles with the very successful Taurus. But, in true Ford fashion, that method did not become the norm nor part of the culture.
     I know a bit about the heritage of both Ford and Toyota. I have studied and continue to study both companies on my own. In the 1980s, I was part of a team that evaluated Toyota versus Ford defects in the warranty period. Finally, I was part of a study mission that visited many companies in the Toyota family of companies.
     So, I thought I would give a Toyota a try. I bought my wife a Camry and then leased her an Avalon. They were awesome cars. They operated smoothly and performed admirably on the road with one exception… they were not good climbing our street, Cavalry Hill Rd, when it snowed. We needed either all or four-wheel drive. So, I leased a Lexus RX. It was a perfect vehicle. It was so perfect, we leased two more until I switched her over to Mercedes. We looked at Cadillacs and Buicks along the way but were not overly

impressed.
     I bought my first Blazer in 1995. It was red, and I actually was happy with it even though the braking was horrible (rim brakes on the rear wheels instead of disc). I gave it to my son when he went to college and I had to buy another car. I wanted a Toyota 4Runner. I priced them out and, dang, if Chevrolet was not provided zero financing and a low price making it $5,000 less than the 4Runner. So, I bought a navy-blue Blazer and was actually unhappy driving it off the lot. Allow me to emphasize this, I was actually unhappy driving a brand-new vehicle out of the dealership. That is not supposed to happened. It was prophetic.
     That Blazer stalled on the way home! It continued to stall every time I drove it. I took it back to the dealership and it took them a week to fix it. The vehicle was a rattle trap at 60K miles. We traded it in in 2009 when my daughter bought a Jeep.
     In 2002, my son drove the red 95 Blazer into the ground at about 80K, so I decided to give him the blue Blazer. I needed a new car. Without hesitation and without checking with GM, Ford, or any other make, I went to the Toyota dealership and negotiated to buy a beige (they called it Champagne) 4Runner Limited. I was delighted to drive this truck off of the lot.
     That delight never waned. In fact, it grew and grew. I remember hearing a Toyota executive address us in the study mission to Japan that, and I paraphrase, their goal was to have their customers happier with their vehicles with each year of ownership. I was really surprised to hear this as cars and truck wear out. They start losing value from the moment you buy them. Repairs simply become more expensive as components wear out. To achieve their vision, they would have to have excellent engineering and precision manufacturing… exactly what Toyota is known for. That increasing delight is exactly what I experienced in 16 years of ownership of my 4Runner. That is a great definition and example of quality that breeds customer loyalty.  I just bought a new 2018 4Runner and traded in my 2002 4Runner. Given the age and being 500 miles shy of 200,000 miles, they gave me a mere $1,500 for my old 4Runner. 

     I understood the economics of this, but that truck was worth so much more to me. In fact, I was sad to give it up. I have owned that car for a quarter of my life. It has had amazing reliability and will go another 50-100,000 miles for whoever buys it next. It was, flat-out, the best car I have ever owned. I was feeling down driving it the last time this past Wednesday, November 21st. I really felt I was severing a great friendship. It was just a car but one I appreciated more and more each year I had it.
     Thankfully, these feelings quickly dissipated when I drove away in the new 4Runner. I would love to see this one last 16 years. The new one certainly has some big shoes to fill.

Feeling Thankful

Sasoun David

     It is Thanksgiving 2018. For the second year in a row, we just stayed home, Judy and I, and had a rare down day. Between the football, not overeating, getting some chores done around the house, and avoiding the hype and lure that is Black Friday, I actually had the time and inclination to reflect and be thankful. That is the essence of the holiday after all which is sometimes too much in the background.
     I am very thankful for my entire family. I love and value one and all. They make me smile and bring me joy. The older I am, the more important that is. This includes most certainly my wife, our children, our mothers, our aunts and uncles, our siblings and their spouses, our nieces and nephews, our vast extended richness of cousins and their families. I am thankful for the memories of our fathers, our grandparents, my sister, and aunts and uncles who have passed. I am thankful the richness of our friends both those we see often and those we should be more in touch with. I am thankful, also, for my encore career at North Park University. It is the capstone, for sure, to my career.
     Did I forget our grandchildren? No, not at all. Aris, Vaughn, Lara, Sasoun, and a fifth due in February are truly blessings in our lives.
     I am especially thankful for my youngest grandchild, Sasoun David Kapamajian. Sasoun was born late last year. We were, of course, delighted. A short week after his birth, we got some very scary news. Sasoun was diagnosed with Severe Combined Immunodeficiency (SCID). We were not sure what that was but were devasted when we heard it was “the Bubble Boy disease” or syndrome. Our little guy, basically, did not have an immune system. He could not get a cold… period. It was a gut punch to the entire family. We were in shock. Our daughter Armene and Sasoun went into a sterile, isolation, room at UCLA and we had no clue what was to happen and what the next steps were. Sasoun’s father, Michael, was wonderful working at his ophthalmology practice, coordinating Sasoun’s medical care, spending time with Vaughn, and explaining everything that was happening and planned to all of us. It was a tough December last year.
     Everyone we knew prayed for Sasoun. He truly has some of the best doctors in the world, specializing in SCID, caring for him. He has awesome parents who steered a steady course through these uncharted waters. Sasoun had his California grandparents Anna and Manuk who watched his brother Vaughn while he and his mother were in isolation for three months… yes, they were in a hospital room for three months.
     Medicine has advanced amazingly since the era of the Bubble Boy. We learned that early diagnosis was the key to treatment and healing. This is why SCID is screened for it a birth these days. The next step is a bone marrow transplant to trigger the growth of T-cells, the foundation of the immune system that was missing. Thankfully, Sasoun’s brother Vaughn was a perfect match. Secondly, Michael and Armene had had Vaughn’s umbilical cord saved and frozen. The umbilical cord was rich in stem cells was the source of everything the physicians needed for the bone marrow transplant, thus sparing Vaughn from having to undergo any medical procedure. On January 10th, Sasoun had the transplant and the transplant team celebrated this as his second birthday… which we certainly celebrate ourselves!
     Sasoun and Armene remained in the isolation room at UCLA until mid-March. They were there for three months! The positive side of this was that Sasoun had the full attention of his mother for three months. Three-year-old Vaughn was a trooper too. He missed his mother and face-timed with her a few times a day. He understood and weathered this interruption in his routine wonderfully. Because Sasoun’s numbers were heading in the right direction, mother and son were released to home isolation. The could only go out for doctor’s visits
     All through this, everyone kept Sasoun in their prayers. Everyone asked about him, his status, and how everyone was doing. It was a true blessing and, I am certain, had an impact. I am ever so thankful to everyone who kept him in their prayers.
     At this writing, they are still in-home isolation. As Sasoun’s numbers progress positively, the definition of home isolation is a wee bit looser than it was in March. And Sasoun? He is a happy, engaging, and fun little guy. He is unaware of his condition and all that he went through. That is as it should be and definitely another blessing for which we are thankful. We face-time with him regularly. He knows us and responds to our songs and little games.
      As Sasoun has turned one, we are ever so thankful for how this is all working out. He is not fully out of the woods, and it not clear to me to what extent he will ever be, but he is in a much better place than he was about a year ago. We are all much happier and optimistic, cautiously optimistic, and oh so very thankful.

The End of the Great War: 100 Years

www.squamishanglicanchurch.ca

     One hundred years ago on this day, World War I ended. The Great War ended at the 11th day of the 11th month of 1918. It was dubbed the war to end all wars. It was called the Great War because of the vast numbers of soldiers involved from so many countries.
     It was also called the Great War because the industrial age had brought mechanization and science to warfare to make this brutal undertaking more brutal and miserable as we were able to more efficiently kill each other. The concept of a second Great War was inconceivable. It seemed for a moment that the leaders of the world actually believed we had to find a way to live peacefully. They even thought it was possible and took steps toward that by creating the League of Nations to resolve disputes between countries without resorting to warfare which the rightfully assumed would even get more brutal.
     The war began on July 28, 1914 and lasted more than four years until November 11, 1918. In that time 8.5 million soldiers were killed and another 22.2 million were wounded. 10 million civilian were killed. As I read this last statistic, I wondered if the Armenian’s who died in the Genocide are in that count.
     Chemical weapons, mustard gas, were used for the first time as was the first battle tanks. It was the first-time airplanes were used. The trench warfare in France made for the miserable conditions we are reminded of in film and books such as All Quiet on the Western Front.     The US Congress declared November 11, Armistice Day, to be a day of National Observance in 1926. In 1938, they made it a national holiday. In 1954, Armistice Day was renamed Veteran’s Day. I am not a Veteran. There is some regret for not having served, but at this point in my life, it is what it is. I know I was not put in harm’s way but again I never experience the comradery and esprit du corps that being in harm’s way can forge in a group of young men. I honor and revere anyone who served in war or peace.
     I believe in honoring Veteran’s and having a Veteran’s Day. But, I have a longing for Armistice Day, a day to commemorate the end of the first modern world war, and, maybe more importantly, a day to commemorate what people, for a brief time in history, thought and believed would be or should have been the end of all war.
     Kurt Vonnegut put it best in his novel Breakfast of Champions:

So this book is a sidewalk strewn with junk, trash which I throw over my shoulders as I travel in time back to November eleventh, nineteen hundred and twenty-two. 

I will come to a time in my backwards trip when November eleventh, accidentally my birthday, was a sacred day called Armistice Day. When I was a boy, and when Dwayne Hoover was a boy, all the people of all the nations which had fought in the First World War were silent during the eleventh minute of the eleventh hour of Armistice Day, which was the eleventh day of the eleventh month. 

It was during that minute in nineteen hundred and eighteen, that millions upon millions of human beings stopped butchering one another. I have talked to old men who were on battlefields during that minute. They have told me in one way or another that the sudden silence was the Voice of God. So we still have among us some men who can remember when God spoke clearly to mankind. 

Armistice Day has become Veterans’ Day. Armistice Day was sacred. Veterans’ Day is not.

     We no longer have “men who can remember when God spoke clearly to mankind.” We did not listen. Will we ever…

Cousy, Russell, the Celtics, and What Really Matters in the End

Amazon.com

     My father died on June 3rd. This Saturday, November 3rd, it will it will be five months.
     There are predictable ways in which his passing is top of mind. First and foremost are family gatherings where his presence is missed. There are the Armenian events of which the Armenian Youth Federation Olympics held every year over the Labor Day Weekend is the prime example. Certainly, as we are in the height of the college football season, I think of the commentary he would have been making in every game I watch. While he was a great track coach, I think he might have also been a great football coach. I pass by family photos every day in which he is well represented. I see these photos and his passing is again front and center or shall we say a bit more front and center. There are no surprises, just the gentle easing of grief as time passes by. He, my sisters, and grandparents who have all passed are always on my mind.
     Earlier this week, I had a different kind of reminder, an unexpected, maybe even surprising reminder of his passing. I was listening to National Public Radio during my morning commute.  They were featuring a recently published book, The Last Pass: Cousy, Russell, the Celtics, and What Matters in the End by Gary M. Pomerantz. The book, per the title, is about these two stalwarts of the great Celtic teams of the 50’s and 60’s that won 11 NBA titles. But, it had a twist. The focus of the book was how racism did and didn’t define the relationship of Cousy and Russell.  It is written from Cousy's perspective as Russell just doesn't speak to the press these days.  From NPR, “They became teammates in 1957, just after Martin Luther King Jr.'s Montgomery bus boycott, and would play together through turbulent times of the civil rights movement — in Boston, a city roiled by bigotry.” It is basically a Cousy confessional ot how he could have been a better and more supportive friend to his teammate.
     Well… I thought to buy the book, but not for me. I thought quite naturally, “I will get it for dad, he will enjoy reading it.” I am not sure the Bob Cousy or Ted Williams had a bigger fan than my Boston born and bred father. Needless to say, the moment I thought that pleasant thought, I had the surprising and stark realization that those days were gone. It caught me off guard. I would not be buying anymore gifts for my dad. I was reminded in an unexpected way that he was gone.
     I am not sure, given his condition these past few years, if dad would have even been able to read the book. As it is about Cousy and Russell, he might have no matter how long it took. Also, I am not sure how he would have reacted to the racism theme of the book but then again it was about his beloved Celtics, so it is hard to tell. Bottom line, I would have bought him the book.
     I may, however, read the book on his behalf and no doubt hear his ongoing commentary in my head while I do.

A Little Disappointed?

     I am a little disappointed. I know I shouldn’t be, but I am.
     I am a little disappointed that I did not win the huge Mega Millions record jackpot of $1.6 Billion.
     I know. I know. I know I had no chance of winning. I am a statistician and studied mathematical probability. I know that the probability of winning was 1 out of approximately 303 million. Actually, mine were 3 out of approximately 303 million since I bought 3 tickets.
     So, if I knew that the chances were that infinitesimal, why was I a little disappointed.
     I do not play the lottery on any regular basis. I only play it, as this week, when the jackpot is so high that it is all over the news and a topic in general conversation everywhere. I bought 3 tickets a week earlier when the jackpot was a measly $1 Billion. As no one won, the pot skyrocketed to the record level. So, I bought 3 more.
     Knowledge of probability or not, the sum was so huge I could not help doing what countless others were doing… contemplating what I might do with a windfall of that much money. What would I do with that much money? What would I do for family and friends? What I first do for myself? When I asked this last question the word Maserati popped into my mind. Maybe I would buy a small fleet of Maseratis for folks I adore. I would endow a chair, for sure, at North Park University. There were lots of other ideas, some charitable and others more for myself and my family. There was, after all, a chance, small as it was, that I could win all or a share of that jackpot. It was impossible not to dream a little… and thus impossible to not be a little disappointed.
     Tickets were $2 each. The jackpot was $1.6 B and there were approximately 303 million possible tickets. Why not just buy all possibilities? It would cost $606 Million and I could double the money. If the pot had to be split there was a chance I might break even or maybe even take a loss. The real problem with this scheme was even more fundamental. First, how would I get the $606 Million to buy the tickets. If I had that kind of money, I wouldn’t need to lottery winnings to begin with. Secondly, it would take forever to print out approximately 303 million tickets even if there were five entries per sheet.
     Aside from the probabilities, another reason I knew I wouldn’t win was because I lived in a suburb or a major city. The winners all seem to be from some backwater place that you never hear about except for when they announce where winning lottery tickets were sold. I was joking with friends that I had no chance of winning since I didn’t live in someplace like Fenton, Arkansas, Darcy, Kentucky, or Humboldt, Oklahoma (all names I made up). Case in point, the winning ticket for this record jackpot was sold in Simpsonville, South Carolina.
     At the end of the day, sure, I was a little disappointed. But, when I reflected on the kinds of things I might do with the money, I only thought about getting myself that Maserati paying off some bills, and then… I thought about charities and family. It dawned on me that I was already one fortunate person and life was indeed pretty good. So, while I was amongst the throng of folks a bit disappointed that we did not win the $1.6 Billion, I feel like I won something bigger in the long run.

Answering Machines and Victrolas

brucesallan.com

      I was in a staff meeting for the School of Business and Nonprofit Management where I teach. During the agenda item on what faculty could do to assist in recruiting students, we reviewed a program where faculty call recently accepted students to congratulate them and encourage them to commit to North Park University. It is a great program in concept. I noted, “In not recognizing the number of the incoming call, no one answers the phone and I end up leaving a message on their answering machine.” Everyone laughed. I asked, with a dumb look on my face, “What??” Someone filled me in saying, “Answering machine? It’s called Voice Mail this century.” 
     Well, yes. Technically, they were right in laughing at me. I was certainly referring to a most outdated technology. Laughter aside, everyone knew what I meant. 

whatscookingamerica.net

      There is a precedent however: my father. This, occasional, trait of mine for using outdated terminology seems to be following in his footsteps. For as long as I can remember, he would occasionally refer to the refrigerator as an icebox. “Where are the apples?” He would respond, “they’re in the icebox.” Or he might ask, “Go to the icebox and get…” whatever. He used the term early enough in my life and often enough that I assumed that icebox and refrigerator were synonymous terms. In my view, to a certain degree, they are. It is where items you want to keep cold are stored. It matters not what method is used to cool the stuff in the box. I used to use the terms interchangeably, until, I was old enough to realize what an icebox actually was and how antiquated the term actually was. 
      The same logic applies to the answering machine and voice mail example. When I call someone, they don’t answer, and I hear a recording of the person’s voice telling me that they are not there and to leave a message, I have no idea if I that recording is from an antique answering machine or voice mail provided by their cell or home service provider. Actually, if I know I am calling someone’s cell phone, duh, I am fairly certain it isn’t an answering machine when I hear their recorded voice.

Uhuru Furniture

     My dad had another one of these that I found even more amusing. He used to call any music playback device, that required a needle to function, a Victrola. Of course, most everyone else called them record players or phonographs. For some reason, I never took the name Victrola to by synonymous with record player. I never really knew the origin of that term. I did figure it out about the same age I found out how an icebox differed from a refrigerator. Victrolas were actually the brand name of phonographs made by The Victor Talking Machine Company from 1901 – 1929 (www.victor-victrola.com). 
     The brand is still alive today, www.victrola.com, as one can purchase a variety of retro looking record players... er... I mean...Victrolas: 

Victrola was born in 1906 in Camden, NJ when first introduced to the American public by the Victor Talking Machine Company. Full of entrepreneurial ideas and known for its use of quality materials, Victor (later becoming RCA) was the largest and most successful turntable manufacturer of its time.

More than 110 years later, the legendary Victrola trademark has been revived in the US and is now owned by Innovative Technology – The Victrola Brand will once again symbolize the same high-quality, nostalgic turntables of the past for this century’s music listeners of all ages.

    I would expound more on all of this but have to go and check my answering machine as the light is flashing. 

Come on Facebook!

thatsnonsense.com

     There is some of fishy goings on these past few days on Facebook. Friends of all kinds are sending me messages telling me that they have gotten a duplicate friend request from me. The implication is that someone has cloned my profile and trying to get access to all my friends. I guess the cloners do this for… well it is not exactly clear. Do they use the cloned me to disseminate false news? Will they eventually make a plea for money to my friends on a fake GoFundMe like site? Maybe, it is a social media rival trying to destabilize Facebook, forcing users to leave Facebook for… and I can’t even think of where I or others would go. Or, are they simply trying to clone everyone and create a parallel Facebook of all cloned profiles? At least this last, low probability at best, option has cool philosophical implications. I would love to be able to check on what my cloned self is up to and how that cloned self is interacting with my clone friends on a parallel Facebook.
     Given that the first message I got from a trusted friend seemed plausible, I took it seriously. I searched to see there was indeed a parallel me on Facebook. I could not find a clone. That was good. So, I googled what to do if I thought my Facebook was either hacked or cloned. Not surprisingly, I was advised to change my password. I did. It was also suggested that I “secure” my account by evoking a “secure my account” dialogue box on Facebook. I did that even though it did not give me any sense that what I was asked to do could possible lead to a more secure account. OK, I idid what I was supposed to do was done.
     The following day, I got more such IMs suggesting that my account was cloned. After getting a few, I noticed that the messages were all the same or a too close in wording to be coincidental. Here is the most common message:

Hi....I actually got another friend request from you yesterday...which I ignored so you may want to check your account. Hold your finger on the message until the forward button appears...then hit forward and all the people you want to forward too....I had to do the people individually. Good Luck! PLEASE DO NOT ACCEPT A NEW ONE FROM ME AT THIS TIME.

     What else should I do? I copied the above message and googled the whole thing. Yesterday, there were a few news items talking about this being a hoax. The report said that the was not an uptick in people’s accounts being cloned. The reports urged people not to forward these messages as the IMs suggested. Today, googling the same message there are many more news items saying the same thing. Oddly, there was nothing from my favorite reputable news sources: The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, Newsy, or NPR.
     What surprises me is that Facebook has not posted a notice about this. They are obviously working behind the scenes trying to figure this out. I look at my IM icon and it shows 9 new messages and a few seconds later it shows 2 or 0. Clearly, there is some filtering going one. I would think being forthcoming and giving folks status updates would be better than letting people get frustrated about this, forward this hoaxy message, and think about just not using or even quitting Facebook. But then, what do I know? I’m not a Facebook executive.
     In the meantime, please stop sending me these IMs.