Foreword

Some years ago I began to become a bit jaded. I had spent some 20 years on the road, or, to be more exact, in the air. I found a position in 1980, or thereabouts, as a management consultant, which required my traveling away from home each week on a Sunday night, and returning the same week on Friday. At the end of the first year, which was spent entirely in Buffalo, New York, I was 'promoted' and started traveling not only to Buffalo but also to Savannah, Georgia, in the same week. That existed for about 6 months, at which time I reverted back to the one location per week, although with a different company. Within 6 months, my schedule then was changed again, and I began the next 20 some years flying almost every single day. In 1986 I began working internationally.
Imagine this, leaving home on a Sunday evening, flying somewhere, arriving at about 10pm, or later. Work started normally around 6am, although in many cases, work started much earlier. Work lasted all day, until after 5pm, at which time you rushed to an airport to get on another flight. Having the opportunity to relax you enjoyed a drink, then ate something brown, so you enjoyed another drink. You arrived at the next destination at 10pm, or later. You met with some fellow workers you had not seen for 6 months, so you had a couple drinks and shared many stories. Sooner or later it was well after midnight, and the alarm was set for 5am or earlier.
So, the next day you went to work, only to follow the same schedule as the previous day. Multiply that by 50 weeks. Then multiply that by more than 18 years. My career as a consultant spanned over 20 years, but, extensive traveling was the vast majority of those years.
Romantic? Flying the skies to a distant destination, flying in the newest aircrafts, along with the old standbys, helicopters, the 747's and the Concorde? Staying in some of the most popular and expensive hotels as well as some of the least known and cheapest hotels?
Some say yes.
I say no.
I must have flown into Paris (France, not Texas) a dozen times and left a dozen times before I saw the Eiffel Tower (and then it was from a few miles distance).
In a rush, running through airports, a brief stopover at the duty free to buy something for those souls back home, invariably choosing something useless as you had not been home long enough to appreciate the changes among those loved ones.
Was I lonely? No.
I had no time to be lonely. While I was working at one location, my mind was on the next location trying to decipher what needed to be done based on the reports I received every day, while my ear was attached to the cell phone to the last location, those folks trying desperately to follow the directions I left, or, worse, reporting a disastrous turn of events. My charter from our chairman of the board was to ensure that not one day of work was lost with any client. I was the police and the negotiator.
At 5pm, time to go. Could not go before 5pm, as we bill the client for a full day, not a half day, not a couple hours, but for a full day. That means (at a tremendously ridiculous daily price – I won't even mention the price as I sometimes shudder when I realize what the client was paying for my own services, let alone some of the lesser experienced folks) the client was consistently watching the clock.
Tired? I wish I had 10 bucks for every taxi ride I took that put me to sleep within the first few minutes. One's energy level was drastically increased at work, the blood quickly coursing along your veins, supercharged, and within 60 seconds, plummeting to a dead crawl. Probably why I didn't see the Eiffel Tower for more than a dozen trips. I also probably spent more for a single taxi ride than what was normal, as the driver could easily see I was totally unaware of where we were and where we were going (airport? - just take me to one).
Excitement? Absolutely.
New cities, new parts of the world, meeting with new people, old friends, politicians, celebrities, and even royalty. I promise to write about some of those in the future, just small tidbits of the poor rubbing elbows with the rich and famous. Quick note: less than 2 months after I began this career, I sat next to Fran Tarkington, who some of you might remember. He offered me a job with his consulting firm. I refused, saying that I felt I was too inexperienced at that point. Don't ever think because you missed an opportunity you will never get another one. In 2005, 25 years after I met Fran Tarkington, I received an invitation from him to join him in promoting legal services to small business owners. This time I accepted. However, I didn't make any money this time, and left after a half a year.
Have you seen the Belgian Mummers? The Batu caves and the Hindi ceremonies held there (the one where the skewers are shoved through the cheeks, for example)? Tossed like an old newspaper from a Japanese commuter train? The bombed out Beirut? The transformation of former eastern block cities such as Prague, Budapest or Warsaw from a dull gray into a colorful vibrant progressive city? The Van Gogh's, the Rembrandt's? How about crystal? Hand blown crystal. Have you seen how airlines are managed? How about a bank? Or a coal mine, a palm oil plantation, a sex shop chain, a tire manufacturer, a think tank, an electric power company, hotels, a governmental postal service? How about a toilet paper manufacturer, an umbrella factory, a milk processor, a sawmill, an operating room,
cruise liners, prosthesis manufacturer, go-kart factory, plywood manufacturer, plate glass manufacturers, oil companies?
All of the above lent itself well to my becoming well jaded. Nothing surprised me, no one I ran across easily impressed me, I saw many important, as well as self-important, people every day. One fellow I ran across had a daily operating budget of 16 million US dollars. Another had over 40,000 employees. Another fellow would make one of anything you wanted, of course at an extreme price. Have you ever met anyone that installed American universities around the world?
I realized that I had been successful, entirely too successful. I admit I was well paid, and as a result, I spent well. I lived the life.
Coming home from the other side of the world? After being away from home for 3 months? And it is Christmas? Only business class tickets allowed if you were high enough in the organization as I was. So, a small reward, upgrade personally to first class. After all, it is Christmas, and I was away for 3 months. Only a few thousand or in some cases several thousand, but well worth it as I had busted my butt for 3 months, flying every day, matching wits with the corporate presidents and chairmen of the boards every day, protecting not only the company I worked for but also those presidents' and chairmens' companies. I was hired by my company to represent our clients to our own management, assuring them a quality product, and at the same time representing our own employees to the client management. Nobody else did that job for longer than 6 months before either becoming ineffective or quitting in frustration. The biggest frustration was spending hours and hours with the client, installing understanding as well as negotiating through problems, only to emerge from the lion's den to find yourself in a snake pit with your own fellow employees, who were busy being protective of their previous actions, regardless of how disastrous those actions were.
So I deserved the upgrade.
Even if it cost thousands. Eventually it didn't matter if it was Christmas or not, just simply a return home after some months. Then a return home after a couple weeks. Then every week.
Domino effect.
Why am I telling you all this background? I hope you will get a flavor of my life for those years, the incredible opportunities I was given, the broadening of my life. The sights, the countries, the cultures, the industries, the unforgettably intense experiences I was given.
In 2002 I left the business, I returned to America, and moved to a city I had spent 2 hours in, some 6 years before. Tucson. Why? It was warm, I had never lived there, I had liked what I saw, it was the desert, which I had never been to before, nor had lived in.
I began to practice living under what the Social Security system would pay me once I became of age. Of course, for the first year and a half that was easy. I couldn't find work.
But, slowly, I learned how to forgo those things I had become accustomed to having. After over 20 years of eating 3 meals a day in a restaurant for years without a home-cooked meal, I could not afford even the dollar menu at McDonald's.
And, while not very much, I did learn how to save a little money, which I used to upgrade my small home into a rather comfortable place to live.
But, I was missing something. I had been divorced for twenty years. During that time I did not have a steady girlfriend, as commitment was not my priority. I will admit several times I had my mind changed, but, sensibility (whether mine or the woman's, I will not say) won out, and I remained single, with no ties.
During my time in Tucson, I learned how to give to charitable endeavors without spending money. I gave my time. And I found out that my time was more precious to those that need help than the money I had been giving in the past. And, because I was close to those endeavors, I began to rub elbows with those with far less than I ever had.
I had begun to converse with folks over the internet, not dating services however. Strictly pen-pal situations. However, some of those situations did eventually equate to a dating service type of approach. Still strongly single, I was not convinced, nor, I suspect, did I convince the so-called pen-pals that I was of sufficient caliber.
But I did run into someone that was extremely easy to get to know, and eventually I became aware of her particular situation, and the inherent problems that were the results. She had a verbally abusive marriage, with a policeman, which had begun to turn into physical abuse. She stopped that immediately, before it became a problem, although she had spent 25 years with him. The inherent problems were her children. In order to support them, she could only find a job that took her away for a month at a time. Her children were in their teens then, and coupled with the years of lacking a father, the absence of the mother allowed a deterioration of a tenable situation. Now back at home, the mother found she had little to no control over the children, now all over 20.
Within a short period of time, I decided that I might be some help, although there was no reason to think that. Maybe because I had seen everything?
So, I left for the Philippines to meet Judith (she is better known as Didith) and her family. And found out what it is like to live poor. What it is like to have absolutely no hope to emerge above the mud one was mired in from birth.
Do we have poor in the states? Of course. But, we do have programs (I am not offering any personal thoughts about these programs) that help the poor, should they want to be helped.
But, there are few programs here, and what ones I have heard about seem to be utilized by the managers of those programs to line their own pockets, with little or no substance given to the needy.
So, I began to send emails to some relatives and friends, and some of them have convinced me that they find them interesting. I have now decided to place the previous emails on a blog, and I will contribute to that blog in the future, letting you know what I am finding here.
In no way will I try to convince you of something that is not true. In no way will I try to mislead you. However, being human, I may misunderstand, and therefore may tell you something that is not true, or, mislead you. I beg your forgiveness now, and can only offer my determination to set things straight once I am made aware of a mistake. I have, and will continue, to review everything with Didith, and/or her acquaintances prior to sending out the next submission. Where legal situations are in question, I will attempt to find out the true legal allowances, and if there are none available, I will endeavor to make sure you are aware.
I hope you enjoy, and learn.