DAYS GONE BY

DAYS GONE BY

I must be getting older, because I find myself reminiscing about the way “things used to be”. I remember as a kid growing up, listening to my father and the “old ones” discussing “the good old days”. If memory serves me, they felt things were better built, less expensive, and generally more substantial in years gone by.

Fast forward a few dozen years and even I can recall all the changes that have happened in my life time. To be honest, I think most of the changes have been good ones that have made my life easier and more comfortable. In keeping with the traditional way of recalling these things, I believe it is appropriate to start off with the phrase: “When I was a kid”….

Well, when I was a kid I can still remember the Milk man, he would deliver our milk in sturdy glass bottles right to our door and leave them in a little metal box, where he would find our empty return bottles. (not to mention my collection of marbles and jacks). Today we get our pasteurized homogenized milk in paper cartons at the grocery store or seven- eleven (which are now 24/7’s). Back in the days we had old rotary dial phones and “party lines” (boy, I can remember listening in on some juicy conversations of the neighbors). In fact I can still remember my phone number from when I was a kid in Jersey: Fulton 8-3818 (we always said the number with the spoken area code)

When I was I kid, a fill up at the gas station was done by a uniformed gas station attendant. Getting the windows cleaned and “checking under the hood” were also part of the service. Today It’s self serve and pay at the pump, no need for human contact or a friendly hello. Back then, there was a T.V. repair shop on every corner, today there is a bank or Starbucks. In the old days the music featured the sound of the big bands, with all the players dressed in suits and ties, today its rock and rap in baggy pants.

Back in the day a myriad of products were made by hand, by craftsmen that had a lot of pride in their work, today many things are mass produced by automated processes and robots. It seems thing back then were made to last a long time, while today most products are considered disposable (or they are quickly replaced by newer technology)All this efficiency is actual capable of producing products with closer tolerances and less errors, as well as replacing humans in many job roles. The only down side to that is, we have been so efficient with automation that we automated ourselves out of much needed jobs (freeing up our time to stand on the unemployment line)

Today, everything is computerized and mechanized to save time and labor, from the kiosk in the mall to the ATM’s on every street corner. From the self check in at airport terminals (when was the last time they mailed you a paper ticket) to the self check out at Home Depot. E-mail has largely replaced regular mail (or snail mail), paying bills and shopping are done “on line”. For the most part, Good old fashioned service has been replaced by self service; in fact much of the one on one, person to person service seems to be gone forever. When we do experience great customer service, it stands out all the more.

As much as I sometimes long for ‘the good old days”, by and large I’m glad for most of the innovation and change. I would really hate to do without my microwave, dishwasher, cell phone, and a host of other modern amenities (not to mention indoor plumbing). As much as we complain, Cable T.V. with hundreds of choices appealing to most tastes (including the knitting channel), is really preferable to the old broadcast television with a dozen channels. And I really would have a hard time living without cable news and satellite radio in my car.

As I think about it, some of the best things from years gone by are still the best things today (maybe changed a little bit). The classic old movies like Gone with the Wind and The Wizard of Oz, continue to delight new generations of viewer. Re-runs of old shows like I love Lucy and the three stooges are just as funny today as they were back then. I guess some things are just timeless.

You know, overall I think we have come a long way. It’s always fun to think back and reminisce, but as far as I’m concerned “There is no time like the present”. To be honest with you, I find myself looking forward to what the future will bring. Its exciting to contemplate the new discoveries and inventions that will enhance our lives even more. My philosophy is: “Overall its good to remember the past, but try not to get stuck there”. In fact, if these were the “good old days”, I be sitting here in a white “wife beater” T” tee shirt, listening to a scratchy vinyl record, crouched over an old fashioned typewriter, with a gallon sized bottle of white out and a few sheets of “copy paper”, smoking a pack of Camels…..Oh yes..I remember.

P.I.B.

MAKE UP YOUR MIND

MAKE UP YOUR MIND

Make up your mind to act decidedly and take the consequences. No good is ever done in this world by hesitation.
Thomas H. HuxleyEnglish biologist (1825 - 1895)

I think it’s important to ponder over important decisions. You certainly want to gather all the facts, and don’t want to rush when you are contemplating open heart surgery or writing your will. These are important decisions that will have long lasting and life changing effects on your life and well being.

That being said, not all decisions carry this level of import and consequence, yet I come across people every day that seem to weigh and agonize over all their decisions equally. Strangely, It seems to occur in direct proportion with the times I am behind them in line and most in a rush.

I try to be a polite kind of guy, but my patience and goodwill can only be stretched so far. I find myself screaming in my sub-conscious…”Come on people, make up your freek’in mind.” You are not taking out a mortgage on you house, just decide, what toy you want with your happy meal.

Now, I hoping my readers can help validate my feelings on this. Am I the only one that gets pissed off in these situations? Do these people have any common courtesy, or are they suffering from some kind of learning disability. It seems even the people that are waiting on them, are rolling their eyes in disgust.

Listen, if deciding weather you want sugar and cream in your coffee is such a brain freeze moment, maybe you should have thought about it for 15 minutes or so, before you got ahead of me in line.

I think the worst part is that these “non-deciders” are completely oblivious to the painfully obvious signs of impatience that everyone around them are exuding. A quick look around detects, foot taping, eye rolling, yawning and the all to familiar international signs to pick up the pace: the wrist roll (palm-in), or the middle finger (with eyes wide open as an exclamation point).

I often run into the “decisionally challenged” at the pharmacy: I have to wonder, Are they picking up a prescription or going thru medical school ?

Non-deciders seem to be particularly prevalent at a hotel concierges desk, after all those polite and knowledgeable people are there to help, Right.. but after waiting in line for 15 minutes behind the same person, I have to wonder if they are making dinner plans, or retirement plans.

So, how can we politely deal with the decision-challenged people we encounter everyday. Sometimes these folks just need a gentle nudge to get their brains back in the game. They can be identified when they make the statement “On the second thought” (for the 4th time). No, need to be rude, after all we all have moments of indecision from time to time. I’ve devised a few methods to aide in their decision making process, not dissimilar to the closing techniques that salesmen use:

Phrase you question so that a simple Yes or No will suffice
Positive affirmation: “I think you would really enjoy the rice, its really quite good
Pre-Emptive acknowledgement: Nod your head yes, as they answer
I’m assuming you want that with fries ?

Acknowledge the rest of the people that are waiting in line: I’ll be with the rest of you 20 people
in a moment.
Take all the time you need to decide. Would you mind if I helped the next person in line…”Next”

I was going to write a few more paragraphs on this subject, but I just couldn’t make up my mind. Sometimes it seems it easier to convince another person of what they should do, then to make up our own minds ?

Gotta run, it’s almost noon, and I have to start thinking about what I want to make for breakfast tomorrow morning.
P.I.B.

YOUR OWN LITTLE WORLD

YOUR OWN LITTLE WORLD
Footnote: As you can tell by some of my previous articles, I’m fascinated by human thought and behavior and enjoy taking a closer look at why we say and do things..

Have you ever noticed that when you are traveling in your car, you are in your own little world ? There you are, the cab of your new Mercedes is quiet and isolated, the car has automatically re-arranged the seats, mirrors and steering wheel to your exact preset specifications. As soon as you reach 15 miles an hour the doors automatically lock to help insure your safety. The a/c is blowing cool, at just your perfect pre-set temperature, the satellite radio is set to your favorite commercial free channel and light jazz music permeates the air, thru acoustically correct and balanced surround sound speakers. An ice cold Pepsi is in the drink holder. Those special ultraviolet blocker Sunglasses are shading your eyes and giving the illusion that the world outside your custom tinted windows is crystal clear. You are 100% in control of your environment and the GPS navigation is even telling you when to turn and the distance to your destination. The truth is, its no surprise to you that everything is just right, after all, you went thru great trouble and expense to insure it was to your liking. You are like an island unto yourself. It just doesn’t get better that this.
When you stop to think about it, each of us lives in our little world, not dissimilar to the self imposed isolation we experience in our luxury cars. A world that we helped shape to our own liking. Have you ever noticed that even as people are walking on a busy sidewalk, they seem distant and detached ? A far off look in their eyes ? There they are awash, in a sea of humanity, yet strangely lost and consumed, in their own thoughts.
Of course we all live and work in a complex and crowded social environment, but within that setting, we all reserve a small and encapsulated world of our own. I guess that’s what makes us all individuals, what makes us all different.
Each of us operates under his or her own code of ethics, our own pre-conceived ideas, goals, agenda, and prejudices. To a large degree our actions are self serving, as we seek things that give us pleasure and avoid things that we find painful. Let’s face it , our brains are hard wired…we’ve got to look out for # 1. (it’s our prime directive)
We learn early on to share, get along, and interact with those around us. However everything we see and do passes thru our own set of individual mental filters. Some data is filtered on the way in and some filtered on the way out. In fact, we have so much control over what we see and hear, that sometimes we unknowingly seek input from sources that are likely to reinforce our way of thought. We bend the information we take in, thru our mental filters, to more closely coincide with what we want to see or hear.
I guess this sense of tunnel vision is why we always think we are right in any given argument. Every conversation, interaction, relationship, and altercation tends to effect our self worth..either positively or negatively
Taken to an extreme some individuals can be quite abrasive. This probably explains why some people we see walking around and driving seem so self absorbed. (everyone else get out of my way)They are wrapped up in their own thoughts, problems, worries, priorities, and ambitions. In some cases these self centered individuals begin to think that the whole world actually revolves around them.(sometimes our parents reinforce this notion while we are growing up). You know the ones I’m talking about, they have this far off, and pre-occupied look in their eyes as they walk right into you without even apologizing. (don’t get in their way when they are making a move towards a buffet line).
So, even though we are largely social creatures, we all reserve a personal space for ourselves, both physical and mental. This probably also explains the phrase “I just need a little time for myself”. So, even though we can choose to let people in to our private space from time to time ..it’s still…”Our Own Little World”
P.I.B.

A HEART BEAT AWAY

A HEART BEAT AWAY

I didn’t actually realize it at that moment, but my whole life was about to change. It was a typical Friday night and I had ducked out of work a half hour early to get a start on the evenings festivities. I feel like I earned the early out, after all, I am the top producing salesmen in the company, and a real work-aholic. My plan was to run back to the apartment, catch a shower and a few beers and then meet some friends for dinner.

When I got to the house I noticed I had a few messages on the recorder. The first two were from work and I had to call some customers back right away. That little exercise took almost half an hour. So, much for getting out a few minutes early. I was about to listen to the next 2 messages but rather than be late for dinner I decided they could wait until the morning.

Well, dinner and a few drinks ended up being dinner and quite a few drinks. I ended up leaving my car at the restaurant and got a taxi ride home. By the time I woke up on Saturday it was almost noon, and I had one hell of a hangover. To make matters worse, I had to ask a neighbor to drive me back over to get the Vet.

I got back to the house late Saturday after noon and noticed the message machine still blinking. I had forgotten about the two un-played messages from the other night. Both messages were from my friend Tony. He called to remind me that he was leaving on his cruise and asked if I would bring in his mail and newspapers. He sounded excited as hell and I was glad that he was taking some time off. In fact I had suggested he take the cruise as a way to relax and reminded him not to bring his laptop or cell phone. The guy is a type “a” over achiever and a true work-aholic, just like me. I have known Tony for over ten years and considered him one of my closest friends. He is as close to family, as I have left, especially since I haven’t talked to my parents or sister in over 7 years. I’d do anything for that guy.

The second message was also from Tony. This one had a much more somber tone. It seems a good friend of his had evidently been rushed to the hospital and he feared it was a minor stroke. Tony had briefly considered canceling his trip but asked me to follow up on his friend in the hospital instead. Tony left me the guys name and room number and told me he would call me from the port when he got to Mexico.

I figured this would be an uncomfortable visit, being that I had never met Jason, but as I mentioned there was no way I would turn down doing a favor for Tony. I’m really not a procrastinator, but I farted around for a few hours, and by that time I was pretty certain that visiting hours would be over anyway, so I made myself a promise to go see him first thing in the morning.


Anyway, Sunday morning I stopped at a grocery store and bought a get well card and a few flowers and headed on over to Memorial hospital. The parking lot was full but I found a spot after driving around a few times and headed for the main entrance. The minute I walked in the front door I remembered why I hate hospitals. I get a weird feeling in these places and felt like turning around and heading back to the car. Instead I pushed on thru and made my way to the elevators. I pulled the note from my pocket to refresh my memory. Yes, Jason King, room 415. The label on the elevator showed Floor 4 as I.C.U. , maybe this guy was in worse shape than Tony was aware of.

When I got off the elevator on floor #4 there was no one at the big octagon shaped nurses station, so I headed thru the double doors looking for room 415. Ok, 412,413,414…this is the one. The door was partially open so I walked in. It was a private room with only one bed and the drapes were pulled closed.

I worked my way around the I.V. pole and over the bed table to the side of the room closest to the windows. “Jason…Mr King, I’m Luis a fiend of Tony’s”. There was no answer, it was evident that Jason was sound asleep. It was also evident that this guy was older than I had anticipated and he didn’t look good at all. By this time, I was feeling pretty damn uncomfortable and was asking myself what the hell I doing here in the first place. I thought about just leaving the flowers and the card on the table and hitting the road, but I felt obligated to stay for at least a few minutes.

I sat down on a well worn wood and leather chair by the window and just kind of stared at the heart monitor going thru its paces. I could hear Jason breathing heavily while breathing in oxygen thru the tubes in his nose. Now, I’m not a doctor but I could tell this guy was not doing well. In a quite tone, almost a whisper, I told him not to worry, and that he would be O.K. Almost immediately it seemed as if his breathing became easier and less labored. For some reason, I felt like maybe my presence there had consoled him in some small way.

I set there for another 15 minutes and as I was getting ready to leave the old guy opened his eyes and said..”Thank you, that was very kind, will you come back again ?” Maybe he caught me off guard or maybe my conscious just took over, but without even thinking, I said “yes, I would”. I noticed a tear running down his cheek. I left the room feeling like I had done the right thing for both my friend Tony and for this poor guy lying there in obvious pain. On the way out, I decided to stop by the nurses station so that I could get a report on his condition, so that when Tony called me in a day or so from Mexico, I could tell him how his buddy was doing.

I stood silently at the desk for a moment as a young nurse was finishing up with a phone call. I told her I was checking on a stroke patient, Mr. King, in room 415. Almost without looking up she told me that Mr. King did not make it and passed away yesterday. The gentleman in the room was Mr. Penski and he had just been brought up from the operating room with quadruple by pass, and was in critical condition. She told me that she was happy someone had visited the old guy and asked if she should add my name to the visitor list for Mr. Penski, because she was told he had no living relatives or local friends.

A torrent of thoughts rushed thru my mind. What happened to Tony’s friend Jason, what was I going to say to Tony when he called, and why the hell didn’t I get here yesterday like I was supposed to. Also, who was this poor guy, in the room now.

When I got home latter that day, I thought about the events that had transpired and reflected on just how delicate life can be. I guess when you think about it, each of us is only a heart beat away from our last moment in this life. This may sound corny but I decided right then and there to go visit the old man again the following day. Maybe it’s because he was so much like me or maybe it’s because no one should have to face the unknown alone. Either way, I knew it was the right thing to do.

The next day, I was good to my word and was back in the hospital right after work to see the old man. I sat in the old wooden chair just as I had the other day and that brought a pained smile to the patients face. He motioned to me to sit closer and in a very quiet voice told me his story. He had built a large business and made a lot of money in his life, however he ignored and alienated his friends and family in the process. He told me that he wished he had spent more time doing the important things in life and he regretted that. I was deeply touched when he told me that for all he had accomplished, he had too many things left un-said and left un-done.

We talked for a while more, and I could tell there was a lot more he wanted to tell me, but his labored breathing and fatigue seemed to steal his voice away. He rested for a brief moment and grabbed my hand. He asked If I would come back again, and I told him that I would. That seemed to put him at peace. A smile came over his face, as he closed his eyes, and he gently squeezed my hand. I set there for a minute with tears streaming down my face, for a man I barely knew, yet who had taught me so much. Somehow I knew he was gone, and yet I felt strangely honored to have shared his last moments with him.

We all have key moments in our lives, and that experience marked a turning point for me. I knew I had things left un-said and things left un-done in my own life, and I was now determined to address them right away. Because I realized, we are all just a heart beat away…..
P.I.B.

TO LEAD GREAT MEN

TO LEAD GREAT MEN

The role of leadership, although often sought, at times avoided, and is sometimes thrust upon us, or is awarded by default.

By whatever method you enter the leadership role, the mere assumption of the title will not insure the esteem of your people. At best, you may have their attention, but you must earn their loyalty and respect.

I can think of few higher callings than to lead great men. It is an honor and a privilege. And to think of it as any less, puts into doubt your very ability to assume the role. It takes great strength to be a leader, to lead from the front, and by example. The leader must be willing to acknowledge the contributions of his team to accomplishing any objective.

A great leader is a conduit, to channel the combined energy, intellect, ideas, and actions of his people. The leader, in turn, gives direction, vision, and discipline and produces the connection that allows his team to act in focused, cohesive manner. He helps the team move toward a common goal.

He creates a bond of trust and common cause with his men and they reward him with uncommon loyalty. The will not let him down, and he, not them.

This is what it means to lead great men.

P.I.B.

AIRPORT

AIRPORT

I seem to need to travel way more than I really want to lately. I have a rule, if the trip can be made by car in 5 hours or less, I’m driving, that’s all there is to it. That way, I’m the pilot, and I can leave when the heck I want. However, If the trip requires 5 hours or more, I’m usually booking a flight.

I think by now my car knows its way to the airport on auto pilot, and I hate airport travel days. They usually start off with me having to get up at o’dark thirty to get ready. Then I have a one hour drive to the airport, but of course I need to be there 2 hours early so that I can get go thru “security”. So the night before I always find my self doing that special airport reverse math. Let’s see…If my plane leaves at 7A.M. then I have to be there 2 hours early. Now allowing for a one hour drive to the airport and an hour to get ready, then I have to set my alarm for 3 A.M….hold on a minute here...wait…Let me do that math again…I was going to pack in the morning…

As you approach the airport traffic slows down to a crawl as you merge in with all the other idiots that had to get up a 3:30am so they could “make it on time”. Now your putting along at a good 5 mph, with all the excitement of a slow speed O.J. Chase, behind all the old farts deciding which lane they really want to be in. It usually takes a few minutes to find a spot in long term parking. Long term parking is an anachronism for “the next town over”, but don’t forget to bring a separate bank roll to pay the man in the booth that has your car hostage. Just be ready to re-mortgage the house, when you try to leave the parking area after your trip. Then you have to take a mini-trip on some type of bus, train, tram, or circus animal to get to the “main terminal”.

Ok, so now you’ve finally reached the main terminal after several hours of your trip or vacation and you have to go thru the cattle pens at the ticket counter. I don’t really get this part of the ritual, you are forced to stand in line again to get your boarding pass and drop off your luggage. Any, they give you a ticket and send you back packing halfway to the long term parking area to get to your “gate” .. which usually requires another train, or tram trip, a series of elevators, a team of pack mules, and several of those “motorized walkways”, were you are all but guaranteed to catch a communicable disease if you touch the handrail.

But before you can get to your gate you must go thru the security and delousing station. Here you are subjected to showing your ticket and I.D. another dozen times, while you halfway disrobe, and place all that is near and dear to you in disgusting plastic trays, while you walk barefoot on the Dr, Shoals haz-mat and athlete’s foot transmission carpet.

If you are really lucky you will be pulled aside to be “wanded” and striped search or sent thru that special modern day equivalent of a blood hound, the “scratch and sniff machine”. Once inside the machine blows a powerful jet of air on you in the hope of dislodging some forbidden scent. At the same time they are swabbing your carry-ons while busting the latched on your designer luggage.

Wow, what an ordeal, but now you can proceed to your gate where you can wait the remainder of the one hour and 47 minutes till your flight allegedly is to depart. As you stroll past the newsstands the smell of fresh Cinnabons fills your nostrils, you know, you have finally arrived Gate #3. Just as you sit down with your $12.95 Starbucks coffee, you hear an announcement that there has been a gate change and your flight will now be departing from Gate #297, on the other side of the airport. Well you have some time so you stop at the local watering hole for a quick drink or two. Maybe its your lucky day because you sit next to a couple of great looking women and a obviously inebriated guy in uniform and you buy them all a few drinks and really get drunk together…party…party.. only at the airport.

Wow, what kind of sicko starts drinking before breakfast? Anyway, at this point, I’m re-thinking my decision to fly vs. drive. Heck I’ve already walked half the distance to where I was going by now anyway. The only advantage of all this pre-flight activity is the fact that you get to people watch. You get to see, all kinds of people going to all kinds of places, for a wide variety of purposes. There is the business man heading to a meeting with a far off client, the family.. ready for their vacation experience, and the crying baby that you hope doesn’t sit next to you for the 6 hour flight.

Anyway, you now arrive at your new gate, with only minutes to spare before the flight, and as you look out the window, it becomes evident that the most important part of you air travel experience is missing. That’s right, you guessed it.. no airplane…your flight has been delayed because it was raining in Minnesota.

Sure your disappointed, but if you really think about it, it’s just like loosing in Las Vegas, its all part of the game. Besides, no one seems more unhappy about the whole thing than the guy over there sobbing in the corner. As he looks up at you and sheds a small tear, you recognize him from back at the bar, little did you know then, he was your pilot for the trip… Well it’s all part of travel and your fun day at the airport, so sit back, rest a spell, and go ahead and have that Cinnabon you’ve been trying to avoid all morning, your flight has been overbooked anyway.

P.I.B.

IDENTITY THEFT

IDENTITY THEFT

To start with, when you are an Italian boy from New Jersey, the concept of theft is not foreign to you. In my life, I have witnessed and been the victim of many types of theft. I hate to admit it, but when I was a kid I actually stole a pack of baseball cards from a small store. Of course when my dad found out the same day, I was back in the store with a full apology, the money for the cards, and a very sore backside. I learned a painful lesson early on.. “crime doesn’t pay”

In general, theft seems more rampant today, then it did when I was a kid. Back then it seemed real theft or, grand theft, was reserved for the pros, the mob, and the gangs. Today, theft is rampant in all socio-economic sectors of our society. Some do it for the money, some for the thrill, and some to pay for drugs. (some do it for a living..even in politics) Anyway you look at it theft is wrong. It unjustly deprives someone of their rightful belongings.

There is petty theft, industrial theft, car theft, grand theft, home invasion, auto theft(over 1 million), and countless other injustices. One of the most common forms of theft today is identity theft (just look up theft in google and see what comes up). Authorities are calling it an epidemic, effecting over 10 million people a year, and the fastest growing crime in the country. It is white collar theft, for people who don’t want to break into houses, banks, and cars at night. There are even commercials on T.V., from companies whose sole business is protecting your identity. I guess you can never be too careful. I have locks on all my doors, an alarm system, I park my car in the garage, bought two Dobermans, and wear one of those steel chain deals on my wallet, and now… I have to worry about my identity being stolen ? Give me a break, What’s next?

Credit car theft seems to be one of the biggest targets in the identity theft game. I know its getting bad because every time I go to use my credit card they have to call the credit card company to grill me on the phone. Even my own mom makes me answer her three security questions before she will talk to me on the phone.

Wow…with everything I have to worry about, now I have to protect my identity. I’m not even sure why anyone would want to be me. That’s all I need right now, is a posse of counterfeit Poor Italian Boys out there. (pretenders..and wanta be P.I.B.’s) And why, its not very glamorous to be me. There are days where I’m not even sure I want to be me. I mean you would think they would want to steal the identity of some rich movie star.. Stealing my identity is like stealing a Volkswagon. I would think any decent criminal would want to steal an important guy’s identity. (so much for taste) Yet the guy on T.V. says to protect my identity, so I better take heed.

I’m no fool, now that I’ve been warned about this whole identity theft thing, I’ve taken some immediate precautions to make sure I don’t fall victim to it. For starters, I went out and bought a long hair wig, along with a pair of those fake glasses with the plastic nose attached. Next I decided to change my name from P.I.B. (Poor Italian Boy)..to P.I.B. (Poor Iraqi Boy)..that should throw those would be thieves a curve ball. To really throw them off their game…I’m thinking about using a fake British accent on the phone, so that the “evildoers” won’t be able to know its me..when they “ring me up on the tele”. I’ve even snapped one of those bullet proof master locks on my trash cans and mail box to make sure I’m not the victim of prying eyes and dumpster diving (ps…if you do this, remember to give the garbage man and mailman a key…I haven’t had any mail or garbage pick up in a month).

I’m also told I have to be careful when I’m using my computer on the internet. Savvy would be computer thieves are “phishing” to criminally acquire my sensitive information. If I catch them I will stick my “phsoot where the phsun don’t phsine ”.They will send you an official looking e-mail or form asking you for security purposes to verify your bank account or social security number.

I’m also wondering if I can turn the tables on these identity thieves (or: future America’s most wanted stars)…if they steal my identity, then can I forward all my collection, stockbroker, and donations calls, along with my gambling debts over to them also. You never know… They may end up wishing they were not me…

B.I.P. (that’s P.I.B. encrypted)

AUTOMOTIVE PSYCHOLOGY 101

AUTOMOTIVE PSYCHOLOGY 101

Most Americans have an infatuation with their cars. For most people their cars represent their second largest single investment, next to their homes. Our cars are very important to us. They represent our personality, our status, and in many cases tell others a lot about ourselves. We own big cars, small cars, muscle cars, economy cars, and luxury cars. We buy two door, 4 door, SUV’s, sports cars, station wagons, and convertibles. We want a car that lends itself to our lifestyle. Cars offer us freedom, mobility, and sometimes just a way to escape.

I maintain that there is another dynamic in play here in addition to our clear obsession with our automobiles. Being the astute observer of human nature that I am, I’ve noticed a closely linked psychological phenomenon. I call it “Automotive
Dissociative Identity Disorder or ADID .(not to be confused with its close cousin Schizophrenia

This disorder is very prevalent in our society, effecting a large portion of our driving population both male and female. It derives from and is characterized by the fact that every human vehicle operator has two distinct personalities. We have our normal everyday social demeanor, and then when our car door closes, we assume our savage, antisocial, primitive and combative driving posture.(talk about your Dr, Jeckle and Mr, Hide)

Although this insidious affliction manifest itself across a broad cross section and spectrum of our driving population, it seems to infect female drivers most dramatically.(including the sub-category.. “little old ladies”)

I’ve already paid homage to the entire female race (just to be on the safe side, least I meet one in traffic), in a previous blog. It doesn’t hurt my male ego to admit that women may be better than men at some things. But I gott’a tell ya, driving aint one of them. Something magical, almost mythical happens when a women closes that car door. All that kindness, compassion, and higher level thought, gets left at the curb.(a comparison to Atilla the Hun would not be completely out of order here)

Although the behavior modification needs no other trigger other than a simple turn of the ignition key, the condition is often exacerbated by parking lots, heavy traffic, tailgaters, and other driving dumb asses. Symptoms are often manifested in abnormal and anti-social behavior such as: yelling, chanting of all four letter words, cussing, prolonged and uninterrupted use of the car’s horn, swerving past and dangerously close to the offending vehicle, and of course vehement and liberal use of the middle finger (except in the case of the arthritic old lady drivers and they shoot you the hook)

Even though there is currently no one cure for “Automotive ADID”, I now market several cures. First I have devised a driving with the fingers reinforced with wire, it gives you a great grip on the wheel and will not let you extend your middle finger. And my new breakthrough, an herbal supplement (not yet approved by the FDA) laced with Captain Morgan (available at drug/liquor stores everywhere, or on my website ..distributors welcome), to mask the symptoms.
Simply insert one tablet (rectally if possible) before pulling out of you driveway
And it acts with a reverse Viagra effect. Keeping the blood from rising to you face and middle finger.

Ps: the tablets are most effective when coupled with my Doctor P.I.B. phone counseling and anger management sessions, only $300 per hour.

P.I.B.

2nd AMENDMENT

2 nd AMENDMENT

OK…I’ll get this on the table right away. I’m a big believer in our second amendment rights.( Right to keep and bear arms) My guess is that’s why they made it 2nd, right behind amendment #1 ( Freedom Of Speech, Press, Religion and Petition) It’s ok…you can keep on reading I’m not going to try and convince you if you are on the other side of the issue.( not that I wouldn’t want you to be on the correct side of the issue…boy there’s a heat getter)
I’ve found that most people are very adamant about their position on the whole issue of guns, and I’ve been in enough death penalty vs. life in prison arguments to know when I can’t win.
Ok, bear with me for just a minute here…It comes down to this…you can’t legislate criminal behavior, because by their very definition, criminals don’t give a shit about the law. Criminals will always find a way to possess and use weapons to terrorize, rob, and kill passive citizens. Passing a law mandating that the citizens are not allowed to arm themselves, to insure self protection, is contrary to human nature.
History is replete with examples to document this point. A Very good example dates back to the origins of my initial martial arts style. Way back in 1477 on the island of Okinawa. The powers to be, banned the practice of martial arts. The locals resorted to practicing in secret. Later, the ban was extended to weapons , which in turn hastened the development of kobudo, which presses into service common household and farm implements as weapons, which proved to be every bit as deadly, in trained hands..(my Mom, was lethal with a wooden spoon)
Listen, the police are great and I have all the respect in the world for them, but they are known as the thin blue line. That hints at the fact that there will never (ever) be enough of them to always be there where you need them, at your exact moment of peril. At some point every human being has to take some responsibility for their own safety and security.
Personally, I can think of many instances where a lot of bloodshed could have been avoided, had : a school teacher, airline pilot, church member, shop keeper, (insert law abiding citizen name here), etc…been legally armed and prepared to stop the carnage with the use of judicious force.
I’ve tried to lay out a logical argument to support my point, but if for some reason that did not resonate with you, do me two small favors:
1> Spend 10 bucks and attend your next local gun show. Take a look at some of the characters walking out of there, loaded up with guns and ammo. The reality is, they now have a gun and you don’t..(enough said)
2 Now, tell me the truth on this one: A armed psychopathic madman breaks into your house at night and is about to harm a loved one of your’s….ok, you get the point.

It seems the founding fathers put a great deal of thought into their work. It’s vital we never let this or any other of our basic rights be abridged. Believe me, it’s a slippery path we don’t ever want to head down.
P.I.B.

THE OLD NEIGHBORHOOD

THE OLD NEIGHBORHOOD
I was looking at a picture of my old neighborhood the other day. Wow, there was the house that I grew up in. That small 2 story house is still standing, much like I remember it. I was surprised, it really hadn’t changed that much. They haven’t built a Wal-mart on the corner yet, I didn’t see any new condo’s, and the kids still fish and skate on old Milton Lake, just a few blocks away.
The small neighborhood park across the street, where I first learned to play baseball, has not given way to the developer’s bulldozer blade. In the basement of that house I took my first piano lesson on an old player piano. As I stared at the photo, I thought back on all my young friends and could remember their names and just what houses they lived in. More memories rushed back when I thought of the quiet side street where my dad taught me to ride my first bike.
I’ve not been back there, in many years, but I can remember living there, in great detail. We knew all the neighbors by name back then, we had block parties, and everyone watched out for other peoples kids.. Friends, family, and good carefree times ..Even though I have changed, and the world has changed, the old neighborhood looks remarkably the same. Strangely, there is a certain degree of comfort in seeing that.
I think we all have fond memories of that one home, that one time, and the people and friends that meant so much to us, as we grew up. It really didn’t matter how long we lived there, there was just something “special” about that house. Or maybe, I’m just lucky and had a special childhood.
As I think back, I can tell you, that if I was writing this on paper, you’d probably find a tear mark or two. Most of us will move on to many homes, and many neighborhoods, but each of us will always hold a special place in our hearts, for that one special place.
Even though it may be many years down the road, I think a lot of us occasionally take a sentimental journey back to that old house, to visit those old memories, even if it’s just in our thoughts and our dreams.

P.I.B

SOMEWHERE

SOMEWHERE

Somewhere in the world a mother is giving birth to her first child
Across the ocean a child is taking his first steps, before adoring parents
In this great world of ours there are people praying
Somewhere in the world a mother is grieving the loss of her son

Aren’t we really more alike than different?

YESTERDAY

Yesterday, I was young
Yesterday, I let time slip by
I can thank people another day
There is plenty of time to say I care
I should have said I love you
Tomorrow I will say I’m sorry
Yesterday… was the last day..

In the beginning

I'm not sure why anyone would really care, but I've decided to share my thoughts on Life, business, food, martial arts, shooting, politics, world affairs (and affairs in general) and everything else that motivates, or pisses me off. I gotta tell you, that covers a pretty broad spectrum of subjects, and at the same time manages to avoid all the things that I really don't give a shit about.

Just off the top of my head here are a few things from each heading above:

Motivates me: Making Money
Solving problems
Learning new things
Pisses me off: Hillary
Expensive cars that are built like crap
A bad steak at an expensive restaurant
Our legal system
Don't give a shit about:
How hard you think you have it
Employees that spend more time hiding then working
Half the self serving politicains in both parties

I think my upbringing and Italian hertiage gives me some unusual insights into most subjects. Although I don't claim to be an expert on many topics, I'm the world's leading authority on how "I" feel about them. I'm also willing to consider how you think about things, just don't expect me to change my opinion unless you have one hell of a solid argument.

Until latter
P.I.B