The Trailing Edge

  Back in the days of old (no cell phones, no email), I worked in a New York City sales office, for a guy who just could not stand confrontation. He told me once that he'd almost rather die than fire someone. But sometimes he had to. This is how he went about it. The occasion I best remember was the case of a woman named Pat. Ken (the boss) instructed me as follows. He wrote Pat a letter of dismissal, signed it, had me put it in a sealed envelope with her name on it. Then, he got hold of Pat on the phone and told her he'd gotten an appointment for her with a prospective client, for Thursday afternoon, around 3:30. This was a legitimate appointment; he had spoken to the prospect and it was set. However, just to cover himself, he kindly told Pat that if the prospect wasn't there or cancelled, she should "beat the rush-hour traffic" and just go home early. Who could resist such an offer? Meanwhile, Ken booked a flight for Thursday afternoon, when he expected Pat to b

  My parents were your basic lower middle class white people. They "meant well," and "tried" ... sort of. But conversing with them on the topics of race and class for five minutes made it very easy to discern their perspective. An example. One day we were watching the news and they ran a story about standardized testing (such as the SATs) and how these tests were often designed with implicit bias baked right in. They interviewed a student, who read from one of the tests she'd used as practice.  "Differentiate between the musical styles of Wagner and Beethoven." She got the standard pronunciation of "Beethoven" right, but rather than pronouncing "Wagner" in the German style ("Vogner"), she used the more standard English pronunciation. I remember how my parents jumped on that. They were huge when it came to spelling, grammar, usage and pronunciation.  "WAG-ner!" they scoffed, and turned away in dismissal. As if to

  In my blue-collar hometown, in the early 1970s, we had neighbors named the Vs. Kathy and Kenny V. were siblings; Kathy was a year younger than me, and Kenny was about a year younger than his sister. Their mom was an extremely anxious person, always worried and afraid. She once watched her kids go down our swimming pool slide, having a great time, and let out a loud gasp. The dad, from what we gathered, was a strict "no fun is best" type of parent. These were not carefree types.  I knew this. So it surprised me, at age 11 or 12, one day at the local park, to see Kathy run joyfully across the grass and throw herself into some guy's arms. That can't be right,  I thought. This is because in some ways, my parents weren't too different from Mr. and Mrs. V. My dad, in particular. He was a bit of a drama-lover. His recipe for instilling the "right values" in me was to overreact and characterize normal adolescent foibles as a gateway to Federal prison. So when

                          Important announcement to my faithful readers (all four of them): I'm employed again. My last gig was, shall we say, seasonal employment with a company that lots of people get packages from. That was January and since then I've been living on Social Security. There used to be two Social Security recipients in the house, but now there's just me, so extra income was needed. I had a pretty good idea of the type of work I wanted to do, and as of tomorrow, I'll be working for, well, let's call it a big-box store. This is pretty exciting. So, right after I finished the nuts & bolts part of the interview, where they get my consent to run a background check, etc., the man behind the desk said "Okay, so, if you want, we start orientation tomorrow at, oh, let's say 4:00 p.m. That work for you?" Um...yeah... I mean, you tell me, okay dude? Or should I test this and see if Orientation Dude feels like waiting for me to stroll in at 7:0

                                     Recently, an in-law from Arizona, a relative newcomer to the family, commented on the behavior of another in-law, who I've known for some time: "Between you and me, I find it very odd that one of her family members is always living with them." The person to whom she was referring had just had her brother move out after several years, and now her mother was there, sharing space with the married couple and their two young children. I know that the rental income was convenient in the first case, and baby-sitting services in the second case have been invaluable for two full-time working parents, especially in these times of uncertain school safety. I have lived in the South longer than I ever lived in the North. I married a Southerner. So it's probably no huge surprise that I "get" this aspect of Southern life: Family is Forever . Families often share their homes, and surprisingly often, they create "compounds," in

  I spent July 4th with my son, his wife, her mom, and my grandkids, who are 2-1/2 and almost 5. In the typical scramble that always occurs when attempting even the most minor activity with very young kids, I found myself transferring the contents of my wallet to my pockets, in the event cash was needed for treats at the fairgrounds. I came up with a couple of dollars' worth of change, but included in that were a half-dozen pennies. Who needs pennies? Who uses them? Who even likes them? The obvious answer: Kids! Very young children still have no true concept of money or what it's for. To them, it's shiny, sparkly, jingly stuff, or interesting pictures of old men wearing funny clothes. They somehow know that it's important, but haven't quite wrapped their little heads around the concept of why. I remember my son, at a very young age, coming into possession of a handful of coins.  "Monies!" he cried, delightedly throwing the coins into the air, just to hear

Lately, I've had cause to ponder the way people handle money. My teen years include my father sneering at me: "You spent money on THAT?" Interestingly, when I was young, he was happy to shell out money for nearly anything and everything I asked for. My tastes weren't extravagant -- I just wanted the "double-header" ice cream cone, which was about twice as much as the single. It was only when I started earning my own money that Dad began picking at me. I guess he worried that I would never learn how to save. He needn't have concerned himself. My tastes have always been simple and basic, and I know the rudiments of investing as well as saving.   I can't necessarily say the same for my parents. They are no longer available to ask about this, but back in the late 1980s, they sold their 40-year-old home for many times the price they bought it for; they then moved to Florida, bought a comparatively cheap house and piece of land ... and then took out a 30-y

In my teenage years I discovered the cure to the They don't love me back dilemma: Horoscopes.  In my pre-teen days, I suffered from love sickness. The adults around me called it puppy love. It's only now that i realized that they were not referring to the young girls as puppies but to me as puppy. That how boys are trained into men are dogs.  I remember my first love, Laura. Actually there were two Lauras. I remember Laura the First as very pretty and I remember lots of wonderful baby fat. She was the class queen.  Since I was not the class king, she did not love me back. A dilemma that haunted me deep into my teenage years. I might add that I do not remember Laura the Second other than her name. The horoscopes was on the same page of the newspaper as the comics, although I had not noticed the horoscopes before. My horoscope that day said auspicious day for love . One thought led to another and I ended up in the library borrowing Linda Goodman's Love Signs . A

                            The best way to explain how the different astrological elements (Fire, Earth, Air, Water) operate is to imagine a school playground at recess. Two kids get into a physical fight. Four teachers come running to the scene; here’s how they respond to the situation. The teacher born under Fire (Aries, Leo, Sagittarius ) may never admit it, but they’re kind of excited by the fight. They will want to observe the “technique” of each kid and gauge the mood of the “spectators.” They might even imagine placing a bet on the outcome. But then, they will also be the first to wade in and break it up, regardless of personal risk. The kids might be somewhat intimidated by the teacher's energetic approach, but that won't necessarily calm everybody down. The teacher born under Earth (Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn) will be very disapproving. Fighting is against the rules – it’s right there in the school handbook! Those kids are in BIG

  It's a funny thing, I have spent my life accumulating knowledge. It started after I left school. While in school, I did what was needed to get good grades. That is because everyone -- parents, teachers, the world -- measured me that way. I did not need to know anything, just remember enough in the moment to pass the tests. I of course did not realize what I was doing as a young student, but I am sure that my teachers knew. Not sure if it mattered to them as long as I got good grades. See, that's how the teachers are measured too: On my good grades. But, let's not rehash this critique of the educational system. After I was done with school, that is, done with college too, I started to read the books I should have read in school. I mean I did read these books in school but I did not really read them. I did not learn what there was to learn in them. The first book, oddly enough, was a book from one of my English Literature classes, The Scarlet Letter . I say oddly enough be

My 11th-grade English teacher, Mr. Joseph, was brilliant. That year, we studied American Literature, and he walked us through the gamut of novelists, storytellers and poets from the Colonial era through the early 1960s. Yes, of course we started with The Scarlet Letter, but we headed into spring with Death of a Salesman. Mr. Joseph wasn't just brilliant, he was also quite funny. Looking back, I'm quite sure he had Tourette's Syndrome. He would sometimes pause in the middle of reading a story, form his hand into a gun and yell "Pow-pow-pow!" Or he would be taking attendance and split someone's last name into syllables separated by "Duh-uh-uh!" Always with a completely straight face. He wasn't ridiculing or threatening anyone -- these bizarre lapses didn't seem to be directed at anyone. They happened randomly and then he went right back to what he was doing.  But at the time, it appeared to be just another facet of Mr. Joseph's exceedingly

[The answers are way down at the bottom.] In the mid-1960s, TV viewers could be “haunted” by two sitcoms that portrayed morbid monsters as the satiric versions of wholesome families seen on such shows as “Father Knows Best,” “Leave it to Beaver,” and several others. While the shows ran on rival networks, they had many things remarkably in common. Test your knowledge of these two classic comedies. Which of the two shows debuted first? a. The Munsters b. The Addams Family Which of these combinations is correct? a. The Addams Family, on ABC, Friday nights b. The Munsters, on NBC, Tuesday nights c. The Munsters, on ABC, Sunday nights d. The Addams Family, on CBS, Monday nights Which of the two shows began as a cartoon in The New Yorker magazine? a. The Munsters b. The Addams Family 4. Which of the two series experienced a change in its cast midway through the first season? a. The Munsters b. The Addams Family 5.