Episodes
Thursday Jul 08, 2010
Lost or Stolen
Thursday Jul 08, 2010
Thursday Jul 08, 2010
I looked on the back of my debit card. It says, “If lost or stolen, please call 1-888-555-1212”. So let me think about that for a moment. If I lose my debit card, I’m supposed to have the number somewhere else so I can call and report it is missing? And if someone finds it, what are the chances they will call in and report they found it? Or would the normal everyday passerby be tempted to see if it worked?
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve used the card and entered the wrong pin, and then was told by the clerk to just run it as a credit. This means anyone else could do the same thing if they find my card. It doesn’t make me feel secure.
Some people feel like the world is a more dishonest place. I’ve had things stolen from me before, but usually it’s my fault. I remember how excited I was to get a class ring when I was in high school. It was really nice, and they are way too expensive, but what do we know when we are 17 years old? We just know we can’t live without it, so we sacrifice and get it or just have mom and dad buy it.
I was working one summer cutting pine poles, and stopped at a service station on the way to the stand of timber. I took off my ring to wash my hands in the bathroom and left my ring on the sink. I realized later in the day what I had done, and after a long day getting the chain saw to work, dodging falling trees, trimming limbs and hauling logs to the truck, I went back to the gas station later that night and surprise! no one had turned in a lost ring. Who would want a high school ring from another school? No one I went to high school with would have been even close to where I was. It wouldn’t be their school colors. But, nonetheless, the ring was gone and someone had a new trinket.
It wasn’t the last ring I had stolen, although technically, I lost my class ring before someone kept it. My wedding ring was stolen one night when I was in the middle of a performance. For those of you who know who Howard Ruff is, you may be surprised to know he like to sing opera. In fact, I got to help him put on a show called H.M.S. Pinafore by Gilbert and Sullivan. One of the scariest moments during rehearsals was when Howard had a kidney stone attack. I drove him home in his car and my wife followed me to his house. I knew he was in a lot of pain, but I didn’t know how much until I passed my first kidney stone about five years ago.
So when the performances were finally started, we were all singly mightily on stage while someone else was going through our stuff backstage. They waited until a scene where everyone was on stage. Howard lost a couple of hundred dollars, and they stole my wedding ring.
That’s right. A plain silver wedding ring. Well, really white gold, but I still can’t understand why anyone would want someone else’s old ring. I guess someone was supporting a drug habit and needed some cash. So think about this. Whoever stole my ring has to go to a pawn shop and claim they don’t want their wedding ring anymore. Or the person who usually buys their stolen goods knows better than to ask where the ring came from. Either way, it seems like way more work than getting a regular job.
But this may be where most of us actually are dishonest without really thinking about it. On our job, our employers trust us to give an honest day’s labor for our wage, and if we don’t like the pay we can always go get another job. But as a society, we tend to think our employers owe us more somehow, and taking time off work to do our personal errands seems acceptable. Employers complain about employee theft, but is it really a big deal? The National Retail Security Survey estimated retailers lost $15.9 billion in 2008, and they expected 2009 to see an increase in employee theft. You want abundance?
Listen to what super salesman and marketing guru Joseph Sugarman says about honesty. “Each time you are honest and conduct yourself with honesty, a success force will drive you toward greater success. Each time you lie, even with a little white lie, there are strong forces pushing you toward failure.” Honesty can make us more successful. Dealing with the consequences of being dishonest take a much bigger toll. It may make you fail.
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Click on the player to hear an audio version of this piece Lost or StolenThursday Jul 08, 2010
Abundance Opinion June 27
Thursday Jul 08, 2010
Thursday Jul 08, 2010
This is the complete episode of Abundance from June 27th.
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Click on the player to hear an audio version of this piece OpinionThursday Jul 08, 2010
The Plodder's Mile -- Chapter Fifteen
Thursday Jul 08, 2010
Thursday Jul 08, 2010
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Paula joined the stakeout, over Smitty’s objections. She had offered to bring some food and cook, and Greg had been persuasive. He even reasoned having an imbedded reporter might make both of them look more efficient. They would have nothing to hide. Smitty was used to the two-man stake out, and didn’t want someone around “arranging doilies”. They were all watching the house across the street, waiting patiently for someone who might never come, but who at that moment was wondering how to get out of a barn without getting shot.
Paula decided to get some food ready. Greg was impressed that she had even offered to bring food, since both of the men were used to bringing in fast food during surveillance. It looked like they were going to get a home-cooked meal.
“This won’t take me long,” she insisted, “and since it’s not dark we can get it cooked without lights. If we wait to eat, then I’ll have to cook in the dark.”
Neither man was going to put up a fuss, but Smitty cautioned, “Just make sure you stay in the house, and that no one can see you from across the street.”
“Not a problem,” said Paula. “I brought everything I’ll need in with me. I won’t need to go out the car, and the kitchen is in the back. Don’t worry about me. Just don’t you two get caught peeking out the window.”
Greg smiled at Smitty, and Smitty smiled, too. Maybe this would be all right to have some female company.
Ray had cut the ropes on a nearby saw in less than a minute. He had grabbed the pitchfork and waited by the door. Then waited some more. Soon he was looking out the knotholes in the barn towards the house.
He saw the old man sitting in a rocking chair, rocking in the dirt in back of the house. Resting on his lap was the shotgun, and he didn’t look like he was going anywhere anytime soon.
“Damn.” It was all that Ray could think to say.
Ray thought about sneaking away through the back door and across the fields. But when he looked, he realized the front door was the only door. “Figures,” he said to no one.
There was a small window with some glass panes, but if he broke the glass or made noise getting out the window, the old man would be there before he could run even halfway across the bare field. Ray thought about the old man’s comment about the wide pattern of the shotgun.
It would be dark soon, though. Ray could wait, and then, in the dark, he would make his escape.
John had just spent a nearly perfect day at school. The students seemed to be truly interested in the intricacies of stage design, and had completed their worksheets in an acceptable manner. John had finished his money wish list, and truly felt like his life was blessed.
It was because John was really starting to believe he would get the money. He would be able to spend it as he wanted, and the problems they had faced as a family would disappear. His bliss was so complete, he didn’t even recognize that he was the only one in town spending an entirely perfect day.
His best friend was staked out across the street from his home, waiting for a homicidal maniac to come to John’s house to retrieve the money. His family was in mortal danger, and if they all survived without major incident, it would be a miracle.
John had the ignorance of bliss, truly clueless about what was really happening. Like most people who are surprised when the expected suddenly turns to the unexpected, John was like a deer eating peacefully by the side of the road unaware that the distant roar was an oncoming car. With headlights on bright.
John was so pleased with himself that he decided to treat himself on this most exceptional of days. Stopping by the convenience store on the way home from school, he bought a chocolate covered devil’s food cake donut and a large drink. It was the perfect ending to a perfect day, where the universe was ordered and everything was fine. John would feel much different about his universe in the morning.
Paula came back with food that had been tantalizing them for the last half-hour. The smells coming from the kitchen were so good, they were both tempted to leave their posts at the windows and get the first piece of food for themselves.
The fried chicken was perfect. Not too crisp, not too greasy, and just hot enough to warm them all over. Greg knew something about Paula’s cooking, since she had been slowly preparing him for this fate. That had included several home-cooked meals. Greg was beginning to wonder if he really was a bad detective. He should have seen what she was up to long ago.
“Not bad, huh, Harold?” Greg motioned to the spread.
“Sure beats cold pizza,” Smitty said grudgingly. Greg gave him a dumbfounded look, and even Paula looked insulted at the slim praise.
“Okay,” Smitty said, giving in. “This fried chicken is the best I have ever had.”
Now the other two were smiling. “Better than your wife’s?” asked Greg.
“Much better,” Smitty grinned. “And if you ever tell her this, I will lie like a rug and deny I ever said it.”
“Look across the street.” said Paula. The darkness was falling on the town, and John Graham was pulling his car into his garage. “He’s home.”
“The pigeon has returned to the roost,” said Smitty cryptically. Then he took another bite of the bird in his hand.
The sun was setting in the west, and the hills scattered the light across the farm. Some parts were already in the dusky twilight, but where Simon was sitting, it was still bright. Simon knew Ray would have an advantage when darkness fell. Then this old man would have to go into the house and call the local authorities, instead of getting some of the cash for himself first like he had planned.
This crook didn’t need all that money, and by God he sure didn’t deserve it. But since God had put him into Simon’s hands, well, there must be a reason for it. The guy must have spent some of the $100,000 by now, and if Simon skimmed a little off the top before the crook went to jail, well, that was the reward for being smart and old enough to know what to do when opportunity presents itself. “You’ve got to strike while the iron is hot,” Simon thought to himself. While he had a few more moments to contemplate actually going into the house to call the police, Simon thought back to what that stupid saying actually meant. Probably something about blacksmithing, which Simon had done a bit of when he was younger.
“Stupid city slickers probably think ‘iron’ means like an ironing board, and that you should iron your clothes while the iron was hot,” thought Simon. “Idiots. Way too many people in those big cities never got the chance to see what life and death was all about like farm people got to see” he muttered to himself.
That made Simon stop and think that there might be just one more thing he could do to get some money out of this fellow before the cops spoiled his fun. He rose from the chair and went into the kitchen.
Ray thought that his chance had finally arrived. The old guy was going into the house, and it was getting dark enough to sneak out of his self-imposed trap. He was thinking about running around to the front, and just jumping in the truck, but the keys would probably not be there. Besides, after eating dirt from the road, Ray was ready for some payback.
He edged slowly to the door, hoping the moon wasn’t bright enough to light him from behind. He looked toward the back of the barn, and felt comfortable that the moon wouldn’t outline him in the door. As he slowly opened the door, he could see Simon on the phone in the kitchen. Simon was still looking out at the barn and he was talking to someone, but Ray couldn’t hear the words. Ray decided being tied to a phone which still had a cord hooked to the wall was as good as chance as any, and he pulled the door open slowly.
Apparently Simon could see him well enough to sight in his gun, because a shot roared from the kitchen. Ray jumped back as he saw, heard, and was hit in the forehead by tiny shot pellets. It felt like someone had poked him in the face with a porcupine. He jumped back into the barn and fell to the dirt floor. He ran his fingers across his forehead, and the blood covered his hand.
He swore and wiped the blood with his shirt. His hands were still around the pitchfork, and he was furious. Ray began to shake as he thought about this old man holding him hostage in an old barn. Ray vowed that when the time was right, the old man would pay.
Simon was chuckling to himself in the kitchen. He would have to replace the window pane in the kitchen, but he had replaced plenty of window panes in his life, and had never had the fun of shooting one out at close range. He was also amused to see Ray hop back in the barn, and as he loaded another shell, he reminded himself to get another box of these. They sure had a nice spread.
Then Simon picked up the phone again. Still watching the barn, he called his other neighbor to the south.
Smitty was talking into his radio. Signing off, he walked up to Greg and started packing up his briefcase. “We just got a call about Raymond Johnson. He’s stuck in a barn about 40 miles from here,” he explained. “Some old guy recognized him from the television report and walked him back to his house.”
Greg and Paula looked at each other. “So you’re going to pick him up?”
“Well,” said Harold Smith, snapping the strap over his revolver which hung from his shoulder, “if it were only that easy. Seems he’s pinned down in the barn because he ran from the old guy. This Simon Green is waiting outside the barn with his shotgun.”
“But it’s getting dark,” Paula said. “He’ll probably just wait until it’s too dark to see him and sneak back here.”
“He’ll probably try to do that, so why don’t you two stay here while I go out to the farm with some reinforcements” said Smitty, as he walked out the door. “You don’t even have to stay here if you don’t want to, and I can call you if there is any trouble.”
Paula spoke up before Greg could agree to go. “Well, you’ve rented the place for the night, haven’t you? No sense just packing up now and leaving,” she said, looking at Greg in a way that made him not want to protest. “We’ll just wait here for your call and when you have him safely in custody, we’ll come find you.”
Greg coughed. This was a bit uncomfortable for him, but he was an adult, and he really did want to stay with Paula. Technically, he could go with Smitty, but given the choice, he spoke up. “Yeah, we don’t want to endanger John by deserting our post. You never know what can happen with one man trapped in a barn surrounded by a dozen state police.” He grinned.
Smitty laughed and waved his hand back at them. He didn’t need the help. But apparently, Paula needed this time alone with Greg. It really wasn’t necessary to say anything, so he just left.
Simon’s friends began showing up just as Ray was planning to come out of the barn again. It was fully dark now, and Ray doubted even Simon could find him fast enough in the dark to get off a shot. But when he saw a tractor pull up, he knew this was not going to be as easy as he thought.
Simon motioned for Joe to pull around the back. But Joe had got the plan on the phone, and pulled around the back perfectly, parking a respectable 15 feet from the barn door. The bright lights of the tractor shone through the cracks, and Ray had to crouch down. Simon got up from the rocking chair and walked toward Joe. He handed him the shotgun and said, “Shoot him if he comes out. I’ll go pull my truck around from the front.”
Joe took the gun and took aim at the barn. Ray crouched down further, and swore into the dust. He was still holding the pitchfork, and wanted nothing more than to stab those two old guys like bales of hay.
Simon’s truck appeared and his headlights were trained on the door to the barn. He got out of the truck and walked over to take the gun back.. He then walked over and leaned against the front of the truck. Joe walked over and whispered something in Simon’s ear. Simon motioned to the house with his thumb.
“Now what?” was all Ray could say.
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Click on the player to hear an audio version of this piece Chapter FifteenThursday Jul 08, 2010
Change a Man
Thursday Jul 08, 2010
Thursday Jul 08, 2010
Change a Man
There’s an old joke about not trying to change a man, unless he is in diapers. Reforming ourselves may be just as difficult. Especially if the change involves food.
I complained last week about not getting my au jus with my French Dip sandwich, and I guess it has been bothering me so much I got another one today. But before I pulled out of the Arby’s parking lot, I checked to see if I had my hot, meaty au jus. It was there, and the sandwich was delicious. So eating habits can be hard to change, and I have found the fewer things I am actually allowed to eat the more weight I gain. I was okay with cutting out broccoli and spinach, but it has to be replaced by something, and today that was curly fries. At least they are in the vegetable group. The fried vegetable group, but at least at one point they were vegetables.
I had the same problem with soda. As a dedicated Coca-cola drinker for the first 21 years of my life, I had a problem when we moved to California. The water at the Coke bottling plant was nasty, and I could taste it in the drink. I switched to Pepsi, and have never gone back. I’ve now been drinking Pepsi longer than I drank Coke, by about 10 years. I’ve teased my mother about weaning me with “Num-num”, one of my first words for the nectar of the Gods we call cola. But there always was a bottle around, and I got used to having caffeine whenever I wanted it.
For those of you who are caffeine purists, I do have to state for the record that caffeine is my drug of choice. I even like it when it comes to my pain medication, and probably so do you. No, you scoff? Well, contemplate this little detail. If you like Excedrin as your drug of choice to get rid of headaches, pains and other life complaints, you may be one of my caffeinated friends. Each tablet contains 65 milligrams of caffeine along with the other ingredients. That’s the same amount of caffeine in four 12 ounce Cokes, or three 12 ounce Pepsis. No wonder I like Pepsi better. More caffeine per cup.
Thinking about the relative ease of my access to caffeine in my youth makes me wonder what restrictions on goodies does to us. I know my wife has a great sweet tooth, and her parents worked on the principal of the equally divided candy bar. Since she was in a larger family, they didn’t buy each kid a candy bar, but split up the delicious treat equally, so each kid would get about a fifth each.
When we married, I was used to eating a whole candy bar, and she wasn’t. When I told her to pick her own candy bar, she kept insisting on having part of mine, and I don’t like to share all that much. She told me recently, after more than 30 years of marriage, that she thought I was incredibly wasteful and greedy to want to eat a whole candy bar myself, instead of sharing one. She’s over it now, and doesn’t hesitate to get whatever she wants, but I bet it still makes her feel guilty.
Here’s one food reform which has worked for me. Since I’m basically a lazy person, I have found a couple of foods I like to eat for breakfast and lunch. I keep them both at work, and use the microwave I brought from home to prepare these incredibly bland, boring and mostly tasteless meals. I cook oatmeal for a couple of minutes each morning and dump a bit of real maple syrup on it. Then I start cooking some brown rice for lunch, and I’ve only burned the rice four or five times of the hundreds of times I’ve prepared it. That’s right. I eat rice for lunch every day and oatmeal for breakfast every day.
It’s probably more healthy than the stuff I used to eat, which was mostly pre-packaged. It is bland, and it is boring, and people ask me how I can stand to eat the same thing every day. I’m not sure how to answer. I like to drink Pepsi every day, and no one asks why I drink the same drink all the time. They know I’m addicted and they know better than to ask. But can you get addicted to oatmeal, maple syrup, rice and sugar? Probably.
At least my body knows what it is going to get most days. I guess the process of reformation starts with the recognition change is needed, and then the willingness to change.
Tomorrow maybe I’ll have rice for breakfast and oatmeal for lunch.
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Click on the player to hear an audio version of this piece Change a ManTuesday Jul 06, 2010
A New Path
Tuesday Jul 06, 2010
Tuesday Jul 06, 2010
A New Path
Habits can dull us to the real question many people ask at some time in their lives. When we stop and think, we ought to consider why we are here. Is there a reason for you to be here on this planet at this particular time? Have you thought about what it is you are here to do? Do you have a higher purpose? Is there a nagging suspicion in the back of your mind telling you there has to be more? Perhaps it is time to explore the unexplored part of ourselves.
Henry David Thoreau once said “When it's time to die, let us not discover that we have never lived.” Reforming our lives is not an easy thing. Apparently, I am supposed to attend more wedding receptions, since twice in two days I have been reprimanded the chaotic forces of my life.
Yesterday, one of my former students again invited me to attend her wedding reception. On a campus of thousands of people, she and her sister found me in my car and reminded me about the wedding. She even turned to her sister and insisted I never attend receptions. It’s true. I am a little anti-social when it comes to keeping in touch with former students. I usually have so much to do with my current students that I tend to lose track of the old ones. I also have church responsibilities which would normally include attending an unusual number of wedding receptions. So let’s just say I have probably been avoiding one of my social duties.
When we talk of reforming ourselves, going to social functions may not be at the top of the list. But someone or something is trying to get me a message about honoring the norms of our society, and that includes celebrating the fact that people want to spend their lives together. People came to my wedding reception. Why am I so stubborn? Some of these social customs are the glue that hold our society together, and with so many disctractions in our lives, it’s easy to neglect the things that make us a society.
While I’m on the subject, I have been reading some of the writings of Eric Hoffer this week, and he believed we joined mass movements because of the emptiness we feel in life. In his book “The True Believer” he tried to help us understand why people would support Nazi policies, and he concluded most people would rather be told what to do, than use the freedom we have to find out what we really want to do. He also said that when people are left to do as they please, they usually imitate each other.
I hope you take this opportunity to really examine your life and see if you are doing something that makes a difference in your life and the lives of others. When we get outside our prejudices, hatreds and envy, we are really able to do those things we were meant to do. As Eric Hoffer, observed, people hate those who remind them of their inadaquacies, of their own shortcomings. We need to examine the causes we so vehemently support and wonder out loud just what that energy could be better spent doing. You know what it is. No one else can tell you what you need to be doing. You know what would be a better use of your time. The real question is whether or not you are going to get up off the couch and do it.
It doesn’t have to be a thermonuclear reaction. It may be you just need to attend more wedding receptions and affirm the urge of most in this world to try and make the world a better place for themselves, but also for someone else. We all sacrifice something to exist in this human sphere, and that might be paying more taxes than we want so the roads will be better. It might be getting paid less than we want for a more satisfying job. It may be using our millions to make the lives of others better.
There really is something about being excited about our own causes. We don’t need the direction of someone else, we don’t need marching orders. We won’t have to say someone gave us an order we were just following. We will be focused on what is right, and what is wrong, and we will be clear about what we can do about it. If what we think we need to do involves tearing down someone else, then we probably need to ponder our true purpose some more.
There’s today’s challenge. Can we find out what it is we really want to be doing, and not just be following someone else? Good luck. It’s harder than it sounds. But you should still invite me to your wedding reception.
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