Foremost on my Mind: Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy...Mother

Among the many (figurative) hats I wear, “entrepreneur” is one of them. That's a just another fancy-schmancy word for someone who gets a rush trying to earn some more gold—which would add a spin to the term “gold rush”--...and often fails.

Some of my failed attempts include the following: Marketing screen doors for submarines, going door-to-door in the Arctic (or would that be going igloo-to-igloo?) selling fridges, and running a farmer's market in the Antarctica.

Obviously these ventures would have failed...had they been seriously tried.

Closer to home, my entrepreneurship efforts generally have been around things we raise on the Back Thirty, with some measure of success, as well as my weekend teaching seminars and home education supervision. Happy, repeat “customers,” I suggest, is one measure of success. Paying all one's expenditures, with a token profit, would be another.

Once a given business shifts into high gear—namely, somewhere between a one-person fruit stand and trading on the Toronto Stock Exchange—there are many complications with running one's own business. Some of the said factors include promotion, product, and personnel.

It's the personnel or staffing dilemma that is a tack in my chair right now. I cannot tell you how many management-types have talked to me over past couple of years, bemoaning the desperate lack of qualified workers.

Note I said “qualified” and not “certified.” The prospective workers may have a grade twelve diploma, perhaps even a university degree. That apparently qualifies them for employment. However, that piece of paper (also known as a “receipt”) means squat when it comes to work habits, personal integrity, and teachability. To a person, these industry leaders would do anything to get potential employees to simply get to work on time, come prepared to work with a good attitude, and ready to learn the trade. The rest, they say, is up to them.

With the character void that is reaching Hurricane Sandy proportions in our failing Western culture, I have a simple suggestion. So simple, of course, that it may be seen as over-simple, even hopelessly naive.

The possible solution? Thought you'd never ask: Hire mature women.

Let me repeat (or skip this line and move to the next paragraph): Hire mature women.

I find the best clerks, the best nurses, the best waitresses, the best teachers, the best assembly-line personnel, the best whatever (and we're only discussing women here), are those who have lived life to a full extent (a good definition of “mature”), and are now ready to move on to the next challenge. Living life to a full extent could include years of marriage and raising kids, balancing budgets and schedules, working through marriage issues and hormone assaults, and dealing with teachers and collection-agencies, to say nothing of health and finance setbacks.

They know the shame of shysters, the absoluteness of assertion yet the necessity of niceness, and have that uncanny knack of going the extra mile. They have stuck at things they've hated through thick and thin, and know the importance of plodding on, regardless of feelings, friends, and fears.

I would hire a woman like that in a heartbeat. In fact, if I were premier, I'd love to have a few in my cabinet. I am aware that there is a balance between women who are qualified for the workplace, yet have responsibilities at home. Indeed, I would be very loathe to take a woman away from her more pressing role, if she was needed for her family.

(I am fully aware of the dangers of a woman working for a man who is not her husband, especially if her new boss is winsome, considerate and well-mannered. My thesis today is to recognize the inestimable worth of mature women in the workplace, when and where appropriate.)

So, after the kids have moved on, in one way or the other, I would draw from such a pool of workers. I find that when I travel—so I am speaking specifically of the service industry--they make the best gas bar attendants, motel clerks, and breakfast managers.

I am not discussing women in management, as I generally don't interface with them on a daily basis. Needless to say, the ones in management would also do a great job: Anyone who can manage a home well can manage a department or business well.

Mind you, I would likely get into trouble if I posted the following sign outside my business: “Now hiring: Only women over 40 need apply.”

I would probably have to hire a mature female security guard for starters: After all, she will have had lots of experience handling cranky people.

Foremost on my Mind: Busy and Tired?

Funny how distinct statements produce certain assumptions. And another word for certain assumptions is “presumptuous” or “presumptuousness.” Let me illustrate:

I may ask you how you're doing, and you tell me that you're “busy, busy, busy.” Or you might say, “really tired, man.” We hear those words—not interchangeable by any means, but perhaps the most over-used for today's discussion—and we are impressed with the badge of busyness, the honour of exhaustion.

I beg to differ, if you don't mind. (Actually, I beg to differ, even if you do mind.)

I seriously wonder if there is a sense of busyness that is actually a cover-up for simple disorganization. In other words, methinks many of us are seemingly run off our feet because there are too many demands on our time (possibly true), when, in fact, there is a woeful lack of pre-planning and thinking things through. That may involve after-school activities for the kids, shopping trips, house chores, and other good and noble things--not just time-fillers.

A little more fore-thought could mean a lot more time.

The same can be said for the laudable “really tired, man.” I am thinking that might be the same as “stayed-up-too-late-playing-stupid-computer-games” reason, which is kin to “just-not-eating-properly” or “snarfing-too-much-junk-food.” Sometimes, and I mean only sometimes, we are so tired because we are so undisciplined. And then we get so undisciplined because we are so tired. Then tired because...well, you get the picture.

Did I always think this way? Act this way? Are you kidding me? For years, I was always up past midnight, savouring every moment of the day until I could no longer function. And I cannot tell you how many times I was (almost) late for work, all because of one late night after another.

Why? Well, because I was so “busy” and so “tired.” Now I look back and say it was because I was disorganized and undisciplined.

These last ten years or so, and especially the last five, have seen a drastic change in my intake and output, that is, things I take on and things I get done. I believe I am more busy and more tired than ever before, but I would never hide behind those demands—especially to impress people, to gain their sympathy. I'm in bed earlier these days, up earlier in the morning, and get far more done than I ever did when I was a kid in my 30's.

It's like a math formula: More organization plus more discipline equals more results.

Hence, I am somewhat empathetic (as opposed to “sympathetic”) with the kids of today who are always so busy and too tired. Two questions come to mind: What are they busy with and what are they tired from? They have more gadgets and toys to theoretically make life quicker and smoother; they have more services at the tip of their fingertips (literally).

You might say they have more time on their hands (pun wonderfully intended).

I hesitate to flip back the pages of time and go to our parents' (or grandparents') generation, but it fits here. They had far less helps to save time, but somehow had far more time to build relationships and get things done. Go figure. Because of the demands on their time and energy, they appear to me to have been more organized and more disciplined. Money, time, resources, and energy were in short supply, so they had to be on top of everything they did. Those trips to the big city, for instance, were carefully planned out; there was no wasting a trip to town to do one thing only.

I think (notice my gracious tone, people) we are producing a generation that is marked by me-ism, instant this and that, and throwaway everythings. That rubs off on the workplace, the marriage, plus other relationships and institutions. And this can be traced back to those two simple words, “busy” and “tired.”

The trouble is, people may be legitimately busy or tired and mean it when ask them. I am obviously not referring to them. Nor I am not even judging those who struggle with time and energy management. I just find it an unfortunate waste.

I'll develop these thoughts further when I am not so, ahem, busy or tired myself.

Foremost on my Mind: Are You Driven?

If you want to get a sense of how healthy a culture is, check its driving habits. If that's too over-

whelming, select individuals—such as your husband/wife, sons/daughters, classmates/colleagues—and do the same.

And if you want to be really brave and personal, test yourself.

Good driving habits involve such seemingly picky practice as obeying all traffic signals and signs, maintaining appropriate speed limits, and treating other drivers with the respect they deserve. The inverse is also true, probably to a greater degree.

I am not sure if you have had proper driver's training (from your mother, like I did), or perhaps you learned by the seat of your pants (literally). Either way, I think I can help you out.

Let's start with colours. Work with me, people: Green means “go,” yellow means “slow,” and red means “no.” That was simple, wasn't it? Yellow, by way, does not mean “pedal to the metal.”

I will also suggest to you that when the speed limit says “110,” it is probably a safe bet that it means, uh, 110; you might get away with no more than 120--but certainly not 140. You see, I understand there is a grace amount--some legal wiggle room, if you will—that even peace officers allow for. After that, it's kerpow, right in the kisser.

One of the scariest moments in any driver's experience is this notion of road rage. I know, I know, you would never drop an f-bomb, or give a two-finger salute (minus one finger), or even make threatening gestures at drivers who cut you off. Or at least admit it in public.

But road rage is perhaps the most obvious example I could give in my metaphor here, that is, driving habits as a reflection our culture. Think of the anger, the impatience, the me-ism, all wrapped up in our reaction to the alleged wrongs caused by others. You're quickly asking, I'm sure: Is he talking about our culture or our driving habits? My point exactly.

Even something seemingly as trivial as blasting through a red light or consistently going over the speed limit speaks volumes for where we're at. These are reflections of a lifestyle where pushing the limit, doing first and foremost what we want to do (at the expense of others), and snubbing what's best for the overall public safety, and you see that the symbolism fits well. Only too well.

In an old mannish way, I feel really good when I see cars slowing down on an amber light, stopping at a red one. Even yesterday, I waved to another car, allowing him to nudge in front of me. Man, I felt like both a good person and good driver. It made me want to blow the horn—my own horn, that is.

You get it now, don't you? Driving is not one part of our life, with everything else in another part. If I'm a selfish jerk at home, I will quite likely be a road hog. If I am rude at work, I will likely be a weasel behind the wheel. If I am always pushing for my way and my things first, I'm bound to be rogue on the road.

I suppose there is always the problem of being too polite, too slow, or too obedient, but this is clearly the lesser of two evils. Whether it's living or driving, I do have occasional issues with people who just seem to be too good to be true; I just want to trip them or something. Mind you, if I tried that with a driver, I could get my foot run over.

So next time you're in Lethbridge or Medicine Hat—maybe even Bow Island or Foremost—check out how people drive. Maybe even check out how you and yours drive. It might be quite revealing. I'm not saying you need to arrest yourself, but you may want to assess yourself. Step back and analyze where you could improve your attitude towards the world around you.

You might even ask yourself: What's driving me?

Foremost on my Mind: Good News Indeed

I am a man given to wild and crazy ideas. Many do not make it past the doodling stage, a few slip up to the next level of plausibility, and the occasional one becomes a very good event.

One of my more crazy ideas, that is, sitting somewhere between doodling and dawdling, is that of either a Alberta-based magazine or a province-wide newspaper. If you are familiar with The British Columbia Magazine (formerly known as the Beautiful British Columbia Magazine), you will get a bit of a drift of what I would love to do: Snippets and features from each part of the province, with a a little dash from the past, plus plenty of well-deserved advertising.

The newspaper idea would be a little different: Whereas the magazine would be quarterly, the newspaper would be weekly, maybe even monthly. On a monthly basis, of course, the news would be stale and stagnant, thus negating the current events angle. It would be a newspaper given over to future events (not current events), happenings, announcements, and things relative as to what makes Alberta so great. News about rural life and family life, angles on Alberta's role in the greater Canadian mosaic and global landscape, would be part of the copy.

One of the key thrusts would be good news. Not embellished reporting, either, glossing over all the crummy information. Newspapers can't really sell much—especially the big players in the market—unless there are guts and gore, sex and sin, sensationalism and sensuality, in their copy. Small town players, like the one you're reading today, don't have to stoop to that to gain and maintain readership.

I know, I know, we have the Internet and other conduits of cyber ways to get news out. But I still believe there is a place for good, old-fashioned copy that we can read over our coffee in the morning, or late at night as we wind down for the day.

In addition to wholesome, positive and important information, my magazine or newspaper ideas—while a little different from each other—would also contain good news. There are great things happening throughout Alberta that we really need a chance to read about: Families that are making a go of it, despite financial setbacks; businesses that are growing and impacting their local communities; and young people who are making a positive change in their world. These are just for starters.

You see, it's not all about violence, sex, and greed. There are a lot of great things happening out there throughout our wild rose province, but we're not hearing about it.

Like the recent event that I'm aware of in Foremost, for example. Twice a year, for the past five years, hundreds of young people and some of their parents (that is, anywhere from 95 to 155 at a time) have converged on Foremost, for a time of life-skills teaching, food, fun, chilling, and more food. These are Christian young people, and their textbook is the Bible. There are all billeted by area people, buy gas and food at the local retailers, and play volleyball and soccer in the local community park They come Friday evening and are gone by Sunday evening—back to Coaldale, Calgary, Airdrie, Stony Plain, Edson, plus points west in BC.

I am aware of what they do and how they do it. To date, I have never picked up a beer bottle, heard an f-bomb, and seen a fistfight. This sort of event is news, but there is no real opportunity to get this sort of news out. It is important they we present our fellow-Albertans with good news-- again, not embellished, not partial, just the facts.

I don't know about you, but I really need to hear it. When I read or hear of weekend like this, it gives me hope, real hope.

I lose hope when I hear of knifings in Calgary, of murders on First nations reserves, of economic catastrophes, and such. There is a place for this sort of reporting, to be sure, but surely we have other good things happening that we need to write about and hear about.

Whether my crazy idea of a magazine or newspaper ever gets anywhere, I cannot say. But reporting good things is not a crazy idea, no matter the medium. Any message of hope is good, not bad—right?

In more ways than you can imagine, that is indeed good news.

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