I am sitting in Columbus Ohio.  So it goes.  The trip was uneventful.  The company was enjoyable but the driving habits of Midwesterners left much to be desired as we attempted to maintaine a fast pace on our journey.  I had the tunes cranked the entire way.  A quality sound system is essential to enjoyable road travel when one must travel in a four wheeler.  My son and I made the trip to meet the East Coast portion of our family for the extended Presidents Day weekend.  I prefer to treat interstate driving as a sporting event.  It helps break up the monotony of interstate driving.  Woe is it unto the mini van driver who would mindlessly amble in the fast lane when my Vortech powered GMC Yukon needs access to open highway.  I am not sure what it is about the mentality of mini van drivers.  They will change lanes a mile behind slower moving traffic to avoid the most remote possibility that they may have to kick off their cruise control.  The whole time they are unconscious of the line of traffic which backs up behind them.  Ironically, they are obliviously unaware of any personal annoyance which may result in those who have the misfortune of coming behind them.

            I am considering requesting one of the Senators from my home state to introduce legislation which would revoke the license of all mini van drivers.  In fact, I would take that one step further and suggest that anybody who has even entertained the idea of mini van ownership should be stripped of driving privileges as well.  They are too close to the obnoxious tendencies of oblivious drivers if they can imagine themselves in such an ugly, no class utilitarian type vehicle.  I truly wonder what happens in a man’s life where he would sink to the level where he has given up his self esteem, his masculinity and appreciation for adventure.  For truly, in my own mind, I would have to have abandoned all that I hold dear of my personal self to imagine myself owning one of those boxy, no-style, too small to haul anything cool, too embarrassing to ride in miserable excuses for transportation.

            And about the color maroon, burgundy, burnt red, sunset crimson, autumn blaze whatever you want to call it, this color has the propensity to enhance the unmindful driving abilities of your average mini van driver.  Don’t believe me?  Next time you find yourself stuck behind a fast lane dawdler take note.  There is a one in seven chance it will be a mini van of the dark red variety.  If you lived in Iowa the chances of the vehicle being from Butler or Bremer County is exponentially greater but that is subject for another story. 

Ok, so I have gotten off on a bit of a rant here.  I mean, slow drivers in the fast lane are one of the most common annoyances in our automobile dependent lives.  The fact that I let such an “insignificant in the big scheme of things” event get under my skin is not admirable as a personal quality.  Time for the Serenity Prayer; God grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.”  Poof!  Divine enlightenment!  I could attach a stinger missile delivery system to the luggage rack of my GMC.  It makes me giddy to think of the possibilities of utilizing equipment such as that!  Lord, give me the courage to follow through with this plan!

In all actuality I believe that the true reason I am subjected to the annoying driving habits of mini van drivers going too slow in the fast lane is a karma thing, a yin and yang thing, God Himself’s way of punishing me.  For you see, one of my favorite things to do when riding my Harley through town and finding myself at a stop light beside a hen-pecked, brow-beaten, demoralized and spineless mini van driver is to slowly look over, give the guy a nod and say, “Nice mini van.”  The first thing you would witness, if you had the opportunity, would be an immediate shoulder slumping head dropping posture change.  This is usually quickly followed by a reddening of the face and expletives or sign language which may or may not indicate I am number one.  This reaction is confirmation that I have struck a nerve and that means my work there is done.

There may in fact be some cosmic brotherhood which bonds all once proud males.  This brotherhood is made up of those who have relinquished their prominence as alpha male in their respective family unit.  I envision a telekinetic link which subliminally alerts them that an oppressor of the down trodden is in their midst and it causes them to mindlessly do things like slow down and change lanes. 

Apologies to all mini van drivers and readers who expect that I would take a higher road than I have in today’s entry.  I am sure that the nine hour drive I just completed and the fact that I drank two thermos bottles of coffee had nothing to do with it.  LOL, have a great weekend!

My Grandpa Caballero was born in 1895, a time of political unrest in old Mexico.  General Porfrio Diaz, (Don Profrio) had been in political power since he lead a rebellion against President Lerdo De Tejada in 1876.  Under his rule, Mexico had political stability and grew in many areas, creating new industries, railroads, and an increase in foreign capital.  This progress, however, never translated into real benefits for the people. 

            Soon there was political unrest.  In 1906 the Diaz army brutally repressed a strike of miners in the Cananea mine in Sonora.  The Cananea massacre is historically considered the spark that finally ignited Mexico’s revolution.  Eventually insurrectors: Pascual Orazco and Fransico “Pancho” Villa took control of much of the territory in the state of Chihuahua.  This is where my Grandfathers story begins.

            At age 12 my Grandfather, Braulio Miguel Caballero took a job at a local stable.  He took the job out of a deep passion for horses.  One of his duties was to tend the horses of a unit in the Mexican National Army.  When Pancho Villa’s troops took control of my Grandfathers town they told the then 15 year old Braulio that he had until sundown to get out of town.  Their justification was that he had betrayed the revolution by his caring for the horses of the Nationalies.  His eviction was under the threat of death and was taken very seriously.  America seemed like a good place to go. 

            Upon crossing the border my Grandfather attempted to make his way north by hopping trains.  Early in the trip he was pulled off of the train by a local sheriff.  The sheriff, having compassion for my Grandfathers story and situation provided room and board for a time in exchange for work around the local jail.  Eventually, my Grandfather sought to move further north.  At the time of his departure the local sheriff wired the next town and explained that there was an honest and hard working kid heading up the line.  The scenario was repeated for a period lasting seven years until my Grandfather found a home in Chicago.  Along the way my Grandfather learned some skills and more significantly, he learned English.   He became a boiler maker by trade.

            My Grandfather eventually landed in the railroad town of Oelwein, Iowa where a significant Mexican population worked under arduous conditions and lived in an environment that was extremely challenging.  The difficulties of dependence on company housing and a company store was compounded by an inability to speak English by much of the labor force.  Having established himself as a gifted and talented boilermaker my Grandfather became a champion of the rights and living conditions of those around him.  Until the day my Grandfather passed there seemed to be an endless procession of the old Mexican guard crossing his homes threshold.  Even as young children we could see in the eyes of those who came to visit that they loved and respected my Grandfather.  They loved and respected him because he gave of himself in the service of others his entire life.  All seventeen of his grandchildren would swear to this day that they had been his favorite.  You could say that his life was a revolution not entirely unlike the one he left behind in his youth. His was a life that fought battles that real chance would translate into real benefits for the people.

Expectations can be a debilitating thing.  At times, it seems, the world can be a very cold place.  Have you ever had that experience where you were proverbially kicked while you were down?  Was there ever a time where those you counted on most didn’t come through for you the way you hoped, maybe even the way you needed?  (You don’t have to call me mom.  I am not reeling from any recent depressing event.  This is just set up for my point.) Where I am going with this, is we have all been disappointed in the support of others when we needed it.  Be it problems at work, a familial emergency, an embarrassing social situation, or even watching your back when you had one two many shots of Cuervo and figured you actually could kick the bouncers butt!

Turning to another for affection or support can be like going to the hardware store for a loaf of bread.  You might expect a co-worker to admit that they are the one who caused the database to crash in the noon hour of a payroll Friday.  You might hope that your significant other would comfort you after a stressful day.  You might wish that your best friend would have told you that there was a booger in your mustache before you went into the standing-room-only hospitality suite of an industry trade show.  Somehow those we love and or depend on can seem to let us down at times when we need to be held up the most.  While our friends, family or co-workers may not always meet our expectations it is always our expectations, not our friends, family or co-workers who let us down.

Love and loyalty can be shown in many ways but the people in our lives may not be able to express that love or loyalty in the way we would like.  Just as you are comfortable in some situations and not in others so are your friends and family.  What we should do is try to recognize love and loyalty however it is offered.  If others don’t meet our expectations we need not feel abandoned.  We need to focus on the support and compassion shown by others when it was available.  We will lead more fulfilling lives if we are thankful for the past and keep ourselves living in the present.  Our own needs are important and appropriate and we need to consider ourselves deserving.   The only person who can truly understand our needs is the person who looks at us in the mirror each morning. 

  Other people may or may not be able to give us what we need at any given time and no person can ever give us “everything” we want or even what we expect.  If we are able to stop demanding that others support us in every way we imaginable we will soon learn that all the love and support we “need” is already at our fingertips!  You will never be able to change others to be all that you want them to be.  What you do have power over is the ability to change your own demanding attitudes and perceptions.

I haven’t always been a large man.  I was actually the smallest baby born to a wonderful lady I later came to know as Mom.  I never quite forgave my mom for that circumcision she ordered in my first days on this planet.  I found it so painful that I wasn’t able to walk for two years.  So it goes.

In the “Who is the Red Hog” section of this website I point out that I am not fat but rather I am just short for my weight.  Being a big guy has both advantages and disadvantages.  Why don’t I outline some examples for you?

For instance, making your way through crowded events is ironically easier for big guys.  Typically I just adopt a surly expression and walk briskly, like I am mad as hell and about to commit a crime and magically crowds seem to part right before me.  My family is especially fond of this attribute as it makes it very easy for them to exit these crowded situations by remaining in my wake.

Teeter-totters would be an example of where it is a disadvantage to be a big man.

This one time, at band camp… Oh wait, I’ve never been to band camp.  Ok, this one time, on a return trip from Sturgis, I took out a full grown deer while doing 75 mph on my Harley.  I was appropriately dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and of course, no helmet.  The ensuing collision literally cut the deer in half and did well over $11,000 damage to the Red Hog.  Amazingly, my complete list of injuries included 4 broken ribs, some road rash and a sore foot.  I think I must have bounced. 

Lawn furniture would be an obvious disadvantage for big men.

Big guys get lots of hugs.  I like to consider myself somewhat of an expert when it comes to hugging.  There is the combination of my Latin-American Heritage, which offers me comfort with demonstrations of affection and the certain harmless Teddy Bear physic which I take full advantage of.  So I collect as many hugs as I can.  I don’t do this with any inappropriate thought or feeling.  I hug because people like it.  Hell, I like hugs and judging from the smiles of those I hug, they like it too.  If you don’t hug often, you should.  There was some study done somewhere sometime which said a person should get like seven hugs a day or something like that.  If everybody got seven hugs a day I bet there would be a lot fewer assholes in the world.

Airline seats are not built with the big man in mind.  That can be a disadvantage.

One of my favorite fat-guy routines was performed by comedian Louie Andersen. Louie tells of a visit to a beach where he had the misfortune of falling asleep.  He awoke startled to find a group of people rolling him back into the water, and exclaiming, “Come on! Come on!  We can save him! We can save him!”  I have to admit that I know a guy who uses this story as his own material in opportune social situations.  That person dare not claim the material as his own in a blog lest he end up in a court of law.  I hate when that happens!

So there are advantages and disadvantages to being a big guy.  I would venture to say that most of your average built individuals might argue that point.  You know what?  I like who I am.  I have one of those T-shirts that says, “I may be fat but you are ugly and I can diet!”  I’m built for comfort, not speed and that suits me just fine.  Look me up if you need a hug.  Wang Chung today!

I am an Application and Database Manager for a large credit union in Iowa.  If you have seen the movie, Office Space, think of the guy with the red stapler.  I have worked hard to earn the position I have.  I had worked my way to the position of CEO of a small but growing credit union. Eventually, for many reasons, I decided to merge my credit union with a larger credit union.  I was able to maintain my modest salary and became a branch manager.  A couple of years of that and I had had enough.  Something about having all the same responsibility but none of the authority was unappealing.  I’m funny that way.  Finally the position opened up which I currently hold.  I was able to maintain that same modest salary.  My goal is to retire as a teller at the same modest salary.  Notice the pattern. 

Tellers are the hardest workers in a financial institution but I also believe they have the most fun.  They are the front line, where the rubber hits the road.  A good bank teller is worth ten times what I can assure you they are making.  Think about it.  Do you have a favorite teller where you do your banking?  Is that teller not the reason you keep going back to do your business where you do?  Ok, maybe it has a lot to do with location and convenience but I would bet if all the tellers were rude and inaccurate you would find another place to do your business.

Executives have duped America into believing they are of esteemed value and are responsible for the success of their respective businesses.  Get this. CEO compensation at the 350 largest public companies earned an average of $9.2 million in 2005.  Oil and gas executive compensation increased by 109 percent between the years 2003 and 2004.*  Thank you Mr. President!  In 2004 average CEO compensation exceeded wages earned by the average worker by 240 times.  In 2002 the ratio was 145 to 1.  And these executives are the same guys who got the tax cuts by the way.  The rich get richer and the poor get poorer under the current administration.  If you voted for them this would be where you might question if you were stupid. 

It has not been demonstrated that CEO performance is based on real value incentives. This creates additional problems for the working stiff.  Much of corporate executive compensation comes in the form of stock options.  The value of these options is increased if the value of the stock increases.  This results in an incentive to find ways to artificially boost stock prices through any means necessary.  Does Enron ring a bell?  As Executives strive to increase stock values they do that by reducing benefit packages for the rank and file and by encouraging job sharing and expanded responsibility for middle managers.  As the actual production element is trimmed to all time record efficiency standards the labor pool is worked harder for less money which raises stock value which raises CEO compensation.  And who determines CEO salaries?  Directors in most corporations are recruited by the CEO and then approved by the Board of Directors who received their position by recommendation of that same CEO.  The result is an oversight body which is beholding to the CEO.  The artificially valued corporations are the very investment vehicles used by that ever squeezed laborer or middle manager who has to pay more and more out of his own pocket to hope for any kind of a comfortable retirement.  When the CEO and inside stockholders have bailed out of the corporation because they were always aware the value of the corporation was excessively valued the unsophisticated investing laborer is the one who takes the hit.

The bank tellers and the production line workers of the world are most responsible for getting a product produced or delivered.  It seems to make sense to me that they are compensated appropriately for that.  As an asinine comedian I heard one time said, “Of course that is just my opinion, I could be wrong.”  Ok, he wasn’t a comedian.  It was Dennis Miller who said that.  OH! And one final point.  Credit Union’s are not for profit financial institutions which have an elected board of directors.  One of the reasons I chose this industry is because it truly is not for profit, not for charity but for service.  I wouldn’t want anybody where I work to think any of my comments reflected on them, unless, that is, the voted poorly in the last election!

* Statistics from Center for American Progress publication, Supersize This:  How CEO Pay Took Off While America’s Middle Class Struggled.  Joahn Alexander Burton and Christian E. Weller. Ph.D.

AP news reported Vice President Dick Cheney accidentally shot and wounded a companion during a weekend quail hunting trip in Texas, spraying the fellow hunter in the face and chest with shotgun pellets.  Katharine Armstrong, the ranch's owner, said Sunday that Cheney was using a 28-guage shotgun and that Whittington was about 30 yards away when he was hit in the cheek, neck and chest.  "The vice president didn't see him," she continued. "The covey flushed and the vice president picked out a bird and was following it and shot. And by god, Harry was in the line of fire and got peppered pretty good."  This incident sounds all too familiar with the nature of the man who would be king. 

On July 25^th, 2003 Vice President Cheney, in a speech at the American Enterprise Institute stated, in attempt to make a case for the war in Iraq, “Those charged with the security of this nation could not read such an assessment and pretend that it did not exist. Ignoring such information, or trying to wish it away, would be irresponsible in the extreme," Cheney said. "And our President did not ignore that information--he faced it. He sought to eliminate the threat by peaceful, diplomatic means and, when all else failed, he acted forcefully to remove the danger."  The report he cited was the October 2002 National Intelligence Estimate. The National Intelligence Estimate represents the coordinated judgments of the US Intelligence Community.  It has been of considerable discussion what exactly the Bush administration does with such information and whether they politically influence the contents of those reports to justify current administrative goals.

The recent hunting accident is not dissimilar to the chain of events that occurred which lead us to the current war in Iraq.  The shoot first-check for consequences later mentality is of the nature of ego-centric power-hungry bullies who have little comprehension of their actions and even less compassion for the consequences of those actions.

Recent news reports regarding the investigation into evidence that the outing of CIA officer Valerie Plame's identity alluded that direction to leak her name came from the top.  DemocracyNow.com reported on their website that, “Scooter Libby testified in the grand jury that he had contact with reporters in which he disclosed the content of the National Intelligence Estimate (NIE) in the course of his interaction with reporters in June and July 2003. ... We also note that it is our understanding that Mr. Libby testified that he was authorized to disclose information about the NIE to the press by his superiors.”

You don’t think that Mr. Cheney would have shot a friend to divert attention from the issues that are facing him with the investigation into the role the White House played in the disclosure of Valarie Plume’s identity do you?  It is not that the current administration is without precedent for creating diversions when their popularity begins to take a dive.  The consistent raising of the terror alert each time President Bush bottoms out in opinion polls is analogous with the story of The Boy Who Cried Wolf.  In my own mind the children’s story which best describes this administration is, The Emperor Has No Clothes.

Pull my finger!  Pull my finger is one of my all time favorite expressions when riding a crowded elevator.  You can learn a lot about people by waiting for the door to close and uttering those words.  The range of facial expressions is as varied as the people who ride the elevator.  Follow along with me as I document the sociological observations I have made from the controlled environment of a 15 passenger elevator.

 

Everybody, in their youth, had the equivalent of an “Uncle Joe” who taught them the true and often horrific consequences of complying with the request “Pull my finger.”  I believe it is a statement more about the biological functions of an individuals “Uncle Joe” than it is a reflection of a person’s character, integrity, or sophistication when you see their reaction, however, a lot can be learned about a person by documenting their reaction. 

 

There are four significant classifications that you can assign to your typical office commuter when performing this important query into the psyche of humanity:  Fun Lover, Thrill Seeker, Obsessive Indifferentist and the Anal-Retentive.

 

The Fun Lover.  These are the people for whose benefit I perform my request.  They are easy to spot.  When the fun lover hears the request to “pull my finger” they immediately respond with an emotion ranging from a smile to a belly aching guffaw.  My favorite example of this was a jovial, short of stature but large woman who found my request amusing enough that it evoked a response similar to that of which my Uncle Joe demonstrated when he introduced me to this whole scenario.  That generated a whole entirely different set of reactions that exceed the scope of this observation.

 

The Thrill Seeker.  This is the type of person that you want to advise your children to have nothing to do with.  These are the people who will immediately reach for your finger with total disregard for the lives around them.  These people are reactionary and impulsive and not to be trusted.  Not only that, it bothers me that they are unable to see that my personal integrity is of such that I would make said statement for the benefit of the humor it may evoke not to release any pressures which may cause actual discomfort in my fellow passengers.

 

The Obsessive Indifferentist.  I just feel sorry for these people.  The Obsessive Indifferentist is one who is so harried and wrapped up in their own agenda that they find neither humor nor horror in my antics.  Even a slight smile or eye roll would redeem them from the pity I feel for them.  These are the people who you should avoid at the office Christmas party and whom you should be loathe to travel with on business trips.

 

The Anal Retentive.  You have to love these people.  These are the people who will be disgusted by the thought of someone trying to have a little fun.  Dictionary.com details the anal-retentive thusly,

“Indicating personality traits, such as meticulousness, avarice, and obstinacy, originating in habits, attitudes, or values associated with infantile pleasure in retention of feces”

I have no problem with the need for the anal-retentive in society.  Was it not for they, who would be our accountants and lawyers?  The anal-retentive’s I have a problem with are those who are want to wear that description as a badge of honor.  Typically they will try to appear self effacing as they tender the description as a defense for being an ass but I don’t buy it.  An ass is an ass is an ass.  If you can’t laugh about farting then you are wasting oxygen.

 

I suggest that the next time you enter a crowded elevator you wait until the door closes and try this little ice-breaker which gives me such joy.  You will be pleased to discover that approximately seven in ten of your fellow passengers will fit into the category of Fun Lover.  That is a refreshing way to start the day.  Especially if it is a Monday.  So it goes.