The Blame Game

When I hear all the debates going on about the bailout of the automotive industry I can't help but wonder if we are sometimes missing a piece of the puzzle as to why our American manufacturers are struggling. We may be able to point our fingers at the executives making huge salaries and even bigger bonuses for letting a company be run into the ground. We may also point to the unions that have tied the hands of American industry, giving our foreign competitors an unfair advantage. The same goes for the EPA for mandating costly environmental restraints that also give our foreign competitors the edge. We may be able to point to the general managers, plant managers, supervisors, and foremen for their failure to operate their facilities efficiently and effectively. But let me state that each and every worker on those lines should look within themselves and ask if they contributed to the mess that their companies are in. What did they do to help or hinder the productivity and profitability of the company that is paying their wages and benefits? Do they come to work each day and give a respectable day's work for the pay they receive? Do they look at the big picture and realize that a company's success begins with them, that they are the front line and if they fail to do their jobs it creates a domino effect that will eventually bring the company to its knees?

In the late seventies my husband and I worked for a manufacturer, on their production line, and saw firsthand what the working class can do to a company. There were over 800 employees working three shifts seven days a week producing mostly plastic soda bottles. I would venture to guess that at least half of these employees spent a good portion of their day conspiring to avoid working. They assumed the jobs would always be there and it didn't matter. They would only work at the slowest pace necessary to meet minimum production goals. In their minds, if they were able to produce more and did so regularly, that would become the new standard and then they couldn't slack off when they wanted to. I saw people come to work high on drugs or under the influence of alcohol. These were the people who operated machinery capable of killing their coworkers. Others thought it was perfectly acceptable to steal from the company that put food on their tables and clothes on their backs. Tools, supplies, plastic resin, anything they thought they could use outside the plant would somehow slip away, past the security gate and into their cars. Didn't matter, the "company" had deep pockets, right? I saw them trash the break rooms that were provided for them, it was someone else's problem to clean it up. I saw them cheat on the maintenance reports, documenting work that was never done on the machinery. So what if the equipment failed and the lines were shut down. They thought it was great to get an extra break, it didn't matter if the company missed a production deadline. Why should they worry about it? Why? Let me tell you why. That company I worked for was losing money and losing contracts for failure to deliver on time. They had to lay off most of their employees and cut benefits to those who remained. The union couldn't really save those people then because it was either take that or shut the doors permanently. With a 9% unemployment rate in the small town there were no other jobs to go to. Who was crying then? The company is still in business today, but with a workforce of only about 100 people.

I see this same attitude everywhere I go. Employees on their cell phones, on company computers for personal use, stealing what is not theirs to take, bitching and moaning that they are overworked and underpaid and they just aren't going to exert themselves any more than necessary. This self-serving attitude is putting our economy in the toilet. So don't just point the finger of blame at someone else, look in the mirror and see if the blame also lies within.

Silver Spoon

Today was one of those days when I wished I could just crawl back into bed and sleep away the day, hoping for a better tomorrow. From the moment I walked in the door at work until I walked back out it was hell. Crappy patients, crappy policies, crappy attitudes. I have such a low tolerance level for stupidity these days. Just once I want to be able to look a patient in the eye and tell him/her exactly what I think. The same goes for my employees, who seem to think that they can come to work and spend the day on the computer or their cell phones with no consequence. Don't even get me started about the service excellence team who thinks that we should be able to smile our way through the day while doing the juggling act of getting everything done in a timely manner. God forbid if someone complains that they weren't treated like a princess or they had to wait , gasp, forty-five minutes to see a doctor. "OMG! I know Mr. Bigwig so-and-so and you must kiss my f...ing ass or I will go whining like a bratty teenager and then you will be sorry and I don't care that that patient you took ahead of me was having a heart attack. I am more important. See my silver spoon stuck up my ass?" As I forced myself to be pleasant I was fighting the urge to just get up and walk out and not look back. I worked in the ghetto for seventeen years and I dealt with so much crap in that job but in retrospect I have found that I would much rather be working down there in the trenches. Where the patients at least appreciated the fact that the doctors and staff were willing to provide care to them no matter how long they had to wait to be seen, in a neighborhood where the druggies and alcoholics, the criminals and the insane were wandering the streets. I am not and have never been a kiss-ass kind of person. That is not to say that I don't understand the importance of good customer service. It's just that sometimes the customer is not always right. I now work in an affluent area of the city and it is far worse than the ghetto. By stroking egos and bribing our way out of customer dissatisfaction with freebies and gift cards, false apologies and compliments, we have created an environment where we are sure to fail in our efforts to please everyone. What these people really need is to be told to shut up, sit down, wait their turn like everyone else, and to quit acting like spoiled brats. Money sure doesn't buy them manners. At least when I left the office this evening I was able to reconcile some of the bad behavior of these patients today because hanging low in the dark night sky was a giant yellow full moon. The crazies were out in full force! They were just better dressed than the crazies in the ghetto.

To Tree or Not to Tree

This is the time of year that drives my husband absolutely looney with my indecision. The season tends to render me helpless to my emotions. I often wish I could skip the whole thing and pretend it just doesn't matter. But of course it does so I am better at flip-flops than a politician. I am not going to put up the tree this year, oh, but maybe I will just put up a tabletop tree. No, no tree at all. I can't deal with the hassle of dragging out all the boxes and putting on those irritatingly difficult lights. Oh, but I love the glow of the lights in the quiet hours of the night when everyone else is sleeping. No, I can't do it. It's settled. I am going shopping instead. Wait, you say there was a weather alert about the slick roads? Maybe I better just stay home. If I am home I may as well drag out the tree. No, maybe I'll have some cheesecake and think about it for a while. Ahh, that helped. Okay now what do I do? I have some of the other decorations out and that should suffice, shouldn't it? But what if I wait until Christmas and then decide I should've put up the tree after all? Oh shit, I may as well see if the lights are working. Now which box are the lights in? Oh crap, I forgot, I got lazy last year and just threw all the lights in a tangled mess into a gym bag. It's okay, I am a rational adult. It won't kill me to stand here and untangle these without throwing a fit. Careful not to tear the bulbs out of the sockets there Sparky! Whew, I need to rest after all that. Maybe a drink will help. Honey, where is the rum for the eggnog? No more rum? Whiskey it is then. Okay, I'm ready now. Plug this strand in to make sure it works. Wow, it works, kinda. Maybe twenty bulbs in the strand need to be replaced. I'll bet the bulbs from the thick outdoor strands will fit. Here goes. Yeah, they almost fit perfectly. Okay, I have twelve strands of lights plugged in and they all work. But didn't one of those strands have a short? Seems like I lost light to half the tree last year. Leave them plugged in to warm up before I use any of them. I have to shape the tree branches anyway. Look, the instructions in the box show how to attach the lights so it will be pre-lit for next year. Let me sit down and read this. Honey, will you fix me another drink? Okay, now for these lights. It says to zigzag and wrap, then pull straight back...what the hell? How am I supposed to do that with this big wad of lights? Oh, forget it. I will get a prelit tree next year. Let me just get these damn lights wrapped around the tree so I can get this done before midnight. I hate Christmas! Why didn't I just go shopping? Shut up, you don't have a right to comment because you are not helping me. If you think it is so funny you get up and do it. That's what I thought. You better find some Christmas music to get me in a better mood, quickly. Okay, I'll settle for that Carol King concert on PBS. Thanks. That's better, it's moving along now. I'm almost finished with the lights. Now where are the hangers for the ornaments? You can't find them? I know I bought some last year? Are you sure you looked in all the boxes? Okay, go get me some paper clips. I am going to get this done tonight! Can you turn off those lamps so I can see how this looks. Is it evenly lit? Are the ornaments spaced out right? Do you see any bare spots? No, I am not obsessed. Just shut up and have a Merry Christmas.

Donation Location

Before you do your online holiday shopping consider this: if you go to Goodshop.com you can shop online and the site will make a donation (sometimes as much as 30% of your purchases) to the charity of your choice. It doesn't cost you anything more. It is a painless way to do something good. The donations come out of the profits generated by the site from the advertisers.

Now they have expanded the concept to include a penny every time you use their search engine, Goodsearch.com. You choose the charity. I think everyone should get on board. It's a win-win and so easy.

In the same vein, I wanted to mention the secret charity exchange idea that I came up with last year. When your family gathers for the holidays this year, why not draw names for a gift exchange? Here is how it works: each person entering the exchange writes down his/her name, his/her choice of a charitable organization, and a weblink or phone number for that charity. Then everyone draws a name. Over the next year you will do something for the charity of the person whose name you drew. It can be as simple as a monetary donation or participating in an event. You can do as much as your time/wallet allows. You can be creative in your fundraising efforts, especially if the charity chosen is not in the area you live. When your family gathers for the holidays next year you will each reveal whose name you drew, what the charity was and what you did to help. You can also tell what you learned about the charity and the work they do. You might want to develop a few key questions for everyone to ask of the charities they are working for, such as what is the main focus of the charity, what percent of the donations go directly to services or research, etc. The result of this exchange is that you have a year to do something to honor the person whose name you chose, you learn something about the charity you worked for, and perhaps you will gain some insight into what is important to the person you chose, all while keeping the true spirit of the season.

Happy Holidays!

Memory Box

While on the subject of Christmas I wanted to list just a few memorable moments from past years:

The first Christmas for each of my children, when I wanted so much for them to rip into the packages but they would inevitably just tear off a small piece of wrapping paper and instantly put it into their mouths. That was enough for them because that's what babies do - eat!

The Christmas when my oldest nephew was just a toddler. He opened a large box that had a rather small gift tucked inside. The gift dropped out of the box unnoticed by him. He held up both his little arms and proclaimed "It's nothing!"

The Christmas gathering when all the cousins did a homespun version of the birth of Jesus. Because we had so many more girls than boys in the family, my eight-year-old niece had to be Joseph, while my six-year-old daughter got to be Mary. Unbeknownst to the adults, my niece's psyche was scarred for having to be a boy. She finally got over it...we think.

The year my oldest daughter snuck into her gifts by carefully slicing the tape, unwrapping, peeking, then rewrapping, taping precisely over the original tape. I would never have noticed if she hadn't needed something green to wear in a school music production. I knew I had wrapped up a green sweater for her. When I realized how she had cleverly peeked I opened all her gifts and replaced them with bath towels. Then I retaped just as she had and waited. On Christmas morning she opened a pile of bath towels, just what every young teenager needs. She knew she had been found out and the joke was on her. We did finally give her the original gifts that day, but only after all the other gifts had been opened.

The first Christmas after my youngest daughter died was a very difficult season. But she had had so much fun helping me to write The Family Inquirer over the long summer months when she was confined by illness. It was a family tattletale newspaper with funny articles based on the stupid stunts that all my siblings, parents, and grandmother had done throughout the year. I thank them for being able to laugh at themselves and for giving her some great laughs in her final months. I dedicated the publication to her memory and her love of a good joke.

The year my husband's family all came for Christmas at our farm home. I made up clues to guide my father-in-law on a treasure hunt through our big house to find his gift - the canoe he had been talking about for years but hadn't gotten around to buying for himself. He cried.

The little handmade Christmas tree made of clay by my middle child when she was in first grade was a favorite decoration of mine. I remember her little face lit up with excitement as she watched me unwrap it. She was so proud of it. I set it out for many years until it finally crumbled after getting damp.

After stringing the lights on our tree, my daughters would hang the ornaments. There were some handmade ornaments with their pictures in them. Each would try to hide her own picture at the back of the tree. Every few days it would reappear at the very front as they secretly shuffled each other's around.

Getting up very early while it was still dark outside to light the tree and all the candles, then waking my husband and daughters. We would have coffee and hot chocolate while opening the gifts in the soft glow with Christmas carols playing on the stereo. The best gift my husband gave me was his understanding that giving to our children meant more to me than anything he could buy for me.

The year my mother was pulling out gifts from under her tree, stood up and tripped, falling and injuring her wrist. She continued on with the celebration, ignoring the pain. She went to see a doctor the next day. She actually had a fracture.

My mother loved Christmas and decorating her house was an all day affair. My little sister and I helped her with this every year. I would drive up on a Saturday morning and we would begin the process of decking the halls so to speak. It was a wonderful day spent together, laughing and talking. We usually worked well into the night and then we would sit and enjoy the glow of all the lights. In mid-January we would spend another weekend together taking the decorations down and packing them away . It never felt like work. It was fun to be together for the purpose of making my mother happy. I am very glad for all the memories those weekends provided.

Rising at 3:00am to have Christmas via webcam with our daughters, our son-in-law, and our grandchildren. Getting to be a part of their annual tradition in spite of the distance is priceless.

Feel free to share some of yours in the comments.

Tradition Transitions - Part III

Over the past three years it has become much harder for everyone to coordinate their schedules to get together for our traditional weekend before Christmas party. All of our children are spread out from the east coast to the west, from the north to the south. My younger daughter lives in London with her husband and two children. My oldest daughter lives in Chicago. I have nieces and nephews in California, South Carolina, Colorado, New Mexico, and Texas. Many of them are married and have children of their own now and it has become difficult for them to schedule visits for both sides of their families and establish their own traditions for their children. It is very expensive to fly during the holidays and weather is also a factor. Because of this, we have contemplated dropping our big gathering to allow everyone to concentrate on their own families and reduce the stress of the season. We are going to try to start a new tradition of gathering in the summertime instead. It is sad to let go of this part of our lives but change is necessary. Over the holidays I hope to get together with a couple of my sisters and start planning for a big summer reunion. In the meantime, I am hoping all of them will get webcams for Christmas so we can all stay in touch in a very visual way. Happy Thanksgiving and Merry Christmas to all!

Tradition Transition - Part II

For many years our Christmas tradition remained pretty much the same. The magic of Santa faded but was replaced by our joy in being together as a family. We still congregated at my parents' and my grandmother's home to celebrate on Christmas Eve. We began going to Midnight Mass together so we could sleep in on Christmas morning. As we grew up and moved away to begin our adult lives the focus shifted naturally to our own young children as they lived out the same traditions. We enjoyed watching all the cousins gather for their special night of magic and fun in our parents' and grandmother's homes. The adults simply enjoyed being together and catching up with each other while eating our way through the traditional foods we had come to love and expect at the holiday season. It was a very crowded and very noisy affair but we loved it because we loved each other. Those who could spent the night at my parents' house, letting our children play together until they could no longer stay awake. We were glad for the chance to let them bond and make that connection that we hoped would keep them close throughout their lives, to have some of the same memories of youth.

When my oldest sister and her family moved back from Louisiana to Louisville, KY we altered our traditions. It had been getting harder and harder for everyone to juggle their schedules to gather on Christmas Eve. So she offered to have our large family gatherings the weekend before Christmas in her large home. There was plenty of room for the kids to play and a place to sleep, if we so chose, for everyone. We would begin arriving in the late afternoon for what evolved into a wonderful, if somewhat wacky, event. Everyone brought food and drink and a gift for the little ones. With tables laden with snacks and a well-stocked bar the party began as soon as each family arrived. There was room to mingle and catch up with each other and we all pitched in with the last-minute preparations. Once everyone was there we would proceed to the basement to open gifts. With sometimes as many as fifteen little ones and fifteen to twenty adults it was organized chaos. My mother kept it all moving with my grandmother's help. We were along for the wonderful ride. Just as in my youth, packages were passed out a few at a time so we could all see the gifts being opened. Little fingers tore into the paper to reveal the surprises inside. There were squeals of delight as each gift was held aloft in admiration. After the last gift was opened we would settle the kids with plates of food around the tables set up in the basement. When they finished eating they were free to play to their hearts' content. My sister's wonderful housekeeper would keep them all corralled in the basement while the adults retreated upstairs to the dining room for a fabulous sit-down dinner. That is when the real party began for us.
Our tradition had moved away from buying gifts for each adult because there were just too many of us. But that did not mean you got nothing. There was always a small gift for each of us from my grandmother, my parents, and a close family friend who always celebrated with us. We, in turn, had gifts for each of them. But we did not exchange gifts with each sibling and their spouses. For a while we exchanged a man and woman's gift from each family. Then I think it changed to just one universal gift for each couple. Eventually, a rather unusual tradition developed. It started out the year that my older brother became seriously ill with Crohn's disease and was hospitalized unexpectedly. He was in need of a bathrobe so my oldest sister brought in the one she had bought and hidden as a Christmas gift for her husband. When my brother-in-law stopped by the hospital to visit my brother and saw him in the robe he let it slip that he had a robe just like that. So my sister knew he had peeked at his gifts hidden in her closet. At our Christmas gathering my mother gave my brother-in-law a gag gift - a wrapped box with a toggle switch on the side to turn on the light attached inside and a peepsight like the ones found on hotel doors built into the top of the package. He could turn on the light and look inside the package without unwrapping it to sneak a peak at the gift inside. Of course, the gift was a bundle of switches. And so it began, our wild Christmas gag gift tradition. Whatever stupid thing you did throughout the year was liable to be used against you in the form of some crazy gift. Of course, once the gift was opened the receiver would have to tell the story behind it. We would roar with laughter at the clever gifts and the meanings behind them. It was all in good fun, never meant to be hurtful, and we were able to laugh at ourselves. No adult member of the family was exempt from this tradition. As the little ones grew up they began to look forward to the year they would be joining the adults upstairs for what seemed to them a glorious, raucous good time.

After dinner and gag gifts were over, everyone, including the kids, were free to mingle wherever they chose, playing poker, Scrabble, Pictionary, air hockey, pinball, watching movies, or just sitting and talking. We could sit up all night enjoying each other's company. Eventually the men and the kids would tire out in the wee hours of the morning. But the women would persevere. We would sit up all night laughing and chatting, playing Scrabble (or what we dubbed as Babble as we became slap-happy). For many years, the men would awake the next morning to find us still sitting around that Scrabble board. One look would set us off into fits of laughter. If a sibling was unable to make it home for the big event he/she could count on at least one phone call from all of us throughout the night. Somehow I doubt that he/she found those calls as humorous as we did. You know the saying, "You just had to be there!" But we didn't want anyone to be left out of the fun.

As our children grew into adults and began to consider marriage, the big test for the prospective spouse was to make it through family Christmas. If they stuck around after meeting all of us and being subjected to our crazy antics we determined them to be keepers. And for the most part, this has held true. Families that can laugh together and not take themselves too seriously tend to stay together and help each other through all the tough times that are inevitable. Knowing that no matter the distance, the struggles, or the angry words that naturally occur in every family, we never hold a grudge and always welcome with open arms every single member of our family. And that is the spirit of our Christmas.