Hey, I am 44.4% Successful!

     The internet and social media is rife with lists of all kinds. There are lists ranking this and that from the Best Places to Live to the Worst Places to go to School. From the number of them, as well as the number of them that overlap or focus on the same thing, one would assume we are obsessed with these lists. Probably, we only look at the ones that apply to us, looking for validation that we live in the right or wrong place, went to the right or wrong university, or chose the right or wrong profession. If one list doesn't give the validation sought, perhaps the next one on the very same subject will. 

     A recent list extolled the 9 Books that All Successful People Read.  The erroneous and majority causal assumption is “Wowsers, if I read these books, I will be successful.”

1. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
2. How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie
3. I know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
4. Purple Cow by Seth Godin
5. The Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger
6. The 4 Hour Week by Tim Ferriss
7. The Innovators Dilemma by Clayton Chirstiansen
8. Think and Grow Rich by Napoleon Hill
9. The Monk and the Riddle by Randy Komisar

     Reading the list, as with a fair number of these lists, reveals no more than the title, 9 Books That All Successful People Read, is more compelling and promising than the content of the list. Any notion, hint, or promise of causation evaporated. It was unclear if there was any correlation.  It cannot be possible that ALL successful people have read these books.
     OK. The Carnegie, Godin, and Hill book make sense. They are about getting along with people, marketing and innovation, and gaining wealth. These all contribute to being successful. A glaring omission might be Machiavelli’s The Prince. There is nothing by Drucker or Deming either.
     The Ferriss book was a recent best seller as was the Godin book. Having read both, Purple Cow resonated more and providing some very good advice about the need these days to differentiate ones brands and ones product and services. Seth Godin is revered by many probably because his writing is slow clear. He may be the heir of Peter Drucker which again begs the question if one can really be successful without having at least read a Peter Drucker article? Tim Ferriss is no Seth Godin. His book is not for everyone but he must be pleased as punch that so many people have bought it. He is message is “I have a way cooler life than you will ever have. Via being smarter than you will ever be and using smoke and mirrors while bandying about my giant ego, I have created the illusion that I only work 4 hours a week. Read this book and gain a few well worn tidbits on time management and prioritization."
     How about the The Great Gatsby and The Cather in the Rye? Surely, they are standard classics of American literature and round us out as human beings. As literature goes, Salinger’s short stories are much better than The Catcher in the Rye. Why not Moby Dick, Huckleberry Finn, The Grapes of Wrath, or For Whom the Bell Tolls? They are all classics of American literature and probably read by the same class of people. Heck, there could be a case made that every successful, powerful, rich, and influential American who learned to read from the 1930s to the 1970s has read and mastered Fun with Dick and Jane. There was just a piece in a recent Wall Street Journal in which Dashiell Hammett’s The Maltese Falcon is chosen for the WSJ Book Club. As many successful people read a the Wall Street Journal, The Maltese Falcon may make the next list.
     Even more fundamental, how is successful defined? How did the authors assemble this list? Was there a poll involved? Did a committee just select these books? The AmericasBusinessGuide.com article does shed some light on this.

• Here are 9 books that all successful, powerful (and, well, rich) people read and that are sure to set you on your path.
• Our staff writers have expertise in a wide variety of areas. Each article that they write is thoroughly researched.

     Now we know, successful includes the powerful and rich. We also know that everything was “thoroughly researched.” The inclusion of Maya Angelou’s book, another classic of American Literature, is on the list. Did they include this to bring a woman and person of color to this list that was so thoroughly researched. Why not The Color Purple, Go tell it on the Mountain, or Native Son?
     Who are these folks at America’s Business Guide? The About Us feature of their website site states:

America’s Business Guide was created by business experts with over 70 combined years of entrepreneurial and business experience. America’s Business Guide’s mission is to promote key strategic news and advice that can help you grow your own business or move up the ranks in someone else’s business. You will find America’s Business Guide as your go to source for insight into the exciting business world.

     Wow. 70 years of combined business experience. That is not all that impressive as I have 40 years of experience myself.
     In the end, what is the end result of all this ranting, raving, and whining about this list:
     I have read 4 of the 9 books. That makes me 44.4% successful. That seems about right.  My son has only read one of the books and I definitely consider him more successful than I am. 

     Of the books, I have not read I probably should read all of them beginner with The Innovator's Dilemma.  Therefore the list has been of some value to me. I got a bloggy bit out of it, I have validated that I am 44.4% successful, and I have added five more books to my already too long reading list. 

     Maybe, I should just re-read Fun with Dick and Jane…

February 2015: 11th Anniversary Letter

     It has been 11 years of this e-letter and almost 13 for writing every day. As I have written almost every year, it has been a good thing. It has even been a good transformational process. It forces clearer and more organized thinking. Surprisingly, my proofreading skills are still lacking and perhaps lacking big-time.
     The Habit of Writing: It has, indeed, been 11 years of this e-letter and almost 13 for writing every day. Well that is until late last year that is.
     Honestly, the daily writing has become a bit of a struggle since I started my full time faculty position. This seems odd because, I theoretically have more free time and thus should have no problem writing.
     Yes, I have free time. The classroom time is set and fixed. It amounts to about 12 hours of in class time. On a 40 hour work week, that leaves 28 hours of free time. On a 60 hour work week, which is more the norm these days, that leaves 48 hours of free time. Anyone that has ever taught understands the fallacy of this arithmetic. The reality is that each hour of class time, requires or generates 2 hours outside the class. That bumps the 12 hour teaching load up to 36 hours. The four hours get used for administrative meetings and such. This is why they call teaching 12 credit hours a full time load.
     OK then. I am working full time. Big whoopee. I should still be able to make and find time to write. Shouldn’t I? People make time for what is important to them. That much is a universal almost by definition. If it is really important to you, you will do it. If you are not doing it and complaining about not having time to do it, then it must not be something you really want. That is the logic.
     Case in point, while working at Colgate-Palmolive and Newell Rubbermaid, I managed to write each and every day. I would have to say that those corporate jobs were more demanding than my current faculty position. How was I able to do that?
     First, let’s consider the following. There was a Zig Ziglar quote on Facebook this week. It is right to the point:

Motivation gets you going
and habit gets you there.

     Motivation by itself is not enough. Back in my corporate days, I developed a writing habit. I did it first thing in the morning. I would get up early and do my daily writing with my first cup of coffee. It worked. It worked if my office was in Manhattan. I would take the early train, head to a Starbucks by the office, and write. It worked in Oak Brook. I would get to the office early having gotten a coffee en route and write.
      In the days of unemployment, consulting, and adjunct teaching, I still had a good writing habit. It shifted a bit though. Writing became the last task of the day. I still did but instead of at the crack of dawn, it was more like at the stroke of 10 pm.
     With the return to one full time job instead of three or four part-time ones, my life is more predictably scheduled and thus I should be better able to establish a habit. This has not been the case. My first thing in the morning over that first cup of coffee activity has become reading the Wall Street Journal (read more about this in the next section). It is and indispensible part of the job. As a professor in a business school, it is important to be on top of what is happening in the world of business and be able to relate what is being taught in the classroom to what is happening in the real world. For example, we were covering the role of government while the US was deciding on the Net Neutrality issue. Perfect. The point here is that reading the journal has taken over the crack of dawn time slot.
     Well that still leaves the end of day time slot. With the new job has come a resumption of getting up early. Thus, by 10 pm, I am simply running out of gas. There is a reason the best writers in the world tend to write first thing in the day. They simply have more energy and clarity of thought.
     On top of this, I decided to tackle serious subjects in my December and January letters which by the way are still in draft form in cloud storage. In December, I had this idea of tackling looking at both or all sides in the Ferguson, MO what is going on with race relations in this country. It is a great topic but it is also a deep and controversial subject. It is controversial because most folks have a point of view, sincerely believe that point of view is unequivocally, axiomatically, correct and anyone who disagrees is a moron. This is not an easy thing to write about from the middle. You are wrong to both sides and are basically just Shemp Howard saying “Gentlemen, gentlemen” only to by punched simultaneously on both sides of the face (I did try to find a photo of this on internet).
     Basically, I need to retrench, retool, and establish a new habit. There will be more to follow on this I am sure in subsequent blogs and letters on objective setting and time and task management. (Yes, I know, I should just read and follow my previous bloggy bits on these topics.)
     Good writing: This is the section of my anniversary letter where I traditionally comment on good writing i.e. not mine.
     Having taken the job at North Park University’s School of Business, I have gotten into reading the Wall Street Journal every day. We get at a copy at the office. I started reading that copy but I was not on campus every day. Others also wanted to read the paper, so it was not always available.
     In this age of newspapers being something much less than they were because of the internet, the Journal did it the right way. Because they are the official newspaper of American business, they were able to charge for their internet content. It is just a business expense for their reader base. Basically, I would have just read it online but for this.
     I decided to explore getting a subscription. There were two basic subscriptions: digital only and both print and digital. While I was looking at the pricing and balking at the rates, I notice they had exclusive offers for students and educators. This appealed to me. For $200, I got two years of home delivery and digital access. That comes to $1.92 a week or approximately 32¢ an issue. I signed up.
     The writing in the Journal is generally good. In most of the articles, it is clear and informative. Where it shines, is in the feature articles especially when there are guest notables or professors. Recently, I have read one of each.
     In the February 5, 2015 edition of the paper, Paula Marantz Cohen wrote a lovely Opinion piece titled “Queen for a day no more.” “Ms. Cohen is an English professor and dean of the Pennoni Honors College at Drexel University in Philadelphia.” She wrote about a beautiful piece about Harold’s Bridal Shop in New Haven, CT that recently closed its doors after Harold’s sister in-law and long time soul of the place sales lady, Georgianna DiGioia, who passed away last year at the age of 98.

Harold Pellegrino had started the shop when he returned from World War II. His assumption was that there were two things people would do when they got back from the war: buy a house and get married. He opted for the bridal trade over real estate. Georgianna loved her work because it allowed her to contribute to the most important moments in the lives of her neighbors. Like her name DiGioia, her work in the shop gave her and others joy.

     Professor Marantz painted a lovely scene of a single proprietor business in this big box, online, chain store era we live in.
     Another wonderful piece was in the February 26, 2015 edition by the humorist Dave Barry: “The Greatest (Party) Generation.” Dave Barry is a great humorist. I used to love to read his column every Sunday in the Parade magazine that came with the Detroit Free Press. I may have even bought a book on fatherhood by him back in the 1980s.
     This article in the Wall Street Journal is “Excerpted from Mr. Barry’s latest book, ‘Live Right and Find Happiness (Although Beer Is Much Faster),’ to be published on March 3 by G.P. Putnam’s Sons.” It is also a nostalgic piece about his parents, my parents, generation. He expounds on the kinds of house or cocktail parties they used to throw with greater frequency and verve than the ensuing generations. Here is an excerpt:

And it wasn’t just cigarettes and alcohol they didn’t worry about. They also didn’t worry that there might be harmful chemicals in the water that they drank right from the tap. They didn’t worry that if they threw their trash into the wrong receptacle, they were killing baby polar bears and hastening the extinction of the human race. They didn’t worry about consuming trans fats, gluten, fructose, and all the other food components now considered so dangerous they could be used to rob a bank (“Give him the money! He’s got gluten!”).

     I do believe I am trying to write like both of these wonderful authors.

     How do I write? In previous years, I have commented that I have handwritten my daily writing. This was true for the first several years I was writing this letter. As the theme for the monthly letter emerged somewhere in the last third of the month, I would edit and type up the daily writing into the letter.
      In 2009, I put all the original writing into a blog, This Side of Fifty, and things seemed to change. I had experimented with typing my daily writing before then, but the frequency began to increase at this point. Shortly thereafter, probably in 2010, I procured an iPad2 with a Zagg keyboard. Soon, I was typing everything and handwriting became passé. These days, I type 100% of my daily writing into Apple’s Pages word processor or MS Word. In either case they are saved in either the iCloud or Box.com so that I can access them from any device connected to the internet.
      While all of this is very cool and kinda high tech, I do miss the handwriting. There is something to be said for the act of handwriting. There is an expressiveness to it that cannot be matched on the keyboard. Yet, as nice as that might be, handwritten work must then be typed turn it into a blog post or e-letter. They time savings of writing on a keyboard surpasses the pleasure gained by handwriting.
     Handwriting, and I am talking about cursive handwriting versus printing, may become a lost art. It is no longer universally taught. I did not no this. I became aware of it when students came up to me and said they could not read what I had handwritten on their exams. I assumed it was because my handwriting was too sloppy but that was not the case. They said they could not read cursive handwriting. I asked how that could be and then learned that they had never learned cursive writing. I was kind of surprised more than shocked. Having learned this, I then noticed that on essay parts of exams more and more students were printing rather than handwriting their responses. I realized that handwriting is not necessary or relevant any more. One does not need both printing and handwriting for the amount of manual writing we do these days. As printing is traditionally taught first, cursive handwriting has become redundant and unnecessary.
      According to an August 12, 2013 USA Today article, Is cursive's day in classroom done?, “at least 41 states do not require public schools to teach cursive reading or writing.” This is primarily due to cursive writing not being in the new Common Core requirements. Is this a big deal? Eh… maybe yes, probably not.
      A little research showed that cursive writing was formalized in the US in the mid-1800s by one Pratt Rogers Spencer. It became the popular style of penmanship taught in the US until 1925. The Ford Motor Company and Coca-Cola logos are written in what is known as the Spencerian Script.
      Spencerian Script was quickly replaced by the script developed by one Austin Palmer in the late 1800s. He published a book in 1894, Palmer’s Guide to Business Writing. It quickly became the standard which was taught in all schools until, apparently, recently.
     I was taught the Palmer Script in third grade I believe. I was so excited on the first day when we learned to write lower case i’s and j’s. I came home very excited and practiced them more at home. It did not take long, like the next day, when I realized that my handwriting was going to be less than perfect. 

      When I was handwriting my daily pages, I probably had the best handwriting of my life. I still believe in the power and personal touch of a thoughtfully handwritten missive.       Thanks once again to all my friends and family who have graciously supported this 11year old project through both readership and encouragement. I greatly appreciate it.

Friday the 13th - February 2015

      Friday the 13th of February. It was a day of lovely highs sandwiched between the parts of life we are not so fond of experiencing.  It reminded me of another such day thirteen years ago.  

     I knew it was Friday the 13th but I had not even given the superstitious interpretation of the day a thought. It was to be a busy day leading into a busy weekend there was no time for superstition. It was to be a full day.

• 8 - 9:30 am: Emcee a networking breakfast at the Greater Waukegan Develop Council (GWDC)
  My friend Dave Roberts and Marian Hoskins were to speak about a sailing event, Scoop the Lake, that started a few years ago with the expressed mission to bring the boating community and City of Waukegan closer together.
• 9:30 - 12:30: Meeting of the Axelson Center for Nonprofit Management Excellent Emerging Organization Judging committee
• 1 - 3:30: Teach Operations Management and Microeconomics courses
• 3:30 - 4:30 Office Hours
• 6 - 11: Perform at the All Saints Armenian Churuch Poon Pari Genton (Mardi Gras) Party.

     This was to be a prelude to a weekend with my son, daughter in-law,and 7 month old grandson visiting from Washington DC. Amid all this other activity this is what I was looking forward to. 

     The day started our kind of scary. Just before they were to serve breakfast at the GWDC event. Dave Roberts had some kind of seizure. It was quite scary.  Minutes before we were chatting and jaoking with each other. He was unconscious and it looked like a heart attack. Immediately 911 was called and Linda Keith, another attendee with some EMT skills, jumped in and took over the immediate care. By the time the real EMT arrived Dave was conscious and talking. They put him on a gurney and took him to the hospital. On his way out the door, he was joking that he could not leave as he had to give his presentation. We were all feeling good about his prospects and continued on with our meeting.  Marian did a wonderful job.

       After the presentation, I hit the road for North Park University.  The Axelson meeting and my classes went well and as expected.  When my last class ended at 3:30, I went to my office and organized a few things for the next day.  About 4:30, when I was sure the traffic had intensified, I left to get to All Saints Armenian Church in Glenview for the Poon Pari Gentan.

      It turned out to be a wonderful event. In recent years, our church has a adopted a very tradition for Poon Pari Gentan. The various church groups each cooked old time Armenian meals. There were kebabs, meatballs in yogurt soup, lamb stew, and fish and pilaf. One was better than the other. It costs $5 at the door and each of the dinners cost $5.  Many had more than one dinner.

     As they had old time Armenian food, the committee asked us to play some old time Armenian music. Jim Hardy was in charge of the band and assembled a unique group. He played clarinet, I was on oud and vocals, and Shahan Alexanian was our keyboardist. Jim had a great idea to ask 18 year old Alek Surenian to play the dumbeg. It was a brilliant idea on two counts. First, we have heard Alek play a bit. He shows a lot of promise. He loves the music and was way cool that we offered him his first official gig. It felt great to support and nurture the next generation of musicians. Secondly, Alek is well known and well liked in the church community. People would come out just to see his debut. It did not hurt that his mother is an Alexanian, first cousin to Shahan, and that, seemingly, every other person in the community is either an Alexanian or related to one.  The event was well attended by family and fans of Alek as we were.

     It was to Alek’s debut. It was his night and his gig. We were delighted to be part of it. 

     It ended up being a lovely evening. As the foods were from all different regions of historical Armenia, we played a variety of folk songs from the same regions. It was not a real dancing crowd but they stayed and listened. It was really really nice. I left the church feeling pretty good about things.  I left the church feeling on top of the world. The band was great, the food even better, and everyone in attendance enjoyed the evening. I like that feeling. It is a mixture of happiness, contentment, feeling quite Armenian, and something else, that je ne sais quoi, there might not even be a word for. 

     By the time I got home it was about 12:30 am. I want to check on Dave’s status which was to be updated on the GWDC Facebook page. I learned that Dave had a brain aneurysm and was air evacuated down to the University of Chicago where he had surgery. (As of this writing, two weeks after the fact, he discharged from the hospital.  On Saturday the 28th, his wife posted photos of the two of them out for dinner.  What great news.) 

            Since I had my phone out, I decided to check my email before turning in for the night.  When I was checking my North Park mail, there was an email from the Dean of the School of Business and Nonprofit Management with the ominous title:  very sad news.  I hate to open emails with such subjects... but I did.  I learned that, Crendalyn McMath Fitzgerald, my colleague and fellow professor in the School of Business and Nonprofit Management had suddenly passed away earlier that day.  Click here for the North Park announcement of Cren's passing.

     I just sat there.  I read the email again.  I was in disbelief.  I was stunned.  The shock began to slowly subside only to be replaced with grief.

     This all reminded me of another day:  Sunday, September 29, 2002.  I will never forget that day.  I was living in Connecticut at the time and had played at a church in New Jersey that day.  It was a spectacular, perfect, kind of early fall day.  The sky clear and blue.  The weather was perfect.  The food was delicious and the people were all in a great mood.  We had a great time playing the music we loved.  We felt like we were on fire and as group played above our individual capabilities.  

      On the way home, crossing the Tappan Zee Bridge, I recall thinking "This was a pretty perfect day."  I am not sure what made me think that except that
it was that same "mixture of happiness, contentment, feeling quite Armenian, and something else, that je ne sais quoi, there might not even be a word for."  But it was not only this feeling that will link these two days.  

     When I got home that lovely September Sunday in 2002, I sat down and was basking in what I thought was a perfect day.  Then the phone rang.  It was my mother.  She said they were at the hospital.  I assumed it was my grandmother who was  97 at the time.  Nope.  It was my sister Laura Ani.  She had been diagnosed with a brain aneurysm.  They were to do a procedure the next morning.  

     The procedure did not work.  Laura passed away in the early hours of October 1, 2002.

      When one is at the North Pole, any step front, back, left, or right is south.  When you think a day or a portion of it is perfect, the next moment or next day has to be something not so perfect.  Sunday September 29, 2002 was quite perfect.  The step south?  It was surreal and a deep dive into grief and loss.  The opposites were extreme.  The contrast taught me, out of some kind of superstition, to never really feel any day or moment as perfect.  Because of this experience, I tempered my feelings of the very nice night on Friday, February 13.  I even thought NOT to use the word perfect on my basking riding home.  I get home to news of an aneurysm and a passing of someone I knew.  It was not the same and yet there were similarities that might be called eerie.  

      There is probably nothing to change or manage.  The highs come with the lows.  There is no way to predict when.  There is no way to predict how high or how low.  Sometimes they come at extremes on the same day.  Thankfully, those are rare occurrences.

Radio Shack Bankruptcy

The Radio Shack location near
North Park University

     On February 5th, Radio Shack filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection.  The company and brand have been struggling for years for a variety of reasons. 
     I am sorry to see them go. I am part of the reason they are going under. I used to be a customer.  I was never a great customer but I was a more frequent customer than I have been this century.  I would go there to by cords or wires for playing music.  Back in the day, music stores did not carry everything.  As I played the oud, the pickups we used to use did not always have the standard guitar quarter inch jack system.  Thus, there was a need to by adapters and odd cords.  Where did you go for such things?  Radio Shack of course.  Even our amplifies had small fuses in them.  Radio Shack carried those too.  They pretty much had anything I needed in terms of wiring up any instruments to amps and any kind of "patch" cord I might need for my various vintages of home stereos.  
     How often did I go?  A few times a year.  No matter where I was, there was always a Radio Shack near by.  Often this came in handy as we would be setting up for a gig and we would need to seek out a Radio Shack to buy a particular doohickey or thingamabob.  This century I went to a Radio Shack three times.  I made an emergency run to buy a patch cord to play an iPod through a sound system at my cousin's daughters wedding.  I bought a remote headphone set.  The last time I went was to buy a USB microphone to better record youtube lecture videos. 
     These days, I rarely go.  The cords have all been standardized and almost everything I need can be found at music stores.  Or... they can be bought online.  For most odd things, Amazon has it.  Oh that USB microphone?  Radio Shack didn't have it, so I bought it online.
     So, I am sorry to see them go.  But, this is nostalgia.  People feel a nostalgic loss when a store that was important to them goes out of business.  People in Detroit still lament the loss of J. L. Hudson's especially the downtown store.  Folks in Chicago do the same with Marshall Fields.  In New York, it is B. Altman's.  There will be many that will miss Radio Shack.  There is one thing in common about all these examples.  When we talk about them and how we are sorry to see them go, we always relate our experiences in the past tense.  I used to go.  I remember when, as a kid, we used to go there and...
     Stores close for many reasons.  It could be bad management.  It could be changes in the market place that renders a place or product useless.  In all cases, something happened to cause people to stop frequenting the business.  It is not necessarily abrupt but the erosion is relentless and deadly.  When it finally comes, we feel bad and move on.  I imagine I will write about Sears in the same way one day.  Actually, I cannot believe they are still operating.
     Of the many reasons Radio Shack going away, we have to first consider their name:  Radio Shack.  Both words are anachronistic i.e. words, as Merriam-Wester.com says, that are "chronologically out of place".  Radio?  Shack?  Both words alone speak of things that don't fit in the America of today.
     We only have radios in our cars these days.  I cannot remember the last I even thought about listening to the radio anyplace but in the car.  If I wanted to listen to a radio in my house, I would have to stream the station via the internet because I am not sure there is even a radio in the house.  Sure, satellite radio is really popular.  Most who use satellite radios have them in their cars, a few buy devices that they can carry around with them but I doubt they bought them at Radio Shack.
     Radio Shack started to support ham radio enthusiasts.  Please would build or buy these ham systems and communicate with others around the world in Morse Code or voice.  Yes, Morse Code.  Ham radio was the Facebook and chatroom of yore.  Radio Shack helped the ham operators keep their sets running because they were tube based and tubes wore out all the time.  They were there to assist ham operators upgrade their systems from antennas to Morse code keys. Today, we have cell phones that allow us to text and Skype people anywhere in the world.  There is no need for radios.  They are a thing of the past too.
     How about the word shack?  What are we sharecroppers?  Who wants to go to any kind of shack.  A radio shack is probably what the Army called them in WWII.  It was good then, but not evoking quality and high tech electronics these days.  OK, the word shack still works for restaurants.  Think about going to a rib shack.  There was a well publicized IPO this year of a fast food burger restaurant called Shake Shack.  
      An Op Ed piece in the February 8, 2015 Wall Street Journal, Radio Shack Suffered as Time Evaporated:  

In 1963, the year his company bought a nine-store chain then known by the two-word name Radio Shack, Charles D. Tandy explained to the New York Times why it made perfect sense for a retailer of do-it-yourself leather handicrafts to buy an electronics distributor. 

“Leisure time is opening markets to us,” he told the Times. “The shorter workweek, human curiosity, idle hands—all offer opportunities in this business. Everyone’s spare time is our challenge.”

     Maybe the demise of leisure time is partly to blame here.  This will have to be the subject of another blog. 

 

Parking Dibs

     Every city has its customs and quirks. These might include cuisine, music, or pastimes. Chicago is certainly no different. We have Chicago deep dish pizza, Chicago Blues, and Chicago 16 inch softball. One of the more unique customs in this city happens at this time of year after significant snow falls. It is called Parking Dibs and it is a phenomena that happens in the city proper, mostly on side streets.
     With the proliferation of autos, with most households having one or two, parking is not always easy to find on city streets. Certainly other cities have this issue; certainly New York and Boston in my experience. When is snows it gets worse. The city of Chicago is slow or plain old remiss when it comes to plowing the side streets. With cars parked on both sides, the one way streets get narrower with the snow. The big city plows cannot even get down these streets with all the cars parked there. So, the roads remain icy, snowy, slushy, and, hence, not easy to navigate. If a smaller private plow comes down the street, there is nowhere to put the snow except to bury the parked cars even more. It can be quite a mess.
     So, Joe Average Citizen comes out of his house the morning after a big snow and, whether his work is closed or open, he has to dig out his car. Depending on the amount of snow, this can be a sizable job to clean off the car and remove the snow all around it so it can maneuver out of the tight parallel parking. It can take twenty, thirty, or up to forty-five minutes to clear the spot. When the job is done there is a great sense of satisfaction and ownership for the parking spot just cleared. Yes, ownership. Many people think that, even though it is an open and public parking space, they have some ownership and feel some entitlement to that spot. Think of it as the parking spot equivalent of squatting or homesteading wrapped together.
     Yet, when one drives away from “their” just cleared parking spot, no one else knows or cares who cleared it let alone know that the person who cleared it feels like they own that spot. A passing neighbor or visitor is just happy to find a parking spot and even happier that is it clean; so they would, naturally, take it.
     The Chicago solution for this is called Parking Dibs. The guy that cleaned and cleared the spot puts something there to hold the spot while they are gone. What do they put there? Any household thing that is big enough to put their to indicate the squatters right to the spot. People use lawn chairs from resin to aluminum, old ironing boards, small stools, garbage cans, small tables, and almost anything that is handy. Some people even have invested in parking cones for this purpose. So, after a big snow like today, when you drive around the city you see lots of Dibs Parking with a wide array of household junk holding the spot.
      Of course, it is completely illegal to do this. But, the police don’t bother trying to enforce things. Maybe they think that it is a reasonably self-managed and benign thing. But more so, I am guessing that they don’t bother enforcing the law because they do not know who to ticket. Without a revenue stream involved, the city lets this one go.
      For the most part, there is an honor system involved which makes this Parking Dibs system work. People generally do not disturb the makeshift barriers. They probably just shrug it off and move one. When parking is really tight and the driver is really frustrated, he or she may move the barriers while quoting how they believe the law reads and take the parking spot. Most of the time the homestead owner of the spot curses the new squatter and moves on. But, there are cases of keyed cars, broken windows, and certainly shouting matches.
      This morning there was a great spot right in front of the house on N. Spaulding that is the offices for the School of Business and Nonprofit Management. Could I be that lucky? Nope. In the photo you can see the resin chairs reserving the spot for whoever cleaned the place. Across the street you can see a couple cars that need to be dug out.
      What did I do? It was a primo parking space, but I shrugged it off and moved to a school parking lot… and decided to blog about it.

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Here are some other articles with other photos on the subject:

1. First The Snow, Now The Crazy Battle Over ‘Dibs’.  This link features a great photo of someone using a stop sign, post and all, that, I am guessing a plow dislodged, to hold their parking spot.  Thanks to Carol Koloian for this one.
2. Dibs on parking spaces after snow is the Chicago Way. This Chicago Tribune article features a photo of someone using an ironing board to hoard a spot.

For the Love of a Good Winter Blast

      We spent the last  twelve days in Southern California welcoming our Grandson Vaughn Alexan to our family.  When we left Chicago, our house was in full Christmas bloom with trees, lights both inside and out, wreaths, candles, and assorted what they call table top accessories.  All that was missing was the snow and cold.  When we got to Pasadena it was in the 50s.  It was warmer than it was in Chicago for sure but apparently cold for Californians.  Some of them were dressed in winter coats, scarves, and gloves.  It was kind of funny.  
     The past few days, it had warmed up there.  It was quite pleasant in the 70s and even low 80s.  I even wore shorts one day.  It was nice.  At the same time, there were news and facebook posts, OK mainly facebook reports, of a snowy cold blast hitting Chicago.  It was so cold that the schools were all closed Thursday and Friday of last week.  People from Illinois, Michigan, and Massachusetts were posting and texting about how cold it was and wondering why they were living where they were living.  Folks in California were telling me how lucky I was to be there and not home. 
     Actually, they are all wrong about my being glad to be away from the cold and snow.  I like the seasons.  Fall is by far my favorite.  The shocker is that I like winter too.  The winter that I like is exactly the kind I was missing:  a polar vortex, cold bast, frigid snowy, single digit temperatures, and wind chills in the negative teens. I missed that at Christmas as it was a bit too warm and there was zero snow.  It just didn't feel right.  When I express my love for the cold and snow, people, especially in California, question this saying "But it is so cold."  Yes it is and that is exactly the point.  It is good to bundle up in wools or corduroys, big fat sweaters, fleece liners, parkas, boots, gloves, and stocking hats.  It is good to walk in the cold.  It is good to pop the car in the 4WD (yes my 4Runner is that old) and drive in the new fallen snow.  I like winter.  I have even written about it a few times in this blog:

1. This first part of a 2009 piece It All Began with an Air Bath.
2. My January 2005 letter, Winter Survival ,about my Boy Scout days.

I guess it is just a matter of getting used to it. 
     When we landed at O'Hare, it felt great to step outside, breath in some cold air, and blow out a vapory exhale.  When we got home, I got out of the car, and having the wrong shoes on, almost fell on my ego.  From the photo I took out the front door this evening upon getting home, it is clear that this is exactly the kind of winter weather I am talking about.  
     Looking forward to bundling up and heading out in the morning for the first day of classes in the Spring term.

18 Minutes? 4 Seconds? Just Do It!

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     I saw an email earlier today. It was an announcement for a webinar from ExecuNet that had a phenomenal promise: 4 Seconds — All the Time You Need to Stop Counterproductive Habits and Get the Results You Want with Peter Bregman. It is to take place on Wednesday, January 07, 2015, 1:00-2:00 PM ET or as I am in Los Angeles, 10 - 11 am PT. Wow... 4 seconds. What could a curmudgeonly, prone to woe is me, fellow like me possible do in 4 seconds to "stop counterproductive habits and get the results" I want?

     How could I not sign up for this? 'Tis the season for resolution making after all.

     All I can think of is that Peter Bregman will be revealing some very special magic words, incantations that were revealed to him through some revelation, or perhaps he translated some hieroglyphic no one else has been able to decipher.  Maybe I would learn to babble in tongues for a mere 4 seconds and voila be transformed!

     4 seconds! Sounds incredible.

     Of course, I googled Peter Bregman. I should have already known about him. He is well educated with BA from Princeton and an MBA from Columbia. He runs an eponymic consulting firm, Bregman Partners, which specializes in advising CEOs. The webinar title is the same as his new book being released in February of 2015.  4 Seconds is his not his first book on time and time management. The first was published in 2012: 18 Minutes: Find Your Focus, Master Distraction, and Get the Right Things Done.

     Now mind you, I have read neither book and lord knows I could use every tip, trick, and lifestyle mindset perception, you name it, to help me find my focus, stop becoming the master of being distracted, and most certainly improve my ability to get the right things done, done well, under budget, and ahead of schedule. Given this long winded caveat, I am not afraid to jump into what the esteemed Mr. Bregman has written dedicated 560 pages to... without the benefit of having read anymore than the title of his two books.

Sidebar:  People buy self-help books with increasing frequency.   There is a clear need for helping people lead more healthy, productive, and loving lives.  Oddly, the percentage of folks who actually help themselves is probably constant.  These books have really excellent engaging and attractive titles.  We read these titles and taglines and think that forking over $30 for a book that will enable such great things is a mere pittance.  Too often the results are less than we crave.  Very often the messages in all of these books are the same (did someone say isomorphic?) and are simply repackaged and marketing in a different way.  

     Why 18 minutes and not, say, 20 or even 15 which is a natural increment our smart phone calendars easily deal with? If a non-standard number of minutes were to be chosen, I would have opted for 17 as I believe there is magic in them there prime numbers. OK, let's go with 18 minutes. Taking 18 minutes at the end of one day or the beginning of the next to establish ones focus and priorities for the next day is time well spent.  Every productivity self-help book will offer some version of this as a good thing to make habitual. If one is really busy with complicated tasks in a job laden with random events that require one's attention, maybe another 18 minutes can be allocated for regrouping at midday or mid-afternoon.
     Maybe 18 minutes can also be the amount of time allocated for distractions. Call your mom. Do a crossword. Check Facebook (though be forewarned, 18 minutes is like 1 second in the land of Facebook). Do whatever you want whenever, just don't used more than 18 minutes. In a ten hour work day, that is like 1.8 minutes per hour! Live it up. Enjoy.
     Let's look at the math here. The 18 minutes in the title of his first book is 1,080 seconds. The second book, and I remind you that I have read neither, is, kinda sorta, offering the same thing but in only 4 seconds. Wowsers. Talk about progress! Why read the first book when the second gets you in the same place in 96.73% less time! The Nobel folks need to consider this accomplishment.
     What can one do in 4 seconds? Here is a list of encouragements and admonishments that probably each take a second or less to say.

• Just Do It! (the Nike classic) 
• Snap out of it! (the Cher classic from the movie Moonstruck)
• Hunker down!
• Stop complaining!
• I think I can. (the childhood classic from The Little Engine that Could)
• Keep calm and carry on.
• No pain, no gain.
• You can do it! (from the movie Waterboy)
• Put down that twinkie!
• Don't stop believin'... (having Journeyed myself from the fictitious South Detroit)

     Add any number of others you can think of. Create your own list.  Have fun with it.
     Given your list, slap four them together as you see fit depending on your own needs. Record them and play them back on your smart phone, pad, or computer whenever you need that a 4 second jolt of focus and motivation. Record several. Record one in our own voice. Have your mother or wife record one. Have your surliest boss do a set... if you can talk him or her into it. Pay James Earl Jones to record a Darth Vader version. 
     Heck, if you can get the right phrase, you may need only 1 second.
     Ah, if it were only that easy.

Vaughn Alexan

     What a great time. What an auspicious time. We are delighted to welcome our second grandchild and second grandson to this world:  Vaughn Alexan Kapamajian  Weighing in at 8 pounds and 11 ounces and 21 inches long, Vaughn Alexan was the biggest baby born on the Gavoor side of the clan that anyone can recall.  His numbers are middle of the road for the Kapamajians. 

     Judy and I are fortunate enough to be able to be in California to enjoy both this special time of the year and a special time for our family. We celebrated New Years with our Los Angeles family, we went to the Tournament of Roses Parade, and I finally made it to the Rose Bowl. Then, after the holiday festivities were winding down, Vaughn Alexan commanded our focus.

     Vaughn Alexan's parents, Armene and Michael are delighted, excited, and exhausted first parents. There is no need to get into the details of delivery suffice it to say that mother and son are both doing very well. There is a collective expression of joy and welcoming warmth the Vaughn Alexan and his parents. In the age of social media and smart phones, everyone that wanted or needed to be was kept in the text loop through the night and wee hours of the morning. It made it all more exciting with the village all involved in Vaughn Alexan's arrival. 

     Vaughn Alexan's birthday is amid a very busy festive season. First he shares his birthday with his great-aunt Nancy Gavoor. Nancy could not be more delighted. I am sure their bond just a bit more special because of it. A normally festive time has just gotten even more festive for our family. Beginning with the Winter Solstice, December 21, we celebrate the birthday of our daughter in-law Anoush. Of course, on the 24th and 25th of December we celebrate Christmas followed shortly by Michael's brother Andrew's birthday on the 28th. The 31st is Armene's birthday and New Year's Eve. Of course, January 1 is New Year's Day, the Tournament of Roses Parade for the Pasadena part of the family and all the bowl games. With one day off, we move right to Nancy and Vaughn's birthday followed on January 4 with Michael's mother Ana's birthday. The finish off this season of festivities, we have Armenian Christmas Eve and Christmas on January 5th and 6th. What a wonderful season this has evolved into for us.

     When a chid is born, the possibilities, hopes, and aspirations of the parents, grandparents, and family are limitless. All things considered, we wish a long, happy, and healthy life to our new bundles of joy. These three factors are perhaps the best definition of success there is. Beyond this, given the birth of our first two grandchildren, both grandsons, in a seven month span, we wish that the two cousins, Aris Gabriel and Vaughn Alexan, are as close to each other as they are in age. Cousins are a blessing too often underplayed and undervalued.

     Welcome Vaughn Alexan!