The last few days of recalling experiences with formal education have gotten me stuck in that track. And along those lines, my attitude toward educators themselves.
I’ve believed for a long while that the old adage is true that says: Those who can –do. And those who can’t –teach. Which further reminded me of a particular situation.
I’ve written over the past couple of days about my high regard for NYU and particularly, its faculty in what is now Stern School of Business, especially those whom succeeded in business by day and then taught at night. But, as in every walk of life, not all of them were winners.
I recall a basic class covering marketing fundamentals. Early on in the course, the instructor, professor or whoever, assigned a simple homework task. We were asked to create a newspaper ad for TV sets. I spent considerable time pondering the situation, finally coming up with a graphic that highlighted a console model surrounded by eye-catching background directing one’s focus to the set and its features.
When I handed my masterpiece in it was met with a sorrowfully shaking head, muttering “tsk, tsk, tsk.”
Obviously realizing a problem, I asked what was wrong. “The ad’s wrong” the instructor replied. “Haven’t you ever seen an ad for TV’s? They’re in the paper every day.” Then he opened the Daily whatever on his desk, flipped a few pages, then pointed his finger at an ad and said, “You see. That’s what I wanted. Everyone’s seen ads like this for TV’s. They all look exactly alike, so yours should too!”
I then asked, since these ads are by definition all exactly the same, would it have been alright if I’d just ripped the page out of the paper myself, and simply handed that in, saving myself from the migraine caused by attempted creativity and hours of drawing board work. “Oh no. You can’t do that,” he replied, “I wanted you to design the ad yourself.” Looking back, there’s humor in this classroom catch-22, but not at the time there wasn’t.
So, while this clump of protoplasm wanted me to be creative by replicating redundant ads that may or may not have served their purpose, I thought of something else. At the time I handed in my ad, I’d sold three AC electric lift trucks that very morning to a household name account in Jersey City. The total cost of that equipment was upwards of thirty thousand dollars. My commission was $1500.00+ which was an okay amount in 1966.
Over the course of that same year I sold more than 60 new fork lift trucks all told in a highly competitive market, at an average of about seven (7) grand a pop, among other types of equipment. You can do the arithmetic yourself, but vocationally, I think I was doing okay for myself as a kid in marketing/sales. In fact, I even won an all-expense paid trip for two to Nassau that year, courtesy of Allis-Chalmers for exceeding their sales goals.
The thing of it is, however, that my scholarship really was a life-saver…but not mine. It actually helped keep the sales educator alive. Because, if I hadn’t needed a high grade to maintain my academic standing, I’d have done some major harm to him on the spot for wasting my valuable time, with nary a second thought.
That’s it for today folks.
Adios
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
BloggeRhythms 6/29/2010
Following on from yesterday, I’ll use myself as an example again. Going back to my educational roots, no one in the system ever really sought to question why I was a poor student by their standards, and had a bad attitude to boot. Their goals were to insure they could not be blamed for my lack of caring, or assuring they could duck any finger pointed at them, writing me off as incorrigible at best. Yet, they couldn’t explain, no matter, why I did so well on their written tests.
Now, my first time around at the college level, I had a good job besides. And in fact, thought I had a good employment future to boot. So, I cared quite little about who won the Peloponnesian War or that tuna didn’t come from Tunisia. In fact, I thought tuna came from a deli –on rye. So, I soon dropped out of school.
But, then, I ran into problems. After I got married my father-in-law couldn’t cope with having a successful, but non-formally educated clod wed to his daughter. So he pressured me every chance he got, which was often, to finish my schooling. At the time I was in sales, selling fork lift trucks, and who did I encounter one day? None other than my former pool-playing and basketball partner Mike F. from CCNY.
Among other things Mike brought me up to date on was that he was attending college, downtown at NYU. So, I did some research on the school, thought going there might make some sense, and applied. When they turned me down in a heartbeat, I liked them even better, because they’d demonstrated good sense. I wouldn’t have let me in either. But, being in sales and persistent, I tried to negotiate a deal.
In time, the arrangement they finally agreed to was that I would take a series of courses, and if I achieved particular pre-established grades, they’d let me matriculate, they’d also let me keep the grade-points toward a degree. The courses were a mix of business and liberal arts, with no sleep-through “gut” classes in the list.
Now that I had a challenge on the line, and a huge goal at the end (quieting my father-in law) I actually hit the books. The result was all aces, an “A” in every single course. Soon after that, I met another guy, Eddie B, whose situation was similar to mine. Married, carrying a full course load on top of a job and still earning top grades, he’d applied for a scholastic scholarship and won it, suggesting I try the same.
So, I wound up pleasing everyone in the loop, including myself, and had a series of scholarship grantors paying my freight to boot.
But, what really allowed much of this to happen? And this is where education comes in. Most importantly, I think was that I really wanted to go to school this time around, regardless of the reason. But, that wasn’t enough. To be taught properly, you need real educators and that’s what I got at NYU downtown at Washington Square.
Sure, there were a few “Professors” who thought they were teaching liberal arts under a tree or on the lawn at Harvard, Princeton or Yale. But you could suck it up, grit your teeth and get through their elitist babble with good grades; after all, although those guys were pompous, they were only glorified teachers, so how clever could they be? Not very. What’s more, they had no street-smarts, they were PhD’s. So I survived them too, especially because a full-scholarship hung in the balance.
The real education, though, was on the business side, where the folks, from instructors on up, usually worked the trade they taught and succeeded in the toughest market in the world, Manhattan. And that made them actual, productive, experts in the most competitive arena there is, as well as scholars. Most of them even spoke the same business language I did. So, on top of all else, I respected and liked them.
In some advanced classes there weren’t even texts. For example, the guy who taught top-level classes in advertising was a full professor indeed; but he became one simply because he liked to teach. His real everyday job though was running a couple of key accounts for a major ad firm, where he handled clients like Coke and Buick.
Now, would you rather learn from some ivory tower intellect turning pages from the age old text he wrote or had ghosted by some MBA candidate, or have your professor say “Okay guys, here’s what we did at the office this afternoon. It’s a new campaign that’ll sell a billion dollars worth of stuff for Revlon, and here’s how I won the account. So, get out your notebooks.”
Throughout my studies at NYU, one thing became crystal clear. The school was so good and the education so valuable because the goal on both sides of the coin was learning itself. There was a caring, meaningful effort to get something worthy accomplished, not a conveyor belt designed to push as many bodies through as possible. And, if anyone, staff, student or whoever else in the loop couldn’t hack it they were toast in a New York minute. Beyond that, if you did blow out for whatever reason, whether faculty or student, nobody cared. There were plenty of others waiting who’d kill for the chance to take your place.
So, in that way, I think my original point gets validated. When people want to accomplish there’s a good chance they can do it. Even me. If they care and strive, perhaps get help where it’s needed, they can win. But, when an educational system’s in place that has no objective other than an annual increase in budget, and the hang-dog go through the motions attitudes are obvious from miles away, how can any student be motivated to accomplish anything, except for those few who stimulate themselves? Unless it’s a foreign émigré who’d crawl through burning coals for a chance to succeed in the USA, much less do their homework.
In the end though, I truly believe that no matter the quality of business education, it’s an enhancement at best, and certainly not an answer to success. Because, as I wrote above, when I attended college the second time to get my degree, I was also selling fork lift trucks. I owned a home, had two cars and a swimming pool and still in my twenties was earning substantially more than any of the academics who were “teaching” me. By American standards, that’s a big bite of the dream.
Beyond that, up to and including a senior vice presidency at AT&T Capital Corporation, managing and responsible for a staff of 125 salespeople across the nation, I recall many potential and eventual employers diligently combing my business track record and credentials. Yet, I don’t remember a single one asking me if or where I ever went to college.
That’s it for today folks.
Adios
Now, my first time around at the college level, I had a good job besides. And in fact, thought I had a good employment future to boot. So, I cared quite little about who won the Peloponnesian War or that tuna didn’t come from Tunisia. In fact, I thought tuna came from a deli –on rye. So, I soon dropped out of school.
But, then, I ran into problems. After I got married my father-in-law couldn’t cope with having a successful, but non-formally educated clod wed to his daughter. So he pressured me every chance he got, which was often, to finish my schooling. At the time I was in sales, selling fork lift trucks, and who did I encounter one day? None other than my former pool-playing and basketball partner Mike F. from CCNY.
Among other things Mike brought me up to date on was that he was attending college, downtown at NYU. So, I did some research on the school, thought going there might make some sense, and applied. When they turned me down in a heartbeat, I liked them even better, because they’d demonstrated good sense. I wouldn’t have let me in either. But, being in sales and persistent, I tried to negotiate a deal.
In time, the arrangement they finally agreed to was that I would take a series of courses, and if I achieved particular pre-established grades, they’d let me matriculate, they’d also let me keep the grade-points toward a degree. The courses were a mix of business and liberal arts, with no sleep-through “gut” classes in the list.
Now that I had a challenge on the line, and a huge goal at the end (quieting my father-in law) I actually hit the books. The result was all aces, an “A” in every single course. Soon after that, I met another guy, Eddie B, whose situation was similar to mine. Married, carrying a full course load on top of a job and still earning top grades, he’d applied for a scholastic scholarship and won it, suggesting I try the same.
So, I wound up pleasing everyone in the loop, including myself, and had a series of scholarship grantors paying my freight to boot.
But, what really allowed much of this to happen? And this is where education comes in. Most importantly, I think was that I really wanted to go to school this time around, regardless of the reason. But, that wasn’t enough. To be taught properly, you need real educators and that’s what I got at NYU downtown at Washington Square.
Sure, there were a few “Professors” who thought they were teaching liberal arts under a tree or on the lawn at Harvard, Princeton or Yale. But you could suck it up, grit your teeth and get through their elitist babble with good grades; after all, although those guys were pompous, they were only glorified teachers, so how clever could they be? Not very. What’s more, they had no street-smarts, they were PhD’s. So I survived them too, especially because a full-scholarship hung in the balance.
The real education, though, was on the business side, where the folks, from instructors on up, usually worked the trade they taught and succeeded in the toughest market in the world, Manhattan. And that made them actual, productive, experts in the most competitive arena there is, as well as scholars. Most of them even spoke the same business language I did. So, on top of all else, I respected and liked them.
In some advanced classes there weren’t even texts. For example, the guy who taught top-level classes in advertising was a full professor indeed; but he became one simply because he liked to teach. His real everyday job though was running a couple of key accounts for a major ad firm, where he handled clients like Coke and Buick.
Now, would you rather learn from some ivory tower intellect turning pages from the age old text he wrote or had ghosted by some MBA candidate, or have your professor say “Okay guys, here’s what we did at the office this afternoon. It’s a new campaign that’ll sell a billion dollars worth of stuff for Revlon, and here’s how I won the account. So, get out your notebooks.”
Throughout my studies at NYU, one thing became crystal clear. The school was so good and the education so valuable because the goal on both sides of the coin was learning itself. There was a caring, meaningful effort to get something worthy accomplished, not a conveyor belt designed to push as many bodies through as possible. And, if anyone, staff, student or whoever else in the loop couldn’t hack it they were toast in a New York minute. Beyond that, if you did blow out for whatever reason, whether faculty or student, nobody cared. There were plenty of others waiting who’d kill for the chance to take your place.
So, in that way, I think my original point gets validated. When people want to accomplish there’s a good chance they can do it. Even me. If they care and strive, perhaps get help where it’s needed, they can win. But, when an educational system’s in place that has no objective other than an annual increase in budget, and the hang-dog go through the motions attitudes are obvious from miles away, how can any student be motivated to accomplish anything, except for those few who stimulate themselves? Unless it’s a foreign émigré who’d crawl through burning coals for a chance to succeed in the USA, much less do their homework.
In the end though, I truly believe that no matter the quality of business education, it’s an enhancement at best, and certainly not an answer to success. Because, as I wrote above, when I attended college the second time to get my degree, I was also selling fork lift trucks. I owned a home, had two cars and a swimming pool and still in my twenties was earning substantially more than any of the academics who were “teaching” me. By American standards, that’s a big bite of the dream.
Beyond that, up to and including a senior vice presidency at AT&T Capital Corporation, managing and responsible for a staff of 125 salespeople across the nation, I recall many potential and eventual employers diligently combing my business track record and credentials. Yet, I don’t remember a single one asking me if or where I ever went to college.
That’s it for today folks.
Adios
Monday, June 28, 2010
BloggeRhythms 6/28/2010
Day before yesterday I wrote about a pool game played while attending CCNY. In reading it back I realized that I displayed a rather distasteful attitude toward “formal” education. And, if I did that, I want to be certain that I make myself clear. I really don’t have a distasteful attitude toward formal education, I simply have no use for it at all.
Now, my attitude isn’t just some random comment that rolls off my tongue, or in this case, fingers. It comes from long-time, day in-day out, experience. Because you see, I was a troublesome student, but for very good reason. While I can document my IQ and it’s sufficient as educable, I have a low tolerance for tedium and bore extremely quickly.
So, while school curricula are geared to the lowest denominator to be sure to be understood and remembered by all, especially the teachers, I generally need only one quick read and want to either move out or move on. Consequently, while classes droned on repeating the same drivel again and again, my mind had a tendency to wander or sleep. Bad combination when dealing with “teachers.”
Throughout my so-called formal education, a continual problem cropped up, confounding educators as well as administrators. I turned in almost no homework, never participated in class, and the only interface I had with teachers was when they had some kind of disciplinary fault with me. So, they all wondered, how can someone who seems to be on some other planet when in class do so well on exams?
The answer was, the pap they were spouting was so simple it took little or no time or effort to memorize or grasp it –provided I listened at all.
The oddest part of my educational travails was that I didn’t attend lesser schools. In fact, to some they're not only outstanding, but arguably the best around. First, PS 6 in Manhattan, on 85th and Madison perhaps the finest public school in not only the city, but everywhere else as well. Then on to Stuyvesant -one of the three top-rated public high schools in New York City. To this day, people pay specialist tutors to try to give their offspring an edge in getting in. Of course, if that fails, there’s always the option of bribes.
Then it was Baruch School at CCNY where I was accepted without question, but then did myself in the lounge on a very bad day for my pool game. And that reminded me of my pool-playing friend Mike F, whom I met attending college the first time around, and then again later on. Resulting in my attending college again, but that's a future story.
But, why bring this up now? Because day after day, week after week, month after month and so on, we keep throwing good money after bad in an attempt to “fix" the educational system in the U.S. but our aim’s a bit off. The “system” so to speak is probably fine, and the curricula, though quite watered down, can probably be improved rather soon. What needs to be totally replaced, however, are all the current administrators and so-called “teachers” top to bottom.
And a good first step toward replacement, without which we’re wasting our time, is the removal of tenure. Because, just like civil servants and government employees, when jobs are protected no matter –no one gives a damn about how they’re performed.
So, using the forgoing as a foundation, I'll continue these thoughts later on. Because, as I wrote beforehand, I think I can use myself to prove my point. And, if not, I guess I'll have to go back to school, where if somone reads this to them, they can tell me where I went wrong.
That's it for today folks.
Adios
Now, my attitude isn’t just some random comment that rolls off my tongue, or in this case, fingers. It comes from long-time, day in-day out, experience. Because you see, I was a troublesome student, but for very good reason. While I can document my IQ and it’s sufficient as educable, I have a low tolerance for tedium and bore extremely quickly.
So, while school curricula are geared to the lowest denominator to be sure to be understood and remembered by all, especially the teachers, I generally need only one quick read and want to either move out or move on. Consequently, while classes droned on repeating the same drivel again and again, my mind had a tendency to wander or sleep. Bad combination when dealing with “teachers.”
Throughout my so-called formal education, a continual problem cropped up, confounding educators as well as administrators. I turned in almost no homework, never participated in class, and the only interface I had with teachers was when they had some kind of disciplinary fault with me. So, they all wondered, how can someone who seems to be on some other planet when in class do so well on exams?
The answer was, the pap they were spouting was so simple it took little or no time or effort to memorize or grasp it –provided I listened at all.
The oddest part of my educational travails was that I didn’t attend lesser schools. In fact, to some they're not only outstanding, but arguably the best around. First, PS 6 in Manhattan, on 85th and Madison perhaps the finest public school in not only the city, but everywhere else as well. Then on to Stuyvesant -one of the three top-rated public high schools in New York City. To this day, people pay specialist tutors to try to give their offspring an edge in getting in. Of course, if that fails, there’s always the option of bribes.
Then it was Baruch School at CCNY where I was accepted without question, but then did myself in the lounge on a very bad day for my pool game. And that reminded me of my pool-playing friend Mike F, whom I met attending college the first time around, and then again later on. Resulting in my attending college again, but that's a future story.
But, why bring this up now? Because day after day, week after week, month after month and so on, we keep throwing good money after bad in an attempt to “fix" the educational system in the U.S. but our aim’s a bit off. The “system” so to speak is probably fine, and the curricula, though quite watered down, can probably be improved rather soon. What needs to be totally replaced, however, are all the current administrators and so-called “teachers” top to bottom.
And a good first step toward replacement, without which we’re wasting our time, is the removal of tenure. Because, just like civil servants and government employees, when jobs are protected no matter –no one gives a damn about how they’re performed.
So, using the forgoing as a foundation, I'll continue these thoughts later on. Because, as I wrote beforehand, I think I can use myself to prove my point. And, if not, I guess I'll have to go back to school, where if somone reads this to them, they can tell me where I went wrong.
That's it for today folks.
Adios
Sunday, June 27, 2010
BloggeRhythms 6/27/2010
There's still thousands of gallons of oil pouring into the Gulf and another new plan in the works to fix it. And, every day, more people show up with their hand out to get some kind of payout from the disaster -whether their claims are valid or not. But, the part that I wonder about is the other side of the coin.
The more these groups, such as environmentalists jump up and down to point out how much oil has leaked into the water, from only one well, one has to wonder how much oil is really there under the sea all told? It's got to be billions and billions of barrels beyond what drillers have access to already.
That means these same environmentalist's trying to protect the duck-billed, purple, three-toed-mugwump have us paying as much as $3.50 a gallon for gas that ought to cost about thirty-five cents at the pump. And if we sat back and looked at the problem of environmentalism effectively, we'd realize that by adding about a nickel to every gallon sold, we'd be able to build each mugwump a new state-of-the-art home in a secluded, lovely neighborhood somewhere else with guards at the gate for protection after transporting them there free-of-charge.
But no, not us. We'd rather say no drilling at all around U.S. waters and make Arab sultans richer than Croesus and let guys like Soros do backroom deals that'll add another few billion to his stash, less whatever he kicks back to our politicians.
For a population that used to be rated at the very top in intellectual pursuits, when you look at the giant rip-off we're faced with here you have to wonder just how really far our educational system has forced us to fall. We not only don't see the forest for the trees, we don't even see the trees themselves. It's no wonder this country's broke.
That's it for today folks.
Adios
The more these groups, such as environmentalists jump up and down to point out how much oil has leaked into the water, from only one well, one has to wonder how much oil is really there under the sea all told? It's got to be billions and billions of barrels beyond what drillers have access to already.
That means these same environmentalist's trying to protect the duck-billed, purple, three-toed-mugwump have us paying as much as $3.50 a gallon for gas that ought to cost about thirty-five cents at the pump. And if we sat back and looked at the problem of environmentalism effectively, we'd realize that by adding about a nickel to every gallon sold, we'd be able to build each mugwump a new state-of-the-art home in a secluded, lovely neighborhood somewhere else with guards at the gate for protection after transporting them there free-of-charge.
But no, not us. We'd rather say no drilling at all around U.S. waters and make Arab sultans richer than Croesus and let guys like Soros do backroom deals that'll add another few billion to his stash, less whatever he kicks back to our politicians.
For a population that used to be rated at the very top in intellectual pursuits, when you look at the giant rip-off we're faced with here you have to wonder just how really far our educational system has forced us to fall. We not only don't see the forest for the trees, we don't even see the trees themselves. It's no wonder this country's broke.
That's it for today folks.
Adios
Saturday, June 26, 2010
BloggeRhythms 6/26/2010
Same old news, over and over. Makes for boring blogs. So, it's back to stories.
I started working at a very young age. From about fourteen on, I worked summers and after school. Then, in my spare time, mostly weekends and holidays I got in sports and golf. Evenings were left for my other major pastimes, mostly poker and shooting pool, and if my golf game was hurting, the driving range.
So, by the time I got to college I worked out my schedule to attend early morning classes and leave as many free afternoons as I could. That enabled me to hold down an afternoon job and keep my evenings free as well. Now, poker and pool were important to me not so much because of my love of playing, but frankly, I needed the money.
True, I had friends that played for fun, but the only laughing I did was later when by myself at home, counting my winnings where nobody saw me. And, I really didn't do much laughing there either, because, although I'm not really superstitious, why take a chance on irritating the fates -there's absolutely no upside percentage in that.
My first time around at college I attended CCNY's Baruch School of Business on 23rd Street and Lex in Manhattan. And that's where I met Mike and Richie F., identical twins from the Bronx. Both were tall, rangy, quick, and smooth as silk on the basketball courts but their real forte was shooting pool. Any kind of money ball. Chicago, eight or nine ball and games like that.
If I played hooky from work, there was a pool table in the student lounge and the twins and I used it. And if it was taken by others we'd head over to Julien's a famous old-time billiard parlor on East 14th street.
Well, one afternoon the twins and I were in the lounge playing a game called Chicago where the 1, 5, 8, 10, 13 and 15 are money balls or "ways" and each worth a pre-set amount, say a dime, quarter, dollar or whatever is decided upon.
When you have three players, whoever sinks the one ball plays alone and the other two become partners, alternating their turns. At the end, each player or duo, aside from the worth of the money-balls they've sunk also adds up the total number of balls they've pocketed and gets another two ways for score. If any individual sinks all the money balls, that's a "personal" and the others each pay him double value of everything.
Sometime during that afternoon a student came into the lounge, saw our game and asked if he could join us. We replied. Sure. Why not? Now we had a four-man game which meant that whomever sank the one-ball was joined by whomever made the next money-ball, the five. If the same guy sank the one and the five, he'd partner with whomever sank the eight, and so-on.
The game went on for a while, and because there's a lot of luck involved in a game like Chicago, much more-so than in straight pool or nine-ball, the wins and losses tended to even out fairly often, so not a lot of cash permanently changed hands. Now, naturally, good shooters still have an advantage, sometimes huge, but since the balls have to be sunk in order, skill is frequently offset by fortune.
Somewhat later that afternoon, the twins told us they had to leave and headed off for home. That left me and the newcomer at the table. He asked if I wanted to hang around and play some more pool. I had no reason not to agree. We kept playing the same game, Chicago, and in time raised the stakes.
I really don't remember a lot about him as far as specific physical characteristics go, but I have a vague recollection that his hair was blond. What I do recall clearly though was his size. He was built like Lyle Alzedo, infamous defensive end for the Oakland Raiders of the NFL. Except, this guy was taller and also wider above the waist. So, with most of his 250 or 260 pounds or so in his chest, arms and shoulders he had long spindly legs which I assumed also meant he was fast.
Anyway, our game went on and this was one of those days where I witnessed either the longest run of good luck at Chicago I'd ever seen, or had been taken in spades by a consummate hustler who was deftly good at his trade. But, either way, I was bisected, dissected, cooked and worst of all -tapped out. And to top it off I was not only out of money, but for a few of the last games I'd played "light." In other words, I'd borrowed against expected winnings that never came and now was in his debt big-time.
Finally I told him that this just wasn't my day and I'd had enough so I was going home. But, I promised that I'd surely see him in school real soon and pay him what I owed. That's when he said we'd both been attending the same school for a year or so and never seen each other before, so he didn't want to take the chance of our not meeting again, even at a pre-arranged place. What if I didn't show up? I told him not to worry, I'd be there. I swore. "But, for now I don't have a cent so it doesn't matter, I can't pay you today in any case."
That's when he told me I had some hidden assets that were worth what I owed him, perhaps even a few dollars more. "Like what?" I asked him. He replied, "Your books." Then he marched me to Barnes & Noble on 23rd Street, negotiated the sale, and took off with his winnings, leaving me a couple of bucks over. That's what I used to get home.
The funny thing about it all looking back, is that although school and formal education became a problem for me that year, the hustler I ran into gave me a real life lesson I've never forgotten worth considerably more than whatever those books held. Because, if you're dumb enough to walk into situations that are that far over your head, there aren't enough books on the planet to teach you what the real world's all about.
That's it for today folks.
Adios
I started working at a very young age. From about fourteen on, I worked summers and after school. Then, in my spare time, mostly weekends and holidays I got in sports and golf. Evenings were left for my other major pastimes, mostly poker and shooting pool, and if my golf game was hurting, the driving range.
So, by the time I got to college I worked out my schedule to attend early morning classes and leave as many free afternoons as I could. That enabled me to hold down an afternoon job and keep my evenings free as well. Now, poker and pool were important to me not so much because of my love of playing, but frankly, I needed the money.
True, I had friends that played for fun, but the only laughing I did was later when by myself at home, counting my winnings where nobody saw me. And, I really didn't do much laughing there either, because, although I'm not really superstitious, why take a chance on irritating the fates -there's absolutely no upside percentage in that.
My first time around at college I attended CCNY's Baruch School of Business on 23rd Street and Lex in Manhattan. And that's where I met Mike and Richie F., identical twins from the Bronx. Both were tall, rangy, quick, and smooth as silk on the basketball courts but their real forte was shooting pool. Any kind of money ball. Chicago, eight or nine ball and games like that.
If I played hooky from work, there was a pool table in the student lounge and the twins and I used it. And if it was taken by others we'd head over to Julien's a famous old-time billiard parlor on East 14th street.
Well, one afternoon the twins and I were in the lounge playing a game called Chicago where the 1, 5, 8, 10, 13 and 15 are money balls or "ways" and each worth a pre-set amount, say a dime, quarter, dollar or whatever is decided upon.
When you have three players, whoever sinks the one ball plays alone and the other two become partners, alternating their turns. At the end, each player or duo, aside from the worth of the money-balls they've sunk also adds up the total number of balls they've pocketed and gets another two ways for score. If any individual sinks all the money balls, that's a "personal" and the others each pay him double value of everything.
Sometime during that afternoon a student came into the lounge, saw our game and asked if he could join us. We replied. Sure. Why not? Now we had a four-man game which meant that whomever sank the one-ball was joined by whomever made the next money-ball, the five. If the same guy sank the one and the five, he'd partner with whomever sank the eight, and so-on.
The game went on for a while, and because there's a lot of luck involved in a game like Chicago, much more-so than in straight pool or nine-ball, the wins and losses tended to even out fairly often, so not a lot of cash permanently changed hands. Now, naturally, good shooters still have an advantage, sometimes huge, but since the balls have to be sunk in order, skill is frequently offset by fortune.
Somewhat later that afternoon, the twins told us they had to leave and headed off for home. That left me and the newcomer at the table. He asked if I wanted to hang around and play some more pool. I had no reason not to agree. We kept playing the same game, Chicago, and in time raised the stakes.
I really don't remember a lot about him as far as specific physical characteristics go, but I have a vague recollection that his hair was blond. What I do recall clearly though was his size. He was built like Lyle Alzedo, infamous defensive end for the Oakland Raiders of the NFL. Except, this guy was taller and also wider above the waist. So, with most of his 250 or 260 pounds or so in his chest, arms and shoulders he had long spindly legs which I assumed also meant he was fast.
Anyway, our game went on and this was one of those days where I witnessed either the longest run of good luck at Chicago I'd ever seen, or had been taken in spades by a consummate hustler who was deftly good at his trade. But, either way, I was bisected, dissected, cooked and worst of all -tapped out. And to top it off I was not only out of money, but for a few of the last games I'd played "light." In other words, I'd borrowed against expected winnings that never came and now was in his debt big-time.
Finally I told him that this just wasn't my day and I'd had enough so I was going home. But, I promised that I'd surely see him in school real soon and pay him what I owed. That's when he said we'd both been attending the same school for a year or so and never seen each other before, so he didn't want to take the chance of our not meeting again, even at a pre-arranged place. What if I didn't show up? I told him not to worry, I'd be there. I swore. "But, for now I don't have a cent so it doesn't matter, I can't pay you today in any case."
That's when he told me I had some hidden assets that were worth what I owed him, perhaps even a few dollars more. "Like what?" I asked him. He replied, "Your books." Then he marched me to Barnes & Noble on 23rd Street, negotiated the sale, and took off with his winnings, leaving me a couple of bucks over. That's what I used to get home.
The funny thing about it all looking back, is that although school and formal education became a problem for me that year, the hustler I ran into gave me a real life lesson I've never forgotten worth considerably more than whatever those books held. Because, if you're dumb enough to walk into situations that are that far over your head, there aren't enough books on the planet to teach you what the real world's all about.
That's it for today folks.
Adios
Friday, June 25, 2010
BloggeRhythms 6/25/2010
I write two kinds of stuff. My recent books are fiction while my blog either reports or repeats fact. One of the most difficult aspects for authors of fiction is creating stories, characters and situations that, while made up from thin air, seem to have a basis or relationship to fact. Of course there are those who write about space aliens, science fiction, fairy tales and such other fantasies, but I'm not one of them.
The reason I'm starting today's entry this way is, that lately, while I'm sitting here wracking my brain to create fiction that resembles fact for my novels, the news is full of stories that are fact, but beyond anyone's imagination. I mean, no matter how hard one tried, I don't think you could make this stuff up. Especially what comes out of D.C. If I put stories like these in my books, they'd probably lock me up for lunacy.
Yesterday General McChrystal stepped down from his job of heading our action in Afghanistan because he told the truth about how we're mis-handling the war to Rolling Stone magazine. He then went on to list what was needed to win. Since the truth was unbecoming to the so-called Commander-in-Chief, he asked for, and got, McChrystal's resignation. Now today, I was flipping channels and see a blurb that says General Petraeus is announcing a new strategy in Afghanistan. And what is it? Why it's McChrystal's very plan that he told to the press.
But, not to worry. I think McChrystal will wind up on Fox TV like Detective Mark Fuhrman from the O.J. trial and also write a couple of best-selling books.
Then there's Harold Hurtt, a former police chief in Houston and Phoenix, who's been hired as the director for the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement's Office of State and Local Coordination, starting July 6. When he was chief of police he favored leaving illegal immigrants alone unless they seriously broke the law. He said it took too much manpower and time for a busy police department to deal with illegals. So in effect he was saying it was somebody else's job to send illegals home. Now, he's at the top of the whole issue and says not to worry. He'll do a good job protecting our borders.
In the same vein, the current Chief of Police of Phoenix said it doesn't look good for the war on drugs coming out of Mexico because (now get this one) the cartel heads have issued a warning. They said they're using state-of-the-art AK47's and have the police out-gunned. So, if the cops know what's good for them, they better not put up a fight. Now, according to the police chief, the cartel guys are right because his department doesn't have enough budget to out-gun the thugs. I guess it's like Yakov Smirnoff, the Russian comedian said "What a country."
Then there's Illinois's "Rod" Blagojevich. He's asked that a host of Dem's testify at his trial for selling government favors, including White House chief of staff, Rahm Emanuel. Since this involves the Chicago machine that's notorious for corruption there's a glimmer that this might go further up. The president's already testified on tape, but not under oath in court. (Gee, why did I just get a mind-flash of Bill Clinton?) I guess I'll have to stay tuned on that one.
So, like I said at the start, it's a shame I can't use any of this stuff for my books, because nobody would believe it. But, then again if I did use it after all, maybe they'd lock us all up together. Then, when my sentence was over, I'd have enough to write a whole library of books about what these guys do in the real world and call it fiction. Who knows. I might become the next Stephen King.
That's it for today folks.
Adios
The reason I'm starting today's entry this way is, that lately, while I'm sitting here wracking my brain to create fiction that resembles fact for my novels, the news is full of stories that are fact, but beyond anyone's imagination. I mean, no matter how hard one tried, I don't think you could make this stuff up. Especially what comes out of D.C. If I put stories like these in my books, they'd probably lock me up for lunacy.
Yesterday General McChrystal stepped down from his job of heading our action in Afghanistan because he told the truth about how we're mis-handling the war to Rolling Stone magazine. He then went on to list what was needed to win. Since the truth was unbecoming to the so-called Commander-in-Chief, he asked for, and got, McChrystal's resignation. Now today, I was flipping channels and see a blurb that says General Petraeus is announcing a new strategy in Afghanistan. And what is it? Why it's McChrystal's very plan that he told to the press.
But, not to worry. I think McChrystal will wind up on Fox TV like Detective Mark Fuhrman from the O.J. trial and also write a couple of best-selling books.
Then there's Harold Hurtt, a former police chief in Houston and Phoenix, who's been hired as the director for the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement's Office of State and Local Coordination, starting July 6. When he was chief of police he favored leaving illegal immigrants alone unless they seriously broke the law. He said it took too much manpower and time for a busy police department to deal with illegals. So in effect he was saying it was somebody else's job to send illegals home. Now, he's at the top of the whole issue and says not to worry. He'll do a good job protecting our borders.
In the same vein, the current Chief of Police of Phoenix said it doesn't look good for the war on drugs coming out of Mexico because (now get this one) the cartel heads have issued a warning. They said they're using state-of-the-art AK47's and have the police out-gunned. So, if the cops know what's good for them, they better not put up a fight. Now, according to the police chief, the cartel guys are right because his department doesn't have enough budget to out-gun the thugs. I guess it's like Yakov Smirnoff, the Russian comedian said "What a country."
Then there's Illinois's "Rod" Blagojevich. He's asked that a host of Dem's testify at his trial for selling government favors, including White House chief of staff, Rahm Emanuel. Since this involves the Chicago machine that's notorious for corruption there's a glimmer that this might go further up. The president's already testified on tape, but not under oath in court. (Gee, why did I just get a mind-flash of Bill Clinton?) I guess I'll have to stay tuned on that one.
So, like I said at the start, it's a shame I can't use any of this stuff for my books, because nobody would believe it. But, then again if I did use it after all, maybe they'd lock us all up together. Then, when my sentence was over, I'd have enough to write a whole library of books about what these guys do in the real world and call it fiction. Who knows. I might become the next Stephen King.
That's it for today folks.
Adios
Thursday, June 24, 2010
BloggeRhythms 6/24/2010
The biggest thing in the news is watching this General McChrystal thing play out and seeing the facts slowly come to the top. It seems there are two wars being fought simultaneously in Afghanistan, one political and one shooting. Although McChrystal apparently did himself in to a great extent via his comments to Rolling Stone, he was originally programmed to fail by Karl W. Eikenberry, a predecessor in Afghanistan and now ambassador to that nation.
When Eikenberry left Afghanistan it seems he leaked two memos to the press. One said he thought a troop buildup would hurt the U.S. by making the Afghans too dependent on us. The other was in a similar vein designed to cover his tail when the whole eventual U.S. plan fell apart. In that regard, one of his strongest allies was Joe Biden. However, when the troop buildup seemed to be helping, he pulled in his horns, preferring to work in the background.
Looking at all of this, I realized that sometimes it takes a while for things to sink in, but sooner or later, even I can figure them out. Because, while this whole to-do about General McChrystal has had me and everyone else focused on Afghanistan, the real war’s going to be in the United States on Tuesday, November 6, 2012 when America goes to the polls to elect a new President.
The way things look right now, Obama’s going to go down in flames that will probably be seen as far away as Pluto. And Biden’s an unelectable dunce beyond hope. So, who else can the Dem’s put up? Hillary? Forget it. That beat up, old retread hasn’t a prayer. So that leaves a wide open door for the Republicans to run a slam-dunk winner – General David H. Petraeus. Because, right now, what the U.S. needs above all is an expert in national defense, international affairs and anti-terrorism. The rest of the Republican party will correct the immigration fiasco and our economics.
Just look at his credentials. Born November 7, 1952, he’s only 58 years old. But here’s what he’s done so far:
*United States Army general and current Commander of the United States Central Command.
*Previously served as Commanding General of Multi-National Force in Iraq. January, 2007 to September, 2008, overseeing all coalition forces in Iraq.
*BS from the United States Military Academy, graduating in 1974 as a distinguished cadet in the top 5% of his class.
*General George C. Marshall Award winner as the top graduate of the U.S. Army Command and General Staff College class of 1983.
*Earned M.P.A. in 1985 and a Ph.D. in International Relations in 1987 from the Woodrow Wilson School of Public and International Affairs at Princeton.
*Served as Assistant Professor of International Relations at the United States Military Academy and also completed a fellowship at Georgetown University.
So, academically, militarily and intellectually this guy’s exactly the kind of guy the U.S. needs right now. And, politically he’s a genius. He’s just become the commander of all armed forces in Afghanistan, replacing McChrystal to boot, and done so without a whimper of dissension so far. And as far as Congressional confirmation goes, that should be a slam dunk because he testifies every couple of months and the Armed Services Committee loves him.
The only potential weakness is his gruffness towards Israel, but that may have been simply “following orders” from the White House like a good soldier’s supposed to. If not, the Israeli’s are still better off with him than they are with Obama or Hillary.
Now I realize that my prediction is early, and two years is still a while away. But. I just wanted to go on record, because I think the scenario makes absolute political sense. And just to add some icing to that cake by showing how little Obama and his friends know about the military and weapons, I think with Petraeus’ promotion, the president just shot himself in the foot.
If you want to see his career try Wikipedia, I think you'll find it remarkably impressive: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Petraeus (Sorry-you have to copy and paste)
That's it for today folks.
Adios
When Eikenberry left Afghanistan it seems he leaked two memos to the press. One said he thought a troop buildup would hurt the U.S. by making the Afghans too dependent on us. The other was in a similar vein designed to cover his tail when the whole eventual U.S. plan fell apart. In that regard, one of his strongest allies was Joe Biden. However, when the troop buildup seemed to be helping, he pulled in his horns, preferring to work in the background.
Looking at all of this, I realized that sometimes it takes a while for things to sink in, but sooner or later, even I can figure them out. Because, while this whole to-do about General McChrystal has had me and everyone else focused on Afghanistan, the real war’s going to be in the United States on Tuesday, November 6, 2012 when America goes to the polls to elect a new President.
The way things look right now, Obama’s going to go down in flames that will probably be seen as far away as Pluto. And Biden’s an unelectable dunce beyond hope. So, who else can the Dem’s put up? Hillary? Forget it. That beat up, old retread hasn’t a prayer. So that leaves a wide open door for the Republicans to run a slam-dunk winner – General David H. Petraeus. Because, right now, what the U.S. needs above all is an expert in national defense, international affairs and anti-terrorism. The rest of the Republican party will correct the immigration fiasco and our economics.
Just look at his credentials. Born November 7, 1952, he’s only 58 years old. But here’s what he’s done so far:
*United States Army general and current Commander of the United States Central Command.
*Previously served as Commanding General of Multi-National Force in Iraq. January, 2007 to September, 2008, overseeing all coalition forces in Iraq.
*BS from the United States Military Academy, graduating in 1974 as a distinguished cadet in the top 5% of his class.
*General George C. Marshall Award winner as the top graduate of the U.S. Army Command and General Staff College class of 1983.
*Earned M.P.A. in 1985 and a Ph.D. in International Relations in 1987 from the Woodrow Wilson School of Public and International Affairs at Princeton.
*Served as Assistant Professor of International Relations at the United States Military Academy and also completed a fellowship at Georgetown University.
So, academically, militarily and intellectually this guy’s exactly the kind of guy the U.S. needs right now. And, politically he’s a genius. He’s just become the commander of all armed forces in Afghanistan, replacing McChrystal to boot, and done so without a whimper of dissension so far. And as far as Congressional confirmation goes, that should be a slam dunk because he testifies every couple of months and the Armed Services Committee loves him.
The only potential weakness is his gruffness towards Israel, but that may have been simply “following orders” from the White House like a good soldier’s supposed to. If not, the Israeli’s are still better off with him than they are with Obama or Hillary.
Now I realize that my prediction is early, and two years is still a while away. But. I just wanted to go on record, because I think the scenario makes absolute political sense. And just to add some icing to that cake by showing how little Obama and his friends know about the military and weapons, I think with Petraeus’ promotion, the president just shot himself in the foot.
If you want to see his career try Wikipedia, I think you'll find it remarkably impressive: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Petraeus (Sorry-you have to copy and paste)
That's it for today folks.
Adios
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