Advice for Sliding Through Life

One of the best little books I've ever read is called, "Never Confuse a Memo with Reality," (subtitle: And Other Business lessons Too Simple Not to Know"), by Richard A. Moran, published in 1993 by Harpers Collins. It's a tidy collection of words of wisdom for surviving and perhaps even thriving as an employee in the corporate world. By the time I discovered the book about 12 years ago I had already confirmed the wisdom of nearly every bit of advice it offers. Some is obvious, like, "You'll never regret having spent too much time with your kids," or "Never wear a tie with a stain on it." Other bits express things we may know inherently, but rarely say out loud, like, "The size of your office is not as important as the size of your paycheck," and the advice in the title: "Never confuse a memo with reality...most memos from the top are political fantasy."

I consult this little book regularly to get re-grounded and stay sane (relatively) when corporate baloney and artificial urgency are swirling around me. But on a day to day basis, in and out of work, I reflect often on advice I've gotten from the friends and mentors who have helped to shape my attitudes and approach to work and life. I thought it might be helpful to share some of that from time to time.

Barry, for whom I worked for 20 years and who is one of my closest friends, shared this: "You wouldn't worry what people think about you if you realized how seldom they do."

Barry also gave me another bit of advice that I try desperately to follow. Talking about the relationship with one's employer, he said, "Take their money. Eat their food. Drink their booze and shut up." It's that last bit I sometimes have trouble with.

My late friend Ralph said and did so many things that I don't think he intended as advice or examples, but that I think about frequently when I'm assessing my reaction to things.

Once, I was sitting at a nearly empty bar with Ralph and some of his friends when an angry drunk came up to me and said, "Hey! You're sitting in my seat." And he meant it, too. It seemed especially absurd when I looked down the bar at all the empty seats. I turned to Ralph for support (and maybe protection) and he said, "Tony, I believe you're sitting in this gentleman's seat." In other words, "It's not worth it. Pick your arguments." Also, "You can't win an argument with a drunk."

Ralph also observed something that hasn't really changed the way I behave or react but just shed light on why I and other men do what we do sometimes. He said simply, "Men do what women want." There will be those who take issue with that observation, but in general I think humans are hardwired in a way that makes Ralph's observation true most of the time. It's another way of saying, "When momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy."

I'll try to remember to share other bits of advice I've gotten (good and bad) from time to time. I'll close with one more from the book -- one that I've shared with a lot of people who are just starting to work in the corporate world and often have to make tough choices.

"Life is Choices: always choose to do what you will remember ten years from now."

Decisions, decisions....

I'm sitting here waiting for the cable guy to come and trying to decide how to use this time. At some point this morning, I have to run out and buy a new headlight bulb for the car, but I'm stuck here until the cable guy comes, so in the meantime here are my choices: I can go out and finish cleaning out the hot tub in preparation for filling it; I can cut up chicken for chicken piccata; I can vacuum the carpets (always a favorite of mine but it freaks out the dog) or I can start cutting the grass (although the cable guy is supposed to call an hour before he shows up and the mower might prevent me from hearing the phone ring.) One other alternative is to sit here and indulge in this flight of boring ideas. I think that's what I'll do. Now, that's what I call being decisive!

Last Day of a Two Week Vacation

After a week at the beach and a week at home taking care of various chores, it's almost time to go back to work. It was a wonderful time away from work. The week at the beach with family and friends was magnificent and the week at home was fun and productive. We lost cable TV on Tuesday evening (the cable guy comes tomorrow morning) but I didn't let that get in the way of a good time. So, to put a capper on my Friday evening, I conducted a mustard tasting competition among French's, Guilden's and Grey Poupon. I spread a bit of each on slices of Boar's Head Baloney, American Cheese and bits of Parmesian cheese. Then I ate them. My conclusion: We have way too much mustard in this house. But if I had to choose just one, I'd have to give the edge to the Grey Poupon.

Maybe it really is time to go back to work.

Cars I've owned since 1972*


1. 1966 Volkswagen Beetle, green

2. 1973 Volkswagen Beetle, light blue

3. 1975 Datsun B210 (Roni’s car when we were married)

4. 1971 Dodge Van, red

5. 1981 Plymouth Reliant Wagon, dark blue

6. 1981 Subaru Wagon, blue

7. 1975 Subaru Sedan, white (Julie’s car)

8. 1986 Plymouth Voyager Minivan, silver

9. 1975 Volkswagen Beetle, tan (first car bought in VA)

10. 1989 Eagle Summit, blue

11. 1992 Plymouth Grand Voyager, green

12. 1991 Mazda Miata, blue

13. 1995 Volkswagen Jetta, green

14. 1979 MG Midget, red

15. 1989 Subaru XT, silver

16. 1998 Saturn SL, white

17. 2000 Mazda MPV, green

18. 2001 Saturn SL1, green

19. 1993 Infiniti J30, green

20. 1993 Saturn SL2, silver (Ralph’s car)

21. 2000 Volkswagen Cabrio, green

22. 2003 Chrysler PT Cruiser, blue

23. 1999 Isuzu Hombre pickup truck, green (Alex’s truck)

24. 2003 Kawasaki Vulcan 500 Ltd., (motorcycle)

25. 2007 Mazda5

26. 2006 Ford Ranger (Alex’s truck)

27. 2006 Hyundai Accent (David’s car)

28. 2010 Hyundai Sonata

29. 1989 Jeep Comanche pickup truck

30. 2012 Fiat 500 **

31. 2013 Honda Fit

32.  2007 Dodge Grand Caravan**

33. 2016 VW Golf**


* In roughly the order in which they were purchased
** Currently Owned

"We card everyone"

As sad as it was to see Ukrops disappear from the Richmond scene, we did look forward to being able to buy wine and beer at at the former Ukrops locations when they reopened under the Martin's banner. In fact, on my first trip to Martin's I picked up a couple of bottles of vermouth (one dry and one sweet) and was stunned upon checking out when the cashier asked for my ID. Not only have I checked out with this cashier before during the 20 years I've been shopping there, (to their credit Martin's retained the Ukrops staff) but I am a gray-haired, bearded middle age guy who can't even pass for 50, never mind 21. I complied, of course, but I did comment that it seemed silly to me and even asked those behind me in line if they agreed. They did.

Having been a denizen of the corporate world for 34 years, I understand the risk-averse mindset that prompts a decision to card everyone. The thinking goes like this: "We don't want to get in trouble for selling alcohol to minors but we also don't ever want to offend anyone, or worse, be accused of singling out any person or group of people, so let's just card everyone." In today's hypersensitive, thin-skinned and litigious society there's some basis for concern. However, it just seems ridiculous to remove all human judgement from the process.

Asking where to draw the line when carding people is a valid question. The answer is somewhere younger than people who are obviously older than 50. Martin's policy of carding everyone is another reminder that when the Ukrops family sold, it meant more than a sign change on our local supermarket. I fear that it also means that common sense and a neighborhood feel have been supplanted by corporate policy.

Two Things I Love About Baseball

The Yankees won the World Series and that feels very right to me. But now that the season is over, I find myself feeling a bit lost in the evenings without a baseball game to watch. That got me thinking about baseball and its appeal. I've been a Yankees fan as long as I can remember, but the first time where I specifically thought, "I love this game," was at the World Series in 1977 or 1978. It was against the Dodgers, in any event. (I went with my pal Jeff and he'll tell me which year it was.) We sat down the third base line in seats that today would require a second mortgage. At one point, Graig Nettles made an astounding dive to his right to snag a hopper in the hole, got up and threw the runner out. It was an amazing, graceful play thatmade me appreciate how beautiful the game could be.

But it's not just the beauty and the athleticism of the game that I like. Thinking about it more recently, I came up with two things that I truly admire about baseball.

One -- Nothing has changed. Well, maybe not nothing; there are new rules and new equipment, juiced balls, superstars with astronomical salaries and quite a few other things that have changed. But fundamentally the game the Derick, A-Rod, Jorge and Mo play is the same game that Mickey and Joe D played, that Babe and Lou played, Ty Cobb and Tris Speaker played and that Honus Wagner and Cy Young played. So, when you read an account of an early game, you can follow the play by play and imagine the excitement of the crowd, even if the game was 100 years ago. As Sherlock Holmes said to Watson in His Last Bow, "You are a fixed point in a changing age." There are fewer and fewer of those.

Two -- It changed everything. Well, maybe not everything, but it has had a very positive impact in at least one respect. Wearing my Yankees cap, I was riding back to my parents' house in Manhattan Beach on the Q Train after my first visit to the New Yankee Stadium. The Yankees were losing badly to the Mariners so I left at the top of the 8th to beat the crowd. On the train, a young African American man with whom I -- a middle aged suburban white guy -- probably have very little in common, struck up a conversation about the game. He asked what had happened, what the score was when we left. He expressed the same disgust I felt at the outcome. We talked about the game, the team and the new stadium for a bit until he got off the train. Not a big deal, but I'm hard pressed to imagine another topic in which two people so different could have come to such a meeting of the minds. Baseball today transcends race. I'm sure there is still racism in baseball, as there is in other places. But the fact is that on the baseball field, players are players, heroes are heroes, a great performance is a great performance no matter the color of a player's skin. And that, in turn, binds us as fans. We take that for granted today, but I also started to think how much we owe Jackie Robinson for enduring what he endured to break that barrier.

Anyway, there's plenty of time to contemplate baseball now. As Joe Girardi said at City Hall the other day, pitchers and catchers report in 96 days. Something to look forward to.

What Money Can Do to a Man

In my professional capacity (harumph...harumph...) I have worked closely for many years with people of substantial means. Some absolutely rolling in the stuff. And I recall the day clearly when I confirmed with absolute certainty that money cannot buy happiness. It was only about 15 years ago when it hit me that one particular executive for whom the woild was his erster was perpetually miserable. Here was a guy who ran out one day to buy a brand new Jeep on a whim because after all, in his words, "money is not a factor." Yet, he had a permanent scowl and hardly ever a positive word to say. At the same time, it occurred to me that even at the outset of my working days, when I was bringing home a lot less, I was no less happy than I was then, or now for that matter. When it comes to happiness, to quote Mr. Bacigallupe of the Abbott and Costello show, "Money's-a-gotta nothing for do for dis ting." Obviously there are going to be some very sad times in everybody's life and none of us can control all of the circumstances we encounter and sometimes things will turn sour and so will we. And I'm not saying that having some dough to pay for a full belly and a roof over your head isn't something to aspire to. But when it comes to attitudes, I believe we can control our default setting. Whether we set the dial on "OK" or "This sucks" is up to each of us -- whether we have a lot of money or not so much. And it just seems to me that money tends to push the dial over to the "sucks" setting. I know, that sucks, but whatayagonna do.

And another thing! Recently, I've been witness to some individuals receiving some very large sums of money to do good things they, arguably, should be doing anyway. We're talking multiples of what most people make in a year. And the reaction isn't to jump up and down with glee and gratitude; it's to complain bitterly that it's taking too long to get the money. And this from people who are already pretty well off. (Prehtty...prehtty well off.) And I've seen this coming not just from jerks, but from people who I thought were pretty nice. Is that what money does? Is it really the root of all evil? They talk about the curse of the lottery winners. Maybe there's something to that. Hey, not for nuthin', but you gotta wonder.