I realized that I needed to do something about my weight, but I always tend to procrastinate when it comes to unpleasant personal matters. Never put off until tomorrow what you can put off until the day after tomorrow. A few days later, I was tickling my three year old son and I commented on how skinny he was. He laughed and said, “I want to be fat like you, Daddy”.

Those words were exactly the call to action that I needed. I’ve always struggled with my weight, but my son inspired me to take decisive measures to change my lifestyle. I started on a diet and exercise program that day, and I’ve managed to stick with it for nearly seven months so far. Unlike the crash diets that I’ve used in the past to shed lots of weight quickly, this feels different. I’m not losing weight as fast, but I’m confident that I can keep it off for good this time. I’m also building substantial muscle mass, and the shape of my body has changed dramatically. I’ve taken off about 30 pounds, and I’ve got about 30 more to go.

The two biggest lifestyle adjustments I’ve had to make are setting aside time for my daily exercise routine, and learning to eat all over again. As a professional cooking instructor, I had spent years teaching people to prepare decadent foods with little concern for their nutritional value or caloric content. I’m now in the process of teaching myself how to cook healthier dishes that still satisfy my desire for intense flavor.

For all of you cooks out there who are also trying to live a healthier lifestyle, here is the best advice I can give you. Forget about trying to make low fat imitations of your favorite dishes. It’s just not possible to make a fat free Alfredo sauce, and no matter what you do the results will always be disappointing. Concentrate instead on new recipes that are naturally lean and don’t rely on ingredient substitutions. You can still enjoy your favorite foods on occasion if you learn to moderate your eating habits.

Several years ago when I was preparing to open Foodies, the Atkins Diet was all the rage. Well meaning people would suggest almost daily that I could make a killing offering low-carb cooking classes. When I replied that I didn’t intend to offer any, they were usually stunned. At the time, nearly 10% of American adults were on some form of low-carb diet.

I’ve always been highly skeptical of fad diets, and of the diet industry in general. To me, the Atkins concept seemed even more absurd than most of the others that came before it. Among those who fell for the hype, however, it seemed like counting carbs was the only topic available for polite conversation. Those of us who weren’t on the diet got pretty sick of hearing about it from those who were. I for one was happy to see the low-carb fad fade into memory, like so many mood rings and pet rocks before it.

Fad diets have never been the answer to maintaining a healthy weight. There are plenty of diets out there that can help you lose weight, but none are effective at keeping it off. They simply require more self-discipline than most folks can muster over the long haul. They also ignore the fact that human beings evolved as omnivores, and our bodies require nutrients from a wide variety of food sources. We are no better equipped to live entirely on protein and fat than we are to live on a diet of Krispy Kreme doughnuts.

The key to maintaining a healthy weight is moderation. You are far better off to eat a variety of foods you enjoy in reasonable quantities than to try and eliminate entire food groups from your diet. It’s okay to cook with butter, and to eat full flavored dishes, as long as you learn to moderate your portion sizes. It’s not about eliminating carbs or fat from your diet. It’s about skipping the second trip to the buffet, and saying no to the Super-Size fries. If you ever wonder where fat people go at lunchtime, check out the all you can eat Chinese buffets.

I’ve always hated the holier than thou skinny folks who find it so easy to talk down to people who are overweight. In a way, I’m even worse. I’m one of those overweight folks myself, and I’m sick to death of hearing the excuses my fellow fat people make for being fat. While a tiny minority of overweight people may have legitimate medical conditions that contribute to their problem, the rest of us have no excuse at all. It’s not about our genes, it’s not about our glands, and it’s not about those pesky stress hormones we hear so much about on TV. We’re fat for one simple reason: We consume more calories than we burn. If you want to lose weight, eat less, put down the remote, and get your fat ass off the couch.

MAGGIE

GROVER

Some of you will recall a couple of posts I wrote last year about the ongoing health problems of our dogs Maggie and Grover. The original posts can be found here and here if you would like to start from the beginning. Maggie suffered from a variety of ailments, including a tumor on her spine that ultimately resulted in paralysis of her hind legs. At her advanced, age there were no treatment options that offered a reasonable chance of a successful outcome, and we made the very difficult decision to put her down in October.

Maggie’s health issues had brought about a very unpleasant change in her temperament, and we were constantly worried about the possibility of aggressive behavior toward Grover or our son Robert. She had become a very unpleasant presence in our home, but putting her down was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do.

When we came home from the vet after Maggie’s euthanasia, Grover was there to greet us at the door. His life improved considerably that day since we no longer had to worry about unprovoked attacks from Maggie. We enjoyed a period of several months of relative good health with his seizures under control. The downside was that the massive daily dose of Phenobarbital left him in a mild haze. Over time the changes in his personality became more pronounced, and he seemed to be less aware of his surroundings.

A couple of months ago, the seizures began to return, and our only recourse was to increase his dosage. The situation got progressively worse, and we went from 5 to 6 to 7 and finally 8 Phenobarbitals a day. This was for a dog who only weighed 18 pounds. Even at that massive dosage, the seizures didn’t stop, and blood tests showed that the drugs were beginning to destroy his liver. Our vets suggested that we switch to a different drug and wean him off the Phenobarbital gradually. From that point forward, things went downhill quickly.

The new drugs left him in a constant stupor. He couldn’t walk without falling down or bumping into walls, and he seemed to have very little sense of what was going on around him. The drugs also made him very restless, and in spite of the fact that he could barely walk or stand, he refused to lie still. He fell down the stairs several times a day. The doctors suggested that we give him some time to adjust to the new meds and continue to wean him off the old. I was willing to go along with that suggestion until the seizures returned in full force. These weren’t the grand mal seizures he had suffered in the past, but he did have a constant series of small seizures several times per hour.

It was obvious to me that we had exhausted our options, but Jennifer refused to give up. She was still feeling guilty about Maggie, and was determined to keep fighting a losing battle. I tried to convince her that we were torturing the dog, but she insisted that we keep trying. We started him on a 3rd seizure medication, but we couldn’t take him off the other two suddenly. For the last 4 days, this little dog was taking enough medication to subdue a horse, and it still didn’t work. He was still having constant mild seizures, and he was completely incapacitated by the drugs.

Sunday night was a bad night. Jennifer insisted on taking him to the emergency vet and they gave him extra Phenobarbital and a light dose of Valium intravenously. The Valium took care of the restlessness, but it also left virtually comatose. His regular vet gave him a second small dose on Monday morning, and we brought him back home that afternoon. He was practically lifeless, and for the next several hours he didn’t move an inch from the spot where I had placed him on the couch. He was unable to eat, or even to stand to go to the bathroom.

Jennifer woke me up at 4:00 AM today, and she had finally decided that the time had come to put him out of his misery. She wanted to take him to the emergency vet and have him put down immediately. I convinced her to wait until we could see his regular doctor in the morning. We took Robert to school early so we could be there when the doctor arrived. I carried him into the office and laid him on the examining table wrapped in a blanket. He didn’t move.

Grover had been a favorite of the staff for years, and several of the vet techs who had known him came in crying to say their goodbyes. We waited for the doctor for around 15 minutes, and during this time he showed practically no signs of life other than his very slow breathing.

The doctor finally came in and we had the required discussion about being sure we wanted to carry through with our plan. She agreed that we were doing the right thing, and Grover chose that moment to pick his head up and show the first signs of life in days. Jennifer immediately began to second guess her decision and started asking about new treatment possibilities. Fortunately, he collapsed again after just a few seconds, and she realized that there was no more hope for him.

Fortunately, Grover still had a catheter in his leg from the earlier IV, so administering the drugs was much easier. Ordinarily a massive sedative is administered first before the toxic injection, but in his case it wasn’t necessary. I held him in my arms while the drug was injected, and I could feel the tiny amount of life left in him extinguished almost instantly.

Coming home this time was much worse than with Maggie since there wasn’t anyone left to greet us at the door. I had told Jennifer that I wanted to wait a few years before we got another dog, but after just a couple of hours I’m already finding that it’s far too quiet around here without one.

The recruiter I spoke to instructed me to go to the Census Bureau website and fill out an application and I-9, and to bring the completed forms to the testing session. I was also told to take a practice test online to prepare for the real thing. I followed the instructions to the letter and printed copies of my application and I-9. I also took the practice test and got a perfect score.

Even though it is a 30 minute timed test, the testing session was scheduled to last two hours. When I arrived for the test, I was the only one in attendance who had filled out the forms in advance. I had to sit and twiddle my thumbs while the Census representative administering the test went line by line through both forms instructing people how to fill them out. This process took nearly 40 minutes.

Once the forms were filled out and everyone’s identification was verified, I assumed we would start the test. I was wrong. The proctor handed out copies of the same practice test that I had already taken online, and we we’re instructed to spend the next 30 minutes studying the practice version. More time to twiddle my thumbs.

The actual test started nearly an hour and a half after we arrived at the site. We were told that we had 30 minutes to complete the test, and that we could not leave until everyone had finished. The proctor set a kitchen timer and told us to begin. I opened my test booklet and it was virtually identical to the practice version that I had now taken twice. I completed it in about 15 minutes and then sat patiently waiting for everyone else to finish. It only took the proctor about 15 seconds to grade my test using a cutout template, and for the third time I got a perfect score.

By the time 30 minutes elapsed, everyone had finished the test except for one very fat woman who was obviously having a hard time. Just before the timer went off, the proctor reset it in an obvious effort to allow her to finish. At the end of 45 minutes he finally set off the timer manually, even though the fat lady was still struggling to complete her test. We were finally allowed to leave after being told that hiring priority would be based on our test scores, so the people with the highest scores would be called first.

Three weeks passed before I received a call. I was offered a job working in the local Census office, but what was offered was very different from what had been advertised. The hourly rate had somehow gone down to $9.00, and the flexible schedule was now strictly 8:30 to 5:00. I should have simply passed it up at the time, but I decided to give it a try since I had nothing else to do, and Jennifer is getting tired of being the sole breadwinner.

I reported for my first day yesterday, and took my seat in the large training room. The person beside me was the fat woman from my testing session. We spent the first several hours going line by line through at least a dozen forms, including the I-9 that I had already submitted when I took the test. One of the forms we were shown how to fill out was a daily time sheet. For reasons I cannot comprehend, we were instructed to turn our time sheets in at least two hours before the end of our shift each day.

When the last form was finally completed, we were fingerprinted and required to take an oath of office. The oath that the President of The United States takes is only 39 words and can be recited in just a few seconds. Ours was more like 5 paragraphs and took over a minute. Once the oath was completed, we were informed that our employment would end in 8 weeks.

After lunch our training began in earnest. We had 3 sessions scheduled with 3 different instructors, and we spent about 20 minutes in between each one waiting for the next instructor to arrive. Each session was prefaced by a statement telling us that the material they were about to present didn’t really apply to what we would be doing, but we were required to sit through it anyway since they didn’t have a training program for the jobs we would be performing. The instructor would then proceed to read a script verbatim from a workbook for 20 or 30 minutes. When they finished, we were required to go back and reread exactly the same material.

The final session for the day was with the Assistant Manager of Technology for the local office. In addition to a being a self-proclaimed technology guru, he told us that he was a former police officer, an ordained minister, and a “Christian Financial Adviser.” Unlike the other instructors, he began his presentation with a long list of actions that would result in our immediate termination. When he finally got beyond every possible firing offense, he spent the next 30 minutes speaking in acronyms for which he offered no explanation.

The final session ended at 4:45, and we were allowed to leave 15 minutes earlier than what we had stated on the time sheets that we filled out that morning. When the day ended, I felt as if a large portion of my brain had atrophied, and I still had no clue as to what my new job would entail.

When I arrived this morning, we were told that there were going to be some changes in the work schedule. Instead of 8:30 to 5:00, we were going to divided into two shifts. The first shift would have to arrive at 7:00 AM and work until 3:30. The second shift would work from Noon until 8:30 PM. To make matters worse, we would be rotating between first and second shift every 3 days. I had been at work for less than 5 minutes and my head was ready to explode. I stood up and handed the supervisor my ID badge. My career with the Census Bureau had lasted for exactly 7 hours and 19 minutes.

Given the state of the economy, I don’t expect many people to sympathize with my situation. There are plenty of people who are out of work and desperate enough to allow themselves to be jerked around and put through the wringer. I simply have not reached that level of desperation. Several of the people in the room looked as if they wanted to applaud when I walked out this morning, but I could tell by the look in their eyes that they had no choice but to remain. They are the folks who deserve sympathy.

The economy began to tank just around the time that I started looking for a job over a year ago. Since then, the energy I’ve devoted to searching for worthwhile opportunities has fluctuated dramatically. At first I had reasonably high hopes that I might find something in keeping with my skills and experience, but those hopes evaporated pretty quickly. Over time, I’ve gradually lowered my expectations to the point that I would consider almost anything just to get out of the house.

We’ve actually been fortunate that we’re able to live on Jennifer’s income, but we haven’t had much of a cushion in the event of something unforeseen. Unfortunately, the meager wage I will be earning won’t provide much of a cushion either. I will actually be earning less than I did at my first job fresh out of graduate school over 20 years ago.

I won’t be one of the folks going door to door, but I think I would probably enjoy that more than what I will be doing. For the first time in my life I will be stuck in an office for 8 hours a day with a very narrowly defined set of responsibilities. I will probably go postal in the first week.

The job is full-time, but it is also temporary. The best info I’ve gotten so far is that it could last anywhere from a couple of months to a couple of years. The likelihood of me lasting two years doing mind-numbing administrative work is pretty slim.

Going back to work is going to create some serious logistical problems for our family. Last summer we decided that since Jennifer works at home, we could get along with just one car. We’ve had no problems sharing since then, but now I’m not sure how this arrangement is going to work out. We’re going to have to figure out a way to get me to work and Robert to daycare without leaving Jennifer completely stranded. I’ve thought about buying a second car, but for a temporary job that could end at any time it doesn’t make much sense.

Being unemployed has allowed me to devote a lot of time to doing things I enjoy. I started this blog exactly one year ago, and I have invested a huge amount of time in it’s care and feeding. Hopefully I can keep it up, but don’t be surprised if I fall of the radar for extended periods of time. I’ve also been spending about two hours a day on my walking and exercise routine. That’s definitely going to be hard to keep up, but I will do my best. Fortunately, the RAC is open until 10:30.

I’ve also volunteered a lot of my time over the past year, and I am frantically trying to finish up a major project for Gallop 4 The Greenways this week. I’m cutting it close, but I think I can have a new fundraising website up and running before Monday rolls around.

Since October I’ve served on the board of the Economic Development Authority, and I am hoping to score one of the 30 volunteer spots for the upcoming Creative Communities Leadership Program. The selections are supposed to be announced sometime this week, and I am seriously torn over the possibility of conflict with what is likely to be a very inflexible work schedule. If a choice has to be made, I would probably quit the crappy job and focus on the CCLP instead. The difference I could make there will hopefully lead to more promising opportunities in the future.

In October, I realized that I was once again approaching the upper limit of that range. I was also counting the days until my 47th birthday. These factors were both weighing heavily on my mind the day my 3 year old son told me I was fat. I don’t think he realizes yet the negative connotations associated with being fat, but hearing those words from him was a call to action. I started walking the next day, and I’ve averaged about 5 miles per day since then.

I’ve never really been a physically active person, and the work I’ve done has always been sedentary in nature. There have only been a couple of times in my life that I’ve ever been in truly fit condition. Basic training in the Army was probably the most concentrated period of intense physical activity in my lifetime, but I was actually very disappointed that the regimen was not more demanding. During my two year enlistment period, I stayed closer to my ideal weight than at any other time.

I lived in the Washington, DC area during my early 30’s, and took advantage of the tremendous network of bike paths and trails that connect the entire region. For about 2 ½ years, I rode an average of 200 miles per week. I finally had to quit when I developed carpal tunnel syndrome and my hands became almost completely numb. It took several months after I quit riding for the sensation to return.

I’ve never been involved in organized sports, because frankly, I don’t have an athletic bone in my body. I took up golf about 8 years ago, and it is one of the few sports that I do truly enjoy. I spend a lot more time on the practice range than the typical recreational golfer, but the improvements I’ve seen over the years are more the result of stubborn determination than natural ability. Unfortunately, buzzing around in a golf cart doesn’t provide much in the way of exercise.

I started my daily walking routine in early October, and in January my wife and I decided to join the Roanoke Athletic Club. I’ve never done any sort of strength training until now, and all I can say is I wish I had started 30 years ago. The effects of middle-age have definitely taken a toll on my body, but I am surprised at how quickly I have responded to the exercise program. The progress I’ve seen is far more dramatic than I expected in a matter of a few weeks.

I have a regimen of 16 exercises using a variety of Life Fitness, Nautilus, and Freemotion machines. I spend about an hour a day on my workout, rotating between two sets of 8 exercises each day. I could barely walk after the first couple of days, but the initial pain has given way to something completely unexpected: I’m actually starting to enjoy the workouts. Since early January, I’ve only missed one day.

When I started walking in October, my primary goal was weight loss. I’ve avoided any sort of strict diet regimen, but I have made a conscious effort to eliminate certain foods and to reduce my portion sizes. These are the kind of changes that are far more likely to result in long-term success than yo-yo dieting. The weight doesn’t come off as quickly, but it is much more likely to stay off once it is gone.

I know I’ve lost some weight since October, but I don’t know exactly how much. My son broke my old scale a few weeks ago, and the new one tells me I’ve actually gained 13 pounds. I know this isn’t true based on the way my clothes fit, but I don’t have a reliable baseline figure to gauge my progress. At this point, I am more interested in the way I look and feel than what the numbers on the scale tell me.

Men tend to suffer a number indignities as they approach middle-age. Some are a result of reduced physical activity, while others are entirely beyond our control. No amount of exercise will give me back my hair or restore my failing eyesight. My beard will still be grey, and my eyebrows are stating to remind me of Andy Rooney. I can’t stop these effects of time, but I have seen unexpected improvements in other areas. My posture is already better, and my lower back pains have vanished. I still suffer from chronic insomnia, but even that seems to be less severe.

Even though my weight loss has been modest so far, the surprising thing is how quickly my body shape is changing. I’ve taken a couple of inches off my waist, and most of my extra chins have already vanished. I’ve added far more muscle mass than I would have thought possible in a matter of six weeks, and I’m already seeing significant definition in my arms and legs. I still have plenty of extra padding around my mid-section, but even that is firming up rapidly. Thankfully, I never developed the most dreaded affliction of the overweight male. I may be fat, but at least my son didn’t have to ask why I had man-bosoms.

In 2004, I decided to turn my love of food into a business. Foodies started out as a cooking school, and over time we expanded our offerings to include special events, prepared foods and meal assembly. I enjoyed certain aspects of the work, but I realized early on that there is a world of difference between cooking for pleasure and preparing industrial quantities of food on a daily basis.

When I left Foodies after 4 years, I pretty much left my passion for cooking behind. For the first several months I barely set foot in the kitchen, and when I did it was to create something as quick and easy as possible. The fact that my son was still a toddler and my wife was on a severely restricted cardiac diet didn’t help, and it usually meant that we each ended up eating something completely different for every meal.

I don’t recall exactly when it happened, but sometime in the past few months I started to enjoy cooking again. I think the cooler weather has something to do with it. It also helps that Robert will turn 4 in March, and he is getting to the point where he will eat many of the same things that we enjoy. I actually look forward to preparing meals now, and Robert is an eager assistant. Teaching classes was the thing I enjoyed most at Foodies, and I look forward to teaching him.

One of the biggest challenges I face is that I grew accustomed to working in an amazing kitchen that’s bigger than my entire house, and to having people clean up after me whenever I made a mess. I also had access to a wide range of ingredients that aren’t available to the general public. Now I have to make do with what I can find in the grocery store, and work in a tiny kitchen that hasn’t been remodeled since 1971. It’s not easy, but I am having fun again.

I’m not sure if fun is the word I would use to describe the pleasure that I get from blogging, but this is definitely something that I do for my own satisfaction. Most of what I’ve written here lately has been political in nature, but I never really intended for this to become a political blog. It is simply a reflection of my personal interests at the moment. Now that I’m back in the kitchen, I’m probably going to begin writing about food and sharing some of my favorite recipes. I won’t stop writing about politics, or introversion, or any of the other subjects that interest me, but I will be adding to the mix. It might be a strange mix, but it’s mine.

Fisher-Price makes a device called the Easy Link Launch Pad that looked like the perfect solution. It is a USB device that allows kids to get to their favorite web sites by plugging a small cartoon figure into a pedestal. Each character is encoded with a specific URL, so when the child wants to visit the Sesame Street site, all they have to do is drop the Elmo figure into the pedestal and the site launches automatically.

I visited every toy store in town until I finally located one at Toys R Us. The only one left on the shelf had been opened and one of the characters had been stolen from the box. It turns out that the device only comes with 4 characters, and the others have to be purchased separately. Naturally, none of the extra characters were available. I had initially assumed that the characters would be programmable, but that is not the case. If the URL the character represents ever changes, or if you want to visit another site, you’re out of luck. This wasn’t the solution I wanted after all, but it gave me an idea that was even simpler.

Robert recognizes different icons on the desktop, so he can launch the browser without help. I created a web page that will serve as a gateway to all of his favorite sites. Since he can’t read normal text links, I used pictures of the various characters instead. Now all I have to do is install a second copy of Firefox and create a user profile for Robert. I will set his site as the home page and install ad-blocker and parental control add-ons to keep him out of trouble. I will also replace the standard Firefox icon with a Sesame Street character and he will be set. All he has to do is click on Elmo and he will be taken directly to his personal home page. From there he will have direct access to all of his favorite sites, and the browser controls will prevent him from wandering astray.

In addition to helping Robert navigate the web before he can read, this gift will have long-term benefits as well. As the web becomes more crowded, personalized domains will be much harder to acquire. He may not appreciate it now, but having his name as a web address will be quite valuable in the future.

Check Out Robert’s Website

If you had asked me a year ago, the possibility that I might be out of work for so long would have seemed preposterous. As the economy continues to deteriorate, I can now contemplate the very real possibility that I could go for another year without work. While I don’t believe that we’re entering a second Great Depression, the economic outlook for the coming year is far from rosy.

Even in a booming economy, I would have many factors working against me. At 47, I look forward and realize that I still have at least 20 productive years ahead of me. Unfortunately, from the employers perspective, they see me as someone who lacks the malleability of a younger employee, and represents higher costs in terms of salary expectations and health care benefits. I am also challenged by the fact that I live in a city with an increasingly one-dimensional economy, and I have already changed careers several times in my life.

In previous jobs, I’ve been responsible for a number of hiring and firing decisions. When evaluating prospective employees, I never looked favorably on anyone whose resume contained lengthy periods of unemployment. Now I am one of those people, and I know that the longer I am without a job, the lower my chances will be of getting one that I want.

Needless to say, my attitude regarding what I want to do versus what I am willing to do has changed considerably over the past year. During the first couple of months I considered some sort of freelance work, but I quickly realized that with my introverted nature, I lacked the contacts and the networking skills required to ever get off the ground. Since the majority of jobs are never advertised, I’m not finding it any easier to connect with potential employers than I would have with potential clients.

One of the major questions I keep asking myself is whether I am I better off to take a giant step backwards and essentially start over again, or should I hold out for something closer to my former position. While working for myself didn’t exactly make me rich, I had enjoyed a very successful career in the printing industry prior to that. If I had the same earning power today that I had then, our combined incomes would make us a target for a tax increase under President Obama’s plan. As it stands today, we’re safely within the 95%. Coming to terms with the notion that my peak earning years may already be behind me is not easy, but it is no longer my primary concern.

The older I get, the less importance I place on money as a measure of career satisfaction. I would be perfectly happy to earn a fraction of my previous income in a job that allowed me to be true to myself. Since I’ve had plenty of time to think about it lately, I’ve also come to realize a few more things about the way we define ourselves by what we do rather than who we are. Money and job titles are a convenient way of keeping score, and we tend to think of high scoring jobs as somehow being more satisfying than jobs that rank lower in income or prestige. Maybe we should all focus more on what makes us happy and not on what other people think of our career choices.

With the exception of our mortgage, the single largest item in our household budget is for child care. Our annual bill from Honeytree is nearly $8,000.00. I’ve considered being Mr. Mom for a while to avoid that expense, but since Jennifer works at home it would be impossible for her to get anything done with Robert in the house. It would also make it that much more difficult for me to ever find a job if I spent all my time keeping watching him. The real kick in the pants is that since I am not working, we won’t be able to deduct our child care expenses this year.

Beyond the financial consequences, extended unemployment takes a personal toll. With every passing day, nagging self doubt brought on by repeated rejection makes it more difficult to put myself out there. I’ve always had problems sleeping, but my insomnia has worsened to the point that I only get about 4 hours of sleep each night. My son is too young to think less of me for now, but one day he will wonder why I don’t go to work like all of the other daddies. I’m not looking forward to that day.

Given that the odds against me finding worthwhile employment are getting worse with every passing day, I’ve come to the conclusion that the only opportunities I’m going to find are the ones I create for myself. Somehow I have to figure out a way to utilize my greatest talents productively while overcoming my inherent weaknesses. In order to make that happen, I probably need to find a partner with a personality that is the polar opposite of my own.

The street we live on is famous throughout the Roanoke Valley for being a great place for trick or treaters. It’s the kind of place parents drop off kids by the carload from other parts of town. Residents of the two block stretch of Stanley Avenue between 24th and 26th street will have upwards of 500 kids in costume knocking on their doors this evening. My kid will be the only one dressed as an Ice Cream Sandwich. For weeks Robert couldn’t make up his mind about a costume. At various times he wanted to be Spider Man, a ghost, a monster and several other things that I don’t remember. I jokingly suggested the ice cream sandwich one evening at the dinner table, and the idea stuck. It’s amazing what you can do with a little felt and foam core.

We’ve all seen salespeople deliberately steer a customer toward a product or service that doesn’t meet their needs because it will earn them a larger commission than the one the customer really wants. What about the mechanic who replaces perfectly good parts on your car? These are events that we have all experienced, but what does the practice say about sales people or mechanics in general? Are they all crooks, or do the actions of a few cause them all to suffer a loss of reputation?

What about the attorneys or the ad agencies who bill for an hours work for a task that only takes 5 minutes? How many people have ever punched in for a friend who was running late, or claimed personal meals on an expense report? How often do supervisors and managers claim credit for the ideas and accomplishments of their subordinates? Is this behavior so common that we should accept it as the norm, or do most of us hold ourselves to a higher standard?

I witnessed some amazing examples of corruption during my years in the commercial printing business. I knew sales reps who earned six figure incomes because their spouse happened to be the buyer for a major corporation. I saw corporate buyers who supposedly act in the best interest of their employers receive personal gifts ranging from wedding dresses to lavish vacations. It’s difficult to determine which party is more culpable in those cases; the ones offering the bribes or the ones who accept them.

Have you ever stopped to wonder how certain people are able to achieve positions of power in the first place? Have they cheated the system along the way, or do they have the talent and experience to justify their positions? Are personal connections worth more than competence on the job? How common is the practice of resume padding, and is exaggerating our accomplishments and responsibilities the same as making up degrees we’ve never earned? Is the practice so widespread that otherwise honest people have to lie in order to get noticed?

We see countless cases of borderline criminal fraud on television every day. My favorite examples are the infomercials that offer a 30 day trial period for an expensive product at a ridiculously low price. What they never mention is that the low price only covers the trial period and not the product itself. Then there are the medical supply companies who exist for the primary purpose of defrauding Medicare. Do the people who create these ads have a conscience, or are they oblivious to the consequences of their actions?

There are criminal acts that often get overlooked as well. What about the merchant who keeps the cash register drawer open to avoid ringing up every sale, or the used car dealer rolling back the mileage on a car. What about the predatory lenders or the slumlords? These people are often respected members of their community until they get caught. Even if their actions are blatant, people pretend not to notice until they become headline news.

I consider myself to be an honest person, but I admit that I am not perfect. I have worked for unscrupulous employers in the past, and I have refused to participate in actions that I found to be ethically dubious. I’ve passed up opportunities to earn a handsome income by engaging in questionable schemes, but I prefer a clear conscience to the ill-gotten gains.