Category: Stories of Life

As both fists of my father’s hands hit the dining table, drinks from the three couples’ gilded glasses spilt onto the fine linen tablecloth below. “You did what?”  While his crescendo may not have matched that of Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music, it nonetheless made a riveting impression on those in attendance. Good guests all, everyone, including my mother and I, sat silent. I was amazed, having never before seen this side of my father’s behavior. Others had seen this type of reaction before in others, as evidenced by the betrayal on their faces. But not me. I had just witnessed what a group of incredulous people looked like. I was in the fourth grade and had much to learn. That night I would learn much. It seems…

If you are a Community Association Manager (CAM) or someone charged with the responsibility of managing landscapes, you have a rough and rugged road upon which to travel. And tradition informs us that many have lost their way; few have become independently wealthy and most dread the subject of landscape maintenance. This is especially true in warm weather regions where plants grow year-round. It does not matter what your job title or your job description is. You are the manager of a tree farm and plant nursery. You have as many or more trees and plants in your client’s property than most tree farms or plant nurseries grow in their entire inventories. The owner of the tree farm and plant nursery is your client: the association’s Board of Directors.  Your…

When the phone rings after midnight, it is typically bad news. This phone call was no exception.  I was driving with a million other people along an interstate trying to beat hurricane Florence to the punch and return home prior to her landfall. Had I heard that Maggie died?   My senses were immediately arrested as the chords of memory played out along a well-traveled highway with no gasoline or place to eat or sleep. And if anything went through my mind, it was the lessons learned from a waitress in a restaurant long before most readers of this post were born. Maggie was not any waitress. And the restaurant where we worked together was not just any restaurant: The Gulf View restaurant was a place where fat cats went…

My bride and I decided to step upon a path with irreparable conclusions as this slippery slope of truth was applied to our personal relationship. What if, just for 24 hours, we both applied that definition of truth? Could it even be done? And what would the consequences become? We had a solid foundation upon which to build, solid enough that I felt secure in accepting this daunting challenge of telling the truth, and nothing but the truth, for 24 hours. My bride and I are ethicists. Our upbringing in formative years and our professions hold us tightly to the matter of ethics. It’s an extremely boring subject, especially if one sits in an auditorium for a one-hour presentation and resultant CEUs. Moreover, the entire subject is boring. Everyone has…

I am the luckiest man in the marketplace. The older I get, the more I am  perceived as being better at my niche in the marketplace, better than somebody younger than I. I have noted much discussion and many articles regarding age discrimination in the workplace.  While paraphrasing, it seems the mantra of the older applicant or job holder is: "I have forgotten more than the younger worker (applicant) knows, and yet I am going to be fired or replaced by a younger applicant." I believe this statement to be true. So what is it that spurs the ubiquitous conversations on age discrimination? And why does age discrimination exist? I believe that it does exist, but cannot prove it. I do not attempt to prove it. An attempt is made to offer remedial possibilities for age…