The Trump and CMI

Corporately Modified Information.

That’s what CMI stands for when I write about it.  And it’s very clear that the media owners modify what we digest on a daily basis.  I’ve explained as similar to GMO, but for the brain.  They change the makeup of what we take in and we accept it as okay.

Was it okay for the cast of Hamilton to talk to the Vice President elect after the show when he went to see Hamilton the other day?

That’s what we are talking about.  That dominated the cycle over the weekend.

Good shit.  So powerful and hard hitting.

Was it an acceptable thing for them to do?

Let’s take the rules the Republicans (and Democrats) have made up that corporations are people.  That businesses have a say.  Maybe the ruling is that the only First Amendment rights that corporations have are by spreading their wealth to those they want to return favors to their corporations.  But the First Amendment is about speech, so when a group of people have a platform to get their message across, I guess they should use it.

Only the Koch Brothers get to benefit?

Donald Trump didn’t become the President elect because he is a genius.  He won the position because he is a reality star and played the media perfectly.  Maybe you think that makes him genius.

If Donald Trump gets to use his fame to send a message, so should the cast of Hamilton.

We can all be pretty guaranteed that Mike Pence did not listen, did not care, and will continue to try and make laws that humiliate the middle and lower classes.  Like Geico, it’s what he does.

But the media covering it is what bothers me.  Social media created the buzz on the little speech.  They started the speech by asking people to get out their cameras and spread their message on social media.

Not corporate media.

Please stop calling it mainstream media.  It’s corporate.  They prop and sell what they want.

Donald Trump tweets that Saturday Night Live is horrible and unfair.  That Hamilton is overrated.  The media discusses this.

George W. Bush spent the last several months of his presidency trying to change his legacy.  He discussed it often.  His legacy is the greatest attack on American soil, two wars, corporate handouts, The Patriot Act which allowed for the invasion of privacy, and a failed economy which crashed right before he left office forcing him to give more corporate handouts.  No talking in the world is going to change that.  And no amount of skewing the media coverage is going to change it.

Bill Clinton’s legacy will be Monica Lewinksi, The Crime Act, NAFTA, and a strong economy which had an expiration date.

What will Obama’s legacy be?

The Affordable Care Act.  Given.  And Trump has promised to repeal it, so it may not last as his legacy.

Deporting 2.5 million undocumented Mexicans?  Quietly as the media looked away.  I mean, Trump wants to deport 3 million.  Seems an easy exercise.

How about the Dakota Access Pipeline?  May be Obama’s legacy.  As they turned water cannons, tear gas, and rubber bullets toward the peaceful protesters last night in below freezing temperatures, we truly saw the power of a bank and oil industry merge in America.

The coverage has been awful, and the only people who would not only allow this to happen, but also make the orders, would be those without a single bit of conscience.  That might be part of Obama’s legacy.

The media sits idly by and discusses Mitt Romney as he meets with Donald Trump.  Rudy Giuliani.  Chris Christie.  And what is Tulsi Gabbard doing meeting with Donald Trump?

Trump parades these people across the cameras unlike any other incoming President in history.  Tweeting that only he knows who the finalists are.  He sees his entire election and campaign as one big reality television show and we are eating it up.

I watched this morning hoping to hear something of significance on the hundreds who were injured last night unnecessarily.  Those who support the Dakota Access Pipeline may have also supported the Bundy standoff over the government taking their land.  Seems senseless.

But look, Trump just made another tweet about Hamilton.  Let’s talk about that.

Trump has spent 17 months dominating the news cycle and consistently coming up with trivial shit to get people to talk about him.

And now he continues to throw little media grenades which will get the press going in the direction he wants while he creates a white supremacist cabinet.

Hillary Clinton had no message.  She had no plan.  She borrowed nothing from her very popular populist opponent from the primary.  She paid for the media and thought that was enough.  She spent her time attacking Trump instead of trying to build a message that resonated.  You may disagree, but she never discussed the economy or minimum wage or bringing jobs back.  Never.  She simply argued that Trump was unfit.

The media worries that Trump avoiding them is the demise of their ability to truly cover his presidency.  And it may be.  He has not given a press conference.  He has not given a direction.  He just parades people through his property like it’s a pageant.  Shakes hands, takes pictures, and that’s all he’s giving us.

The media needs to own this.

Journalists they are not.

Selective reporters they are.

Every single time Trump throws out another distraction, they bite.  They go for it.  Because it’s what sells commercial time.

I actually think that Jake Tapper doesn’t suck, but all those Koch Industry commercials which air between him talking are discouraging.

There is no question that the media owes this country a huge apology.  Let me provide that last statement Trump style.

Media let the country down.  Played like a fiddle.  Trump is not a suitable president.  Apologize!

I want to finish this.

The media is doing everything wrong.  They are not protecting the First Amendment.  They are cowering to it.  They are reporting on what Citizen’s United has granted them to report on.  And that’s the flaw.  Money will always step on freedom of speech if you allow it.

And we’ve allowed it.  In spades.

There are news stories which should be simply dominating the headlines right now, but they aren’t.  It’s surreal.

And we asked for it.

Don’t squeeze the Charmin.


Jack Russell, the Leash, and the Hand That Holds It

Today I had to go online and buy another leash for my dog.

I bought the last leash a week ago.  I was determined to make this one last.  It seemed like it would.  I went to take Robbie out for a walk.  It’s my day off and I enjoy getting him out of the house.  So I got dressed and he got excited.

I put his new leash on him and we went out to the garage where I put on my socks and shoes.  In the few minutes I spent putting on my shoes and reading my twitter feed, he went to work.

We started walking and within ten minutes, the frayed part of the leash broke and he was running free.

I know I can’t allow him time to gnaw on the leash.  I know this.

It’s my fault.  I know what he’s going to do.

We’ve been through a few of leashes.  Each time I get a different one hoping it will work out.  It’s not the leash.  It’s not the dog.  It’s me allowing him to gnaw on the leash.

We’ve had around a week to think about what happened in the election last week.  There may be what seems like a slight nationwide hangover regarding what happened.

Clinton blamed Comey’s announcement as the reason she lost.

Many supporters blamed Jill Stein and the tiny percentage of votes she took.  Wouldn’t have changed much of the map.  Wouldn’t have allowed Clinton the victory.

Clinton surrogate Rachel Maddow suggested that it was all the third party candidates.  She outlined exactly how many votes were needed from Stein and Johnson in different states in order to win.

So many people tried to blame the Russians.  Some tried to blame wikileaks.  Some tried to blame social networking.

Of course there is the flip side of the argument in which progressives argue that had the DNC actually engaged the their people and allowed for democracy to happen, then party would have been going in the direction they wanted and their hand would not have been forced.  Maybe Sanders would have won.

Honestly, and I’ve been writing about this for months, Clinton was so unlikable and she was viewed as part of the problem.  She lost because she is Clinton and nearly 48% of the population stayed home instead of voting for either her or Trump.

The fact is that it’s been 32 years since the last time we voted an entertainer into the Presidential office.  It’s been 36 years since Reagan was originally voted in.  Reagan was a game changer in the thinking of this country. He started much of the trickle down economy that has never really gone away.  He started deregulation and that has only increased since Reagan left office.  Bill Clinton continued this way of thinking.  W increased it.  Obama has maintained it.

Entertainers shouldn’t get involved in politics.  I’m watching you, Clooney.

I started this by talking about my dog.  How he keeps tearing up his leashes.  Who is to blame when it snaps?

My dog is part Jack Russell.  I know what this brings.

So let’s think of it in these terms.

The American population may very well be the Jack Russell in my metaphor.  We need to be entertained.  We have a short attention span.  Often we will do things that are bad for us.  We will run in the wrong direction.  We will engage in activities that are bad.

Pet Rock.
The Apprentice.

Think of the leash as the legislation.  The leash is the laws that keep us from running off and engaging in activities which are bad for us.  Every Jack Russell should not be set free.  They need a leash even if they think they will be okay without one.  They at least need a high fence.

But if we aren’t careful and allow the laws to sit there next to our Jack Russell teeth, we will try to break it apart.


And then there is the government.  The government is the hand which holds the leash.  It provides the leash.  It may even throw us a ball.  It may provide us with a longer leash sometimes and a shorter one others.  It may hold the population tightly or loosely.

Will the government allow us a long walk and exercise?  Or will it only take us out to urinate and drop a Cruz?

Sometimes I take Robbie out.  Sometimes my wife does.  Occasionally one of my kids will.  Here’s what I know, he needs exercise and walks and interaction.  Any good government should allow for that.  And my Jack Russell tells me that he needs it.

Let’s bottom line this.  For 36 years the population has seen the leashes of the Jack Russell get shorter and limitations placed.  Less exercise and more pet rocks.  More dogs are in the pound than ever before.  We see the big corporate dogs get completely unleashed.  Regardless of who is holding the leash, this has been the constant.

It’s the economy.

There’s a freedom that the population asks for.  And every two years we get to ask for a new hand to hold us and direct us.

I need to finish this metaphor.  I need to finish this whole thing.  I’ve had time to think about why what happened happened.

This Jack Russell has been chewing through the leash for years now.  They’ve been looking for a different direction.  They’ve seen the corporate German Shepherds at the bigger dog park roam free.  The smaller Jack Russells have been sent to dogfights they have no interest in.

When my dog wants to go in a certain direction, he pulls and tugs.  If I don’t want to go that direction he won’t be happy.  I can’t let him go anywhere he wants every single time, but the population I’m collectively calling a Jack Russell has been pulling and tugging for years now.  Sometimes I can convince my dog to go in a different direction if I offer him treats or speak in a certain tone.  Not every time.  The Jack Russell is tired of being moved right regardless of who is holding the leash.

America chewed through the leash again.  With Obama’s help, it seemed as if Clinton had a firm group on the leash that controlled America, but Clinton was left holding on to the limp end of the leash.

Clinton helped make the leash that was gnawed through.  She can blame everybody else in the world, but this Jack Russell was collectively tired and they tried to tell her so six months ago.  A firmer grip and patchwork reinforcements on to the leash was the wrong answer.

And she can blame everybody else in the world, but the fact is that nobody wanted her holding the leash anymore.  She needs to look in the mirror.  She needs to know this was her own doing.  She needs to know that when the Jack Russell wants to go a certain direction, you probably should have at least entertained it.

Because once something gets in a Jack Russell’s head, that dog is going to be even more determined to go if you hold the leash tighter.

For now, my fellow collective Jack Russell, stand tall.  Keep firm.  And don’t give in.  The new leash is already starting to fray.  Don’t go backwards.

Stand Tall Jack Russell

Think Words Through

I need to shift gears.  I just do.

So much behind us and so much to speculate.

I may be writing this because Trump’s son looked so uncomfortable on stage the other day, but I’m really trying to shift gears.

My general work week is Tuesday through Saturday.

We are in the busy part of the season.

Did you know there’s a corporate holiday coming which has been pretty much designed in order to give corporations a boost in revenue before the year ends.  It’s the season of giving and you buy into it every single time.  Giving straight to the corporations.

Anyway, that’s why we are entering the busy season.  And when it’s busy, my Saturdays see different people working in the office each week.  It’s probably good for them as they try to earn a little extra for the season of giving.

One woman in the office works the exact same schedule as I do.  She has gotten to know me pretty well and has told me she enjoys working with me.  But the second worker in the office cycles.  So today a woman who has never taken in a Saturday worked with the normal one.

And the normal woman said to the one working a rare Saturday, have you met B before?  This is a different B than the one who works Monday through Friday.

This fact was acknowledged by the new Saturday worker.

I’m definitely lighter on a Saturday than any other day of the week.  My boss doesn’t come in.  I work a shorter shift.  I get to be myself.

Conversations are had throughout the day.  And here’s where I get to why I’m writing today, and this is something I’ve thought about often over the years.

The woman who generally does not work Saturday was talking about a friend of her eight year old son.  She was talking about how he is not raised by his parents and on and on.  She got defensive of her son in this moment.  She said that it makes her sad this young boy has had a tough life.  She said other things.

She showed nothing but compassion for the struggles of her son’s friend.  She showed nothing but anger at the way he has been raised.  She showed nothing but disappointment at this kid’s parents being absent.

And the song by Doug (stylized dUg) Pinnick is in my head.

Standing in a doorway stood a little red headed boy
His momma said you have to go, I’ll come back and get you when I can
I can just imagine how he screamed and how he bled

The things that people say to you and things you don’t forget

So we keep pushing forward
If we slow down we’ll get swallowed
We never hold back
It’s only good for a heart attack

So we hide in the shadow of the sun
The moon, the stars, believin’ in love
It’s only good for a heart attack

If you haven’t listened to any of Pinnick’s music over the years, you should.  He’s a bassist and a vocalist.  Great bass line on this song and his vocals are still good even though he’s an aging rocker in his 60’s.

I’m not writing this to promote one of my favorite singers.

I’m writing this because I was once young.  I’m writing this because I know words stay with a young person forever.  They just do.

One of the stories that represents this is when I was probably eight or so.  Much of the family was staying with my grandparents at a small coastal town.  My aunt and uncle and cousin asked me if I wanted to ride to the beach with them.  I did.

My uncle and cousin ran into this small convenience store in town to get some snacks or beer or whatever.  I don’t even remember why they left the car.  The car was a Jimmy.

I proceeded to be a child.  Children talk.  They get excited.  They say things.

And the only detail I remember was my aunt sitting in the front passenger seat as we waited for whatever purchases were made.

She said, “Jesus, will he ever shutup?”

The things that people say to you and things you can’t forget.

I did stop talking.  Immediately.

This is just one example of words that were said as I was a child.  Words that change attitudes.

Worse are promises from people that were never kept.

I’ve been conscientious of this as I raised my kids.  I’ve been preemptive.  I’ve warned them that I probably have said things they’ll hold against me or that have messed them up.  I’ve apologized.

But I’ve tried to think through my words carefully.

The point?

Children don’t forget.  I promise you.  They hang on every word.  Choose them carefully.

Because we only get one life.

Why I get so frustrated that corporations and politicians have created a situation in which we need two incomes in order to survive this world.  Leaving children to be raised by those who may not really care.

Children will remember every single moment we are not there for them.

Remember every single harsh word.

What the human brain does.  Collects these moments in a storage area in order to define who we are even further by pulling them out when inconvenient.

Bottom line.

Think before you speak to children.

Take advantage of the moments you have with them.

Be responsible.

They will remember.

Every little bit.


Time and Reaction

I got sick Monday.

My kids had it prior.  Hit me hard and I was unable to go to work on Tuesday.

All of the family’s ballots were in by Election Day.  I love the tweets I read that said things like.

My 18 year old daughter voted for the first time and I’m so proud she got to vote for the first woman President!

I saw these tweets often.

I felt like tweeting the following, but I held it for here.

My children voted in their first General Election and I’m so proud that I have no fucking idea who they voted for.  It’s a personal decision.

If I pestered my children to find out who they voted for, then I’m really just imposing my will upon them.  They may have voted for Trump for all I know.  Or Gary Johnson.  Or, even worse, wrote in Ted Cruz.

I’m not going to ask.

There is the classic photo of Donald Trump looking over Melania’s shoulder to see who she voted for.  Funny.


Control freak?

Anyway.  I was sick.  I mean, really sick.

I fell asleep around 6:00 pm local time.  So many states left to decide.  I was surprised at how close many of the states were.  And which ones Trump won early.

I woke around a quarter to midnight.  Mind going, I pick up my phone and look quickly.  I said to my wife, “That orange fucker did it.”

Very little energy yesterday.

Today I was a little better.  Moving quicker.  Less tired.  Less weak.

Many of the people I work with are Mexican.  They are the delivery drivers.  I have no issue with this.

There is one white guy.  They call him “El Gringo” and he is absolutely the worst driver that delivers.  He is always late.  He is always missing appointments.  He always has an excuse.

Phone died, alarm didn’t work, flat tire, car won’t start, on and on and on.

So the election results are in.

My boss sends out an email.  Do not talk about politics at work.

Talk about a control freak.

But I have a problem with backing down from a conversation.

I do well yesterday.

And then today.  One of the Mexican drivers says this to me, and this is the entire point of my blog post today.

Now that the new President is Donald because of your vote, I guess we’re all going to have to go back to Mexico.  Then what are you going to do?

I tell him we will have a full group of delivery drivers like “El Gringo” and deal with it.  All deliveries will be late.

He laughs.  Looks over my shoulder at one of my workers and says, “You can go to Mexico with us.”

He’s talking to my lead.

I reply, he can, but not me?

He says, you can go, but not your boss.

Nobody likes my boss.

Suddenly there’s an irony in this whole thing.  As if, these people think they’ll just go back to Mexico and build a wall.

As if, go ahead and kick us out.  Good luck.

Not that anybody wants their lives turned upside down.  Not that anybody wants to fear for deportation.  Nobody wants that.

People come to America to make their lives better.  They look for that bit of hope.

But fear and hatred is not better.  If that is what they see as future, it’s not better.

I read that in the week prior to the election, Americans looking for jobs in Canada increased by 58%.  I haven’t seen the numbers since.  Remember, that week before everybody assumed Clinton would win and they were still trying to leave.

There’s a lot to digest.

It’ll take time.

Good luck America.

So I Voted

Today is a day off.

So I voted.

I think that Election Day should be a paid holiday every single time.  Especially for the General Election.  Leap Year.  It’s only fair.  Why make it so damn difficult?

I think that people should be registered to vote as soon as they turn 18.  No questions.  No reason to make people go through hoops in order to vote.

Hoops is not conducive to Democracy.

One cannot pretend to be Democratic and purge the vote.

Because voting laws are undemocratic.  Even if one is a felon, they should still get a vote.

I guess that was the point of the Crime Bill.  To leverage the vote toward the affluent and complacent.

The sun came out this morning.  I can’t remember when because the time changed on me.  Because we have strange rules on time as well.


This state does not encourage voting in person.  They don’t want to staff for it.  But I have this strange suspicion that votes by mail are not counted.  Because winners are always announced day of.  I’ve never heard anybody say, we’ll have to wait until all votes are counted to determine the winner.


Because it’s sunday, it’s a religious day for many of the people.  Especially where I live.

So I plugged those earbuds deep into my ear holes and took the dog for a walk.  He helped me vote.

I heard the songs that I wanted to hear.

Who are you to wave your finger?
You must have been outta your head.
Eye hole deep in muddy waters.
You practically raised the dead.

Rob the grave to snow the cradle.
Then burn the evidence down.
Soapbox, house of cards and glass,
So don’t go tossin’ your stones around.

You must have been high.
You must have been high.
You must have been.

Foot in mouth and head up ass.
So whatcha talkin’ ’bout?
Difficult to dance ’round this one
‘Til you pull it out, boy!

You must have been so high.
You must have been so high.

Steal, borrow, refer, save your shady inference.
Kangaroo done hung the juror with the innocent.

Now you’re weeping shades of cozened indigo
Got lemon juice up in your eye!
When you pissed all over my black kettle
You must have been high, high

I don’t even know where to start, but this is definitely the song for this election cycle.

That song moved into Rage Against the Machine.  Guerilla Radio.

Transmission third world war third round
A decade of the weapon of sound above ground
No shelter if you’re lookin’ for shade
I lick shots at the brutal charade
As the polls close like a casket
On truth devoured
A Silent play in the shadow of power
A spectacle monopolized
The camera’s eyes on choice disguised
Was it cast for the mass who burn and toil?
Or for the vultures who thirst for blood and oil?
Yes a spectacle monopolized
They hold the reins and stole your eyes
Or the fistagons
The bullets and bombs
Who stuff the banks
Who staff the party ranks
More for Gore or the son of a drug lord
None of the above fuck it cut the cord

I’ve changed the words in my head.  I’m not sure which I prefer.

More for war or the son of a slumlord.


More for banks or the son of a slumlord

Both work.

That ballot up there.  It was an attempt to cut the cord.

And since I had Robbie, I decided to take him for a walk.  Turning the corner from the drop box in front of the police station toward the trail, the view was great.


So it goes.

The sun was coming out from behind the clearing clouds.  The temperatures are warm considering it is November.

And we walked.  I miss my walks.

Songs travelling from my ear buds into my brain.

I could quote Snooze Button by Snot.

More Rage Against the Machine.

System of a Down.

Greg Palast recently released a movie version of his book Best Democracy Money Can Buy.  Go to to watch it for free until the election is over.

And as we got close to the river, Slip Away by Mad Season played.

Born of the water
Born of the flame
This life is a monster
Don’t you know it’s name
The house it is wooden
The house it is stone
The proud broken hearted
And close to the bone
Once you had a nightmare
And then it came to pass
Crazy sky in the morning
Green as the grass
Covering a grave

This song.  The vocals.  The solo by Mike McCready.  Solves everything.

I look at Twitter and see the vocalist for that song made a very rare tweet.


He’s not wrong.  But that hardly solves the problem.

If Clowntown exists, I don’t want to visit.  I don’t get clowns.

The cleansing continues.  So many people on the trail today.  Each and every one can’t help but smile as they see my hyper dog.

He’s crazy.

We have an initiative in my state to stop Citizen’s United.  I don’t know what that will do, but it’s always worth a shot.

Because one of these candidates have done nothing but use that decision to her advantage.

There has been no discussion of climate change.  None of the state of the US economy.  There has been nothing of substance regarding money in politics.  Minimum wage.  Fracking.  Anything worth while.

Down to the water
Drawn to the flame
This life will leave you crippled
Don’t you know the game
Once you woke up choking
But then you held it down
Dry as the sand in the desert
Black as the clouds covering the sun

I really don’t have a point today.

So I voted.

I didn’t get a sticker.

In a black and white world, the choice is easy.

But this world isn’t black and white.  There’s always room for a little blue.

And I decided I wanted to use more pictures in my posts.


Leadership and the Collection of Right Arms

This has been on my mind lately.  Mostly because my boss is not a very good boss.  He has no realization of what it means to be a good leader, but I think he’s been taught.  Sometimes his actions do not match his words.

He, for instance, will talk to me calmly with condescending words.  He has obviously been told not to yell at people.

This, though, isn’t about how to be a good leader.  It’s what I’ve learned as a leader.  It’s the little things that I use as measuring sticks.

I believe I’m an alpha male.  I hate to say that, but I’ve been a leader as far back as I can remember.  Although, when I’ve heard the term “alpha male” used about people over the years, I’ve found that person is so desperate to be respected they act overly aggressive.

Big and loud only instill fear.  While fear is a valuable tool, it’s not nearly the first one I go to.

Those who know do not talk. Those who talk do not know. Keep your mouth closed. Guard your senses. Temper your sharpness. Simplify your problems. Mask your brightness.

I’m the boss.  I don’t need to tell you.  You know.

I also don’t require to be the boss.  But I have issues with authority.

All that aside.

Although I’ve been in a leadership position much of my career, it was when I went into a management position that I saw things change.  I learned that how I present myself and how I’m treated were suddenly different.  I didn’t ask for it.

The first thing I learned is that my mood affects everybody’s mood.  Related or unrelated.  It doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t help that I’m hard to read.  It doesn’t help that I’m generally all business at work.

One part of my operation was struggling not long after I got my promotion years ago.  A woman in another part of the operation asked me if it was her I was mad at.  I wasn’t mad.  I was stressed.  I was trying to solve an issue.  I hadn’t even bothered to worry about her because she was doing her job.

I quickly realized that in a position like that, people always assumed I was upset at them.  I had to make a change and engage people.  I had to let them know I was not upset.

Everybody will screw you out of an hour to save themselves ten minutes.  This is truth.  There is nothing worse than when people act selfishly.  If allowed, people will generally act this way.

This is where I try to engage my work groups as if they are a sports team.  Why would anybody leave the game before it’s over?  Why would you expect me to go around and finish everything you weren’t willing to?

Constant struggle.  Honestly.  But I always get there.

Always take care of those who take care of me.

Simple rule.  But it’s one that I have not seen in practice by others often.  People go into leadership roles for purely selfish reasons.  Generally money.  Often power.

I have always found that if I treat people well, the team works better.

But that means fighting for what the team needs even if it doesn’t fit with the management philosophy.  It’s a fine line.

They are, after all, a dysfunctional family, and need to be recognized as such.  We don’t get to pick who is in our family and we don’t get to choose who we work with, but we spend an extraordinary amount of time with people we work with.  Sometimes far more than we spend waking hours with those close to us.

This can cause tension.  This can cause fights.  This can also cause work groups to act closely.

I have one last thing I’ve learned I want to put here, but a little history and an answer to the question you may be asking.

Why are you writing this?

Years ago (going back more than two decades), I was in my first leadership position.  It took some adjusting and I was very young.  They gave me this line that it was on a trial basis.  If I did well then I would get the promotion.

We all want to be recognized and paid for the work we do.

At the time I was not making very much money.  A little relief would be good.

I was sat down and told I would not be getting the promotion.  I was told I walked too slow.  I was told I had a bad attitude.  I was also told that everybody who reported to me would give their right arm for me.

So I moved on.  My leadership was recognized at the next job and I was offered a promotion rather quickly.

Let’s fast forward to current day.  That is, after all, what is driving me to write this.

My boss is a micro manager.  He gives me no room to breathe.  I have experienced this before and it didn’t end well for me.

He pulled me to the side about a month ago and told me that my office is a mess and I walk too slow and I needed to get more done while cutting hours.  He would show me how to do my job since I haven’t figured out how to do it.

My boss has been on jury duty this week.  The whole place has been calmer.  It’s been lighter.  My team has been finishing quicker and going home earlier.  They have been taking care of me.  I’ve seen an increase in production.

Or maybe my mood affects their mood.

One of my guys told me the other day, I don’t care, bro, you are a very good boss.  I would work for you anywhere, anytime.

Nobody is offering their right arm to my boss.  Nobody.

And I guess that has been my number one measure of success.

How many right arms could I collect?