This house of cards we refer to as our society's current belief system is crumbling. The cloak of deception upon which that belief system is based is unraveling. Everything you've been told, believe and accept to be true about many aspects of reality is being challenged and exposed as simply false and wrong.
Priests are being exposed as predators. Politicians are being exposed as agenda-driven individualists rather than selfless public servants. Everything we believe is "progress" is unsustainable and is propelling our planet towards extinction. Everything you believe is "medicine" is often a set of untested drugs that unbalance the body's natural systems and cause more side effects than the illnesses they purport to cure.
Everything you believe is "food" is a concoction of chemically laden substances that are unusable by the body, deprive it of nutrients and its natural ability to heal.
Everything you believe is "economic growth through capitalism" is actually a money-grab that benefits only a select few at the expense of everyone else.
Everything you believe is "justice" is a punitive, revenge-focused, violence-based system of thought and action that support a prison industry designed to enrich its owners.
Everything you've been told are the "random" events of history might actually have been orchestrated.
Everything you believe to be "news" is opinion and, in many cases, completely contrived and staged.
Everything you're told to strive for in pursuit of success and freedom actually leads to failure and servitude.
Everything you've been told, and believe to be good, normal and necessary, desirable, ethical and moral are being revealed to be their exact opposites.
At the same time, everything you've been told and thus believe to be "evil sinful, impossible, absurd and abnormal" might actually be good, ethical, plausible, logical, quite normal and, in fact, in your best interest to explore, once truth is revealed.
The list goes on. Our beliefs about science, democracy, religion, government, education, the causes of war, the reasons behind assassinations, the existence of life on other planets, the origin of mankind, sexuality and various other concepts, ideas institutions and world views-all are being subjected to the onslaught of new questions and analyses and activism as people discover them to be other than what they've been led to believe.
They realize in many instances, that what they believe to be true is nothing more than a set of subjective ideas put forth by people who really don't have a handle on truth, don't know what they're doing, or worse, don't have your best interests at heart-people who are playing by a faulty rulebook or, worse, with no rule book at all.
Advertising = Education
Uninformed ideas, blind assumptions and outright lies underlie much of the education you received and advertising you are subjected to. In some instances, of course, education and advertising are one in the same. Take, for instance, the "education" you received in school about health and for instance the benefits of a meat-centered diet. These typically come from pamphlets created by a meat council-a conglomeration of meat producers-with a financial interest at stake (or at steak).
I'm sure you're familiar with many of these assumptions: that milk does a body good; that meat is real food for real people; that cancer can't be cured; that the common cold is inevitable; that allergies can only be relieved not ended; and that drugs these companies are pushing heal and aren't, in fact, more dangerous than the ills they claim to cure, given the extensive list of (sometimes fatal) side effects warned of in the disclaimers.
The sales pitches for these products start with these assumptions and are never challenged. As a result, people buy into them (key word "buy"), and continue a vicious cycle perpetuating the very lifestyle that caused their ills.
The end result: Why all this matters
"Every day, people are attempting to influence your purchases, sway your allegiance, stoke your emotions and win your vote, using numbers and "facts" that are simply not true. Without the correct information, you will be their victim."
Why is this important? Well, without the correct paradigm for your body and how it operates, you will find that health eludes you despite your best efforts at eating healthy and living a healthy lifestyle. Without the correct paradigm for health and how to achieve it, you will find that as you "cure" one ailment you create another.
If I believed, for example, that "milk does a body good," and then acted on that belief (by drinking lots of milk) in an effort to improve my health, I might find myself experiencing colds, mucous, allergies, weakened bones and cancer, and eventually become frustrated in my efforts without ever knowing the real reason why: that the dairy products we've been told are beneficial, are, in fact poison to our systems (and the numbers prove it)!
When you live in a world where everything you believe... is wrong, then without the correct information, facts and numbers, you will compromise your health, your safety, make generally poor decisions and put yourself and others at risk and in harm's way.
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/8822836
Thursday, 3 March 2016
Life and Times at Lake Conroe 2
Monday, April 6, 2009, changed the course of my life, here in the Lake Conroe area. And it really opened my eyes to the realities of the workplace. I had been sick with the common flu that was going around, at the time, and had taken a few days off work. I was surprised that I'd gotten over it so quickly. Others had come down with pneumonia, after that flu went around. But I, like my mother before me, have a bad habit of pushing myself and ignoring discomfort. If I were able to get out of bed, I would be at work. No matter what. I had noticed that I'd been rather tired, lately. I hadn't quite bounced back from the flu. I had been sleeping more than usual and got dizzy at work. I found myself breaking into a strange sweat at odd times. The kind of sweat that said a fever had broken. But I was unaware that I'd been running a fever. I only knew I got hotter than other people did. Working six nights a week gave me little time to think about it. And not a whole lot of time for rest or getting other things done. During those first few days in April, I noticed pains in my chest and realized I was having trouble breathing. I attributed it to pollen in the air and my smoking habit. I tried to quit smoking, but managed only to cut back to lights, and less than a pack a day.
On April 6, I was halfway to work, when my left arm went to sleep on me, while I was driving. Then my chest started cramping, and I felt a little dizzy. I thought, for a short while, that I was going to have to pull over. My only thought, though was I HAVE TO GET TO WORK.
I pulled in right at 6:00 pm. Just as I shut off the engine, those cramps in my chest became sharp pains. The dizziness was worse. I felt completely out of it. I took a deep breath to steady myself, and went on inside and clocked in.
Karim and Raj were doing price changes on the wines, and had put me in charge of collecting the bottles from the shelves and returning the ones that had been changed. I couldn't quite see. Things were going blurry on me. Dizziness swept over me, but I simply grabbed the counter to steady myself until the moment passed. Raj thought I was just tired and was joking with me about lack of sleep. I simply smiled and continued. I tried to ignore what I was feeling, but my legs began to feel weak.
At 6:15, I was hit with severe chest pains that doubled me over. At the same time, my left arm went completely numb, and everything went white. I felt the floor move. I couldn't breathe. I fell back against the counter and developed tunnel vision. I was aware of only what was right in front of me. And barely even that. I allowed myself to sink slowly to the floor, to avoid simply hitting it hard. I fought to keep from passing out. I was only vaguely aware of Raj asking me, "Melissa, are you okay? Should I call 9-1-1?"
"I think you should," I answered.
Then Karim ran in, from the office. He'd seen it on the cameras. "What's going on?" Raj explained, just as a customer rush hit. Karim immediately turned to the register and he and Raj began taking customers. I was ignored. I vaguely remember Raj reaching for the phone, and Karim pulling him back to the register. I heard several customers ask if they were going to call 9-1-1. Karim kept saying he would. But then he'd go on to the next customer.
I was, by then, lying fully on the floor, staring at the white tiles. Karim was stepping over me and around me to get cigarettes for the customers. I thought I was having a heart attack. The thought entered my mind that I could die right there, literally at the feet of my boss, and no one would even know, until my body was being carried out. My thoughts turned to Sedona. I saw her face so clearly in my mind. All I could think was: She's expecting me to come get her, at the end of the school year. What will she do, if I died? She lost her real father at the age of two, and never really knew him. If I died, she'd be an orphan. She'd have to be raised by someone else. I thought of the bond between my daughter and me. A bond no one else really seems to understand. And many don't really believe there is one. I wanted to cry, thinking I was about to die, and would never see my Sweet Pea again. Thinking she hadn't seen me, since January 10th, and the next time she sees me will be in a casket.
That was the moment I heard a voice I recognized. One of my regular customers, whose name I cannot remember. "Are you gonna call 9-1-1?"
Karim responded, "I'll call them. What can I get for you?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he said, "What's the address here? I'm calling for her."
Karim's voice sounded worried, as he responded, "We will call."
"When?" came the question.
"In a moment."
Again, that customer, said, this time more firmly, "What is the address here? I'm calling for her RIGHT NOW!"
I heard Raj give him the address. A moment later, I heard this customer making the call. I couldn't move. I had no strength. When the customer came around the counter to approach me, still on his cell phone, I saw Karim move to intercept him. Customers are not supposed to be behind the counter. This man, who, at that moment, I saw as my saving grace, shot Karim a deadly glare and kept walking toward me. He knelt beside me. Vaguely, I was able to answer the questions asked. When he got off the phone, he took my hand. "I'm staying right here with you, Melissa, until they get here. Okay?" I saw him glance angrily up at Karim, then back at me. "Okay?" he repeated, when I didn't respond. I could only nod. He kept me awake and aware, until the paramedics arrived, about five minutes later.
At 6:32 pm, I was in the ambulance, hooked up to heart monitors, oxygen, and a fluid I.V. drip. On my way to Conroe Medical Center. At the hospital, they took blood samples, and did an EKG on my heart. I only vaguely remember it.
6:50 pm, a sharp pain hit my chest, and I got the shakes so bad, the nurses thought I was having a seizure. I heard one nurse report, "Her heart-rate just jumped from 88 beats-per-minute to 166! Her temp is 106!" I started to hyperventilate. "Oh my God!" that nurse shouted. "She's going into shock!"
I don't remember that next hour in the ER. I only remember suddenly opening my eyes and looking at the clock. It was 7:45 pm. My fever was down to 99 degrees, and I was back to some semblance of normality. They had run other tests, during this hour. And had discovered that I had not had a heart attack, and it wasn't a stroke. Apparently, they'd thought that, as well. I managed to send a text message to my brother's friend, Bobby, explaining the situation. So that he could go by the house to get David, my brother. Then he could take David to the store to pick up my van.
After another hour, they did another EKG, just to make sure nothing had changed with my heart. Another precautionary measure to ensure it wasn't even a mild heart attack. Then they sent me into X-Ray. And by 10:15 pm, they finally determined what my problem was. I had a bronchial infection so severe it was about to become pneumonia. The consequence of not paying attention to my body, and pushing myself too hard. They gave me some medicine and a strong breathing treatment, and sent me home at 10:45 pm with a prescription for antibiotics.
The eye-opener for me, on that day, was the knowledge that I am completely disposable. Not just dispensable, but disposable. I could have died, right there on that floor, not six inches from Karim's feet. And all he could think of was the customer rush. Money to be gained. If it had been a heart attack, I would be dead. And it would not have mattered, at all. I would have been replaced, the very next day. I began to wonder where my life is going. What have I done with my life? Have things really gotten better? How could I have found myself working for someone for whom the quality of life means absolutely NOTHING?
I spent the next few days at home, in bed. Karim wouldn't let me return to work, even with the doctor's note. My fever kept spiking to over 104, and I spent many sleepless nights, soaking my head in cold water, and bathing my face with a cold washcloth. I started taking Nyquil to reduce my fever, so I could get some sleep. During a time when I should have been resting, I was using my energy trying to keep my fever from rising too high. I made another realization: I am more alone than I thought. I had gotten so used to helping others and taking care of others, and I forget about myself. There is no one to stand by me. No one to take care of me, if something happens. How did I end up so alone?
By the end of the week, my thoughts began to turn to my customers. I knew no one else took care of my regulars like I did. No one else would stay open a little later, while a customer decided which beer he wanted, or which bag of chips his pregnant wife craved tonight. No one else cared about the customers as people and individuals. I wasn't totally well yet, and already I was back in the "service mindset".
I found things changed, when I went back to work. Suddenly, in Karim's eyes, I could do nothing right. He started watching me on the security cameras at his house, and calling me at odd times, to complain about something I hadn't done. Even if I had a line of customers, from beginning of shift, to end, it didn't matter. I wasn't busy enough. I wasn't selling enough. I had stopped doing the extras that helped the girl who opened in the mornings, because Karim was putting extra pressure on me, to do more on my shift. When I stopped doing her job for her, she began to complain. Suddenly, those "extras" I had been doing were now part of my job list. Yet when Raj closed, he didn't have to do them. Only I did. The printer began acting up, making closing more difficult, adding an extra 10 minutes to my time. Karim complained that I wasn't closing early enough to account for it. Then he began complaining in front of customers, berating me, humiliating me, in front of customers.
Finally, on May 14th, things came to a head between Karim and me. He started in on me, as soon as I clocked in. Ignoring the line of customers, he began berating me over something I didn't do, the night before. Something that was supposed to be done on opening, not closing. I can't even remember what it was now. But I got so angry, I began to tremble. I had grown tired of his verbal abuse, and lost it. I began arguing back. This surprised him, because I got right in his face. I can't even remember what was said, because I was so angry I blanked out. I only remember that I caught myself drawing back to punch him. And stopped. I told him, "You know what? I'm leaving!" And walked out.
I was nearly out of the parking lot, when he stopped me. "If you're leaving and not coming back," he said, "I need your keys."
I didn't even look at him, I removed the store keys from my keychain and removed my nametag from my shirt. He looked at me, surprised. I reached out to hand these to him. He only looked at my hand, then back at me. Instead of taking them, he asked, "What's the problem?"
I looked him in the eye, my rage still boiling beneath the surface. He stepped back. "YOU'RE the problem, Karim!" I shot at him. My barely-controlled rage was so all consuming that even my voice trembled. I realized, in that moment, how much I had come to hate this man. "Ever since I collapsed that day, lying there AT YOUR FEET, you've done nothing but nit-pick at me."
So he began, again, pointing out everything I was doing wrong. I simply nodded, and pushed the keys and nametag toward him. He looked at them, then stood up. "Come back in, if you want," he said. Then he went back inside.
I sat there and thought about it. I knew I had to keep this job, until Sedona came back. If I got another job, right then, I wouldn't be able to take the time off to go get her. I gritted my teeth, parked the van, and went back inside.
Raj didn't look at me or speak to me. He didn't even say goodbye, before he left for the day. He only looked at me in fear. None of them had ever seen me THAT angry.
I simply took my faux-military "at-ease" stance by the register. Acknowledging no one, except my customers. But, to them, I was as friendly as ever. I heard Karim in his office, speaking in Urdu on his cell phone. I knew, from what little I understood, that he was telling someone about what just happened. I refused to look at him, when he came back in.
It took a good hour for me to begin to calm down. But, when I did, I decided to apologize to Karim. Not for what I said. Nor the fact that I'd stood up for myself. But for the way I had handled it. Because that wasn't like me, at all. He apologized, as well. Then he told me, "Raj is putting in about 10 hours a day. I'm going to have him work nights. You will be floating between this store and the other one. Three days here, and three days there. I don't know what your schedule will be or when it will start."
I smiled at him for the first time, in weeks. He looked confused. "That'd work out," I told him. "The other store is a bit closer than this one. I won't have quite so far to drive." He looked shocked, then relaxed. That's when we discussed my taking off at month's end, so I could go get Sedona. He actually seemed relieved, then relaxed more. For the next few days, I was actually courteous to Karim, and began laughing and joking with Raj again.
Then Karim surprised me again. He actually gave me a choice: I could be a floater, with my shifts rotating, or I could just take the night shift at the other store. I was elated! Continue with the same company, but not have to deal with Karim, at all? Yeah, buddy! And I started at Quick Mart Exxon on Monday, May 18th.
The first thing I noticed, when I first got to work, that night, was no one else was in uniform. It was casual-dress. The manager there is Ali. And the first thing he said to me was, "You will find I am not like Karim." I liked him, immediately.
"Karim said I could keep my Tuesdays off," I mentioned.
"Yes," he said. "Is this what you want?"
I nodded, then talked to him about my days off to get Sedona.
He agreed, then asked, "Is there anything else you need?"
"No," I said quietly.
"You will find I am amendable," Ali said, with a friendly smile. "If you need something, let me know." I nodded. "You know you will get less pay, here." I looked at him, questioningly. "I can pay you $7.50 per hour."
"Okay."
Ali smiled at me, again, putting his hand on my shoulder. It was a genuinely friendly smile. "You will find it easier, here." I remembered this man had been in the hospital, just under a month before, after a mild heart attack. Brought on by the stress of his job. But so many people had told me he was friendly and easy-going. I only smiled back.
The man who would train me came in, right then. Michael. Oddly, the same age as my nephew named Michael. Strangely, after being around him, I realized he reminded me a lot of my nephew. But when Michael first came in, and Ali introduced us, he added, "But do not make her mad." Then he laughed. "Karim said she has a temper."
I looked at him. "He told you about that, huh?"
Ali laughed again, patting my back. "We will not make you mad, Melissa."
Michael shook his head, laughing,. "My ex-wife is a redhead. I know all about those tempers." I liked him, immediately, too. I felt at home at Quick Mart.
Thursday, May 28th, David and I left to meet our cousin in Jackson, Mississippi, to pick up Sedona. That, though is another story. I was back at work on Tuesday, June 2nd. But on Wednesday, June 3rd, I got grim news.
Aftab, the true owner of both stores, was there, when I came into work. He informed me that money is tight, and they were having to make cutbacks. That meant cutting out the middle shift, and putting Michael on closing. This left the floater position. It was a choice between me and the girl who was floating. Aftab had left the choice to Ali. Ali chose to keep me. This meant my entire schedule had changed.
Open at Lake Conroe on Saturdays. Open at Quick Mart on Sundays. Afternoon shift at Quick Mart on Mondays. Tuesdays off. Close at Lake Conroe on Wednesdays. Close at Quick Mart on Thursdays. Afternoon shift at Lake Conroe on Fridays.
And I was informed that same day that changes were about to take place. Karim would be taking over Quick Mart, and Ali would be taking over Lake Conroe. The Lake Conroe crew would move to Quick Mart and the Quick Mart crew would move to Lake Conroe. I shrugged it off. I didn't think it would affect me, one way, or the other. Boy, was I ever wrong!
On Wednesday, June 17th, when I went into work at Lake Conroe Exxon, Karim introduced me to a Pakistani man named Jay. He told me Jay was in training, and I would be helping to train him on closing. Later, I watched Jay sifting through paperwork in the office, and asked Karim, "So, who IS he?"
Karim gave me one of those self-satisfied smirks. "He came from Chicago. He's going to be taking over this store. I'm training him how to run it."
I looked at him in confusion. "I thought Ali was coming here. You and Ali were going to trade places."
Karim only shrugged with that smirk, and said nothing more.
I stood back, after Karim left and the rush was over, to watch Jay handle the register. I went about doing my side work. It was easier to get it all done quickly, since I wasn't dealing with the customers. Jay told me, at one point, "I'm going to rely on you to teach me about things around here."
I looked at him. "I don't know how much help I'll be. I'm floating between the stores."
He and I talked a bit. That "getting to know you" chitchat people do, when they're new. Close to the end of the shift, he mentioned the fact that Quick Mart does better business than Lake Conroe Exxon. "Why do you think that is, Melissa?"
"The other store is closer to the best access to the lake. People naturally come in there, when they're heading to the lake, and when they're coming back from it."
Jay chewed on that thought a moment. Finally, he asked me, "What do you think would make things better, here?"
Without even having to think, I responded, "Better customer service."
He looked confused. "Explain, please."
I shrugged. "I've listened to so many customers complain about the customer service they receive here. These people end up becoming customers of Valero." I stepped to the window. "Look at what surrounds this store, Jay." I glanced at him. "We have Walgreen's right behind us. Walmart right across the street. Valero just down the street. All of them offer better prices. Lower prices, than we do. But they keep coming here only at certain times of the day. That's because they will pay a little more for better customer service."
He looked at me thoughtfully. "Who are they complaining about?" I only looked at him. "Off the record," he added.
I glanced up at one of the cameras, knowing that Karim was probably watching. "Off the record?" I gave a little sarcastic chuckle, and shook my head.
Jay looked up at the camera, then back at me. "Ah," was all he said.
On Saturday, June 20th, I opened Lake Conroe Exxon. Karim was a little late coming in, that day, and let me leave at 11:30 am. The last thing he said to me, as I was leaving was, "Jay is going to be changing your schedule. He'll call you, to let you know."
Odd, I thought, but put it out of my mind.
Sunday, I opened at Quick Mart, and when Michael came in, I asked him about the changes that were coming. "Have you met Jay, yet?"
"Who's Jay?" he asked.
"He's the guy that's taking over Lake Conroe Exxon."
Michael stared at me. "Ali's taking it over."
"That's what I was told, until I met Jay on Wednesday," I told him. And we talked about Jay. Since he's the man who will be Michael's boss, I figured he needed to know. Obviously, I knew more than he did. So, when I came in on Monday, for my afternoon shift, I asked Ali about it all.
Ali only looked at me. "Why is this Jay changing your schedule?"
I shrugged. That didn't matter to me. "Where will YOU be going, Ali?"
He stared at the desk, but didn't answer.
Later in the shift, I had a problem with the gas pumps, so went to the office to consult Ali. He was on the phone with someone, and speaking Urdu. From what little I understood, it sounded to me like Ali had not been informed of this change, either. I wondered about that. But, when I asked him, again, later, "Where will YOU be going?", he only said, "I don't know."
Tuesday was my day off. It was around 6:00 pm, that I got a call from Jay. "We're not going to need you tomorrow night. I need to try and close, on my own."
I had a sinking feeling. "What about Friday?" I asked.
He consulted with Karim, then asked, "What was your schedule here?"
"Open Saturday, close Wednesday, 4:00-9:00 pm on Friday."
"We won't need you on Friday, either. In fact, not for the rest of the week. I'll call you about next week."
"Uh-huh," was my response. As I hung up the phone, I knew my time was up at Lake Conroe Exxon. This is Karim's way of letting someone go. I immediately called Ali, to make sure I was still closing on Thursday.
"Yes, please," was his response. "Why you ask me this?"
I explained what I'd just been told. He told me to keep my schedule there at Quick Mart.
I spent Wednesday putting in applications around Willis.
On Saturday, June 27th, I went into Lake Conroe Exxon to collect my little one-day check. Jay and Karim were both extra-nice to me, but neither would really look at me. Karim stayed in the corner behind the register. I stood there, after collecting my pay, waiting for one of them to say something about the store keys. Neither would say anything. Karim kept backing away, glancing at me. Jay barely spoke. I knew, if I headed for the door, one of them would ask for the keys, as if it were a last-minute thought. I'd seen Karim pull this before. So I chatted with Karim about the weather, smiling and being friendly. Finally, I outright asked him, "So, do you want the keys or not?"
Karim stepped behind Jay, looking away from me, as he said, "Yes, I think so."
I smiled, as I handed them over. Both of them seemed surprised that the keys were already off my keychain. "I knew you wanted them." Karim stepped back again. I shrugged and smiled, "Well, I knew you didn't need me here, anymore."
Karim quietly asked, "You're still at the other store?"
I nodded. "For now."
He gave me that self-satisfied smirk, as he said, "You know I'm about to take over that store."
Again, I nodded. "I know. That's why I said 'for now'."
He looked slightly confused. "If we need you, we'll call you. We still have your number."
I smiled, thinking: I won't hold my breath.
I stopped at Quick Mart, to collect my pay, there. I asked Ali, "Am I still working here? Because they let me go at Lake Conroe."
He looked upset for a moment, then said, "Continue your schedule here."
So my adventures at Lake Conroe Exxon have ended. My short job at Quick Mart will soon end. And I search for another job.
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/8832626
On April 6, I was halfway to work, when my left arm went to sleep on me, while I was driving. Then my chest started cramping, and I felt a little dizzy. I thought, for a short while, that I was going to have to pull over. My only thought, though was I HAVE TO GET TO WORK.
I pulled in right at 6:00 pm. Just as I shut off the engine, those cramps in my chest became sharp pains. The dizziness was worse. I felt completely out of it. I took a deep breath to steady myself, and went on inside and clocked in.
Karim and Raj were doing price changes on the wines, and had put me in charge of collecting the bottles from the shelves and returning the ones that had been changed. I couldn't quite see. Things were going blurry on me. Dizziness swept over me, but I simply grabbed the counter to steady myself until the moment passed. Raj thought I was just tired and was joking with me about lack of sleep. I simply smiled and continued. I tried to ignore what I was feeling, but my legs began to feel weak.
At 6:15, I was hit with severe chest pains that doubled me over. At the same time, my left arm went completely numb, and everything went white. I felt the floor move. I couldn't breathe. I fell back against the counter and developed tunnel vision. I was aware of only what was right in front of me. And barely even that. I allowed myself to sink slowly to the floor, to avoid simply hitting it hard. I fought to keep from passing out. I was only vaguely aware of Raj asking me, "Melissa, are you okay? Should I call 9-1-1?"
"I think you should," I answered.
Then Karim ran in, from the office. He'd seen it on the cameras. "What's going on?" Raj explained, just as a customer rush hit. Karim immediately turned to the register and he and Raj began taking customers. I was ignored. I vaguely remember Raj reaching for the phone, and Karim pulling him back to the register. I heard several customers ask if they were going to call 9-1-1. Karim kept saying he would. But then he'd go on to the next customer.
I was, by then, lying fully on the floor, staring at the white tiles. Karim was stepping over me and around me to get cigarettes for the customers. I thought I was having a heart attack. The thought entered my mind that I could die right there, literally at the feet of my boss, and no one would even know, until my body was being carried out. My thoughts turned to Sedona. I saw her face so clearly in my mind. All I could think was: She's expecting me to come get her, at the end of the school year. What will she do, if I died? She lost her real father at the age of two, and never really knew him. If I died, she'd be an orphan. She'd have to be raised by someone else. I thought of the bond between my daughter and me. A bond no one else really seems to understand. And many don't really believe there is one. I wanted to cry, thinking I was about to die, and would never see my Sweet Pea again. Thinking she hadn't seen me, since January 10th, and the next time she sees me will be in a casket.
That was the moment I heard a voice I recognized. One of my regular customers, whose name I cannot remember. "Are you gonna call 9-1-1?"
Karim responded, "I'll call them. What can I get for you?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he said, "What's the address here? I'm calling for her."
Karim's voice sounded worried, as he responded, "We will call."
"When?" came the question.
"In a moment."
Again, that customer, said, this time more firmly, "What is the address here? I'm calling for her RIGHT NOW!"
I heard Raj give him the address. A moment later, I heard this customer making the call. I couldn't move. I had no strength. When the customer came around the counter to approach me, still on his cell phone, I saw Karim move to intercept him. Customers are not supposed to be behind the counter. This man, who, at that moment, I saw as my saving grace, shot Karim a deadly glare and kept walking toward me. He knelt beside me. Vaguely, I was able to answer the questions asked. When he got off the phone, he took my hand. "I'm staying right here with you, Melissa, until they get here. Okay?" I saw him glance angrily up at Karim, then back at me. "Okay?" he repeated, when I didn't respond. I could only nod. He kept me awake and aware, until the paramedics arrived, about five minutes later.
At 6:32 pm, I was in the ambulance, hooked up to heart monitors, oxygen, and a fluid I.V. drip. On my way to Conroe Medical Center. At the hospital, they took blood samples, and did an EKG on my heart. I only vaguely remember it.
6:50 pm, a sharp pain hit my chest, and I got the shakes so bad, the nurses thought I was having a seizure. I heard one nurse report, "Her heart-rate just jumped from 88 beats-per-minute to 166! Her temp is 106!" I started to hyperventilate. "Oh my God!" that nurse shouted. "She's going into shock!"
I don't remember that next hour in the ER. I only remember suddenly opening my eyes and looking at the clock. It was 7:45 pm. My fever was down to 99 degrees, and I was back to some semblance of normality. They had run other tests, during this hour. And had discovered that I had not had a heart attack, and it wasn't a stroke. Apparently, they'd thought that, as well. I managed to send a text message to my brother's friend, Bobby, explaining the situation. So that he could go by the house to get David, my brother. Then he could take David to the store to pick up my van.
After another hour, they did another EKG, just to make sure nothing had changed with my heart. Another precautionary measure to ensure it wasn't even a mild heart attack. Then they sent me into X-Ray. And by 10:15 pm, they finally determined what my problem was. I had a bronchial infection so severe it was about to become pneumonia. The consequence of not paying attention to my body, and pushing myself too hard. They gave me some medicine and a strong breathing treatment, and sent me home at 10:45 pm with a prescription for antibiotics.
The eye-opener for me, on that day, was the knowledge that I am completely disposable. Not just dispensable, but disposable. I could have died, right there on that floor, not six inches from Karim's feet. And all he could think of was the customer rush. Money to be gained. If it had been a heart attack, I would be dead. And it would not have mattered, at all. I would have been replaced, the very next day. I began to wonder where my life is going. What have I done with my life? Have things really gotten better? How could I have found myself working for someone for whom the quality of life means absolutely NOTHING?
I spent the next few days at home, in bed. Karim wouldn't let me return to work, even with the doctor's note. My fever kept spiking to over 104, and I spent many sleepless nights, soaking my head in cold water, and bathing my face with a cold washcloth. I started taking Nyquil to reduce my fever, so I could get some sleep. During a time when I should have been resting, I was using my energy trying to keep my fever from rising too high. I made another realization: I am more alone than I thought. I had gotten so used to helping others and taking care of others, and I forget about myself. There is no one to stand by me. No one to take care of me, if something happens. How did I end up so alone?
By the end of the week, my thoughts began to turn to my customers. I knew no one else took care of my regulars like I did. No one else would stay open a little later, while a customer decided which beer he wanted, or which bag of chips his pregnant wife craved tonight. No one else cared about the customers as people and individuals. I wasn't totally well yet, and already I was back in the "service mindset".
I found things changed, when I went back to work. Suddenly, in Karim's eyes, I could do nothing right. He started watching me on the security cameras at his house, and calling me at odd times, to complain about something I hadn't done. Even if I had a line of customers, from beginning of shift, to end, it didn't matter. I wasn't busy enough. I wasn't selling enough. I had stopped doing the extras that helped the girl who opened in the mornings, because Karim was putting extra pressure on me, to do more on my shift. When I stopped doing her job for her, she began to complain. Suddenly, those "extras" I had been doing were now part of my job list. Yet when Raj closed, he didn't have to do them. Only I did. The printer began acting up, making closing more difficult, adding an extra 10 minutes to my time. Karim complained that I wasn't closing early enough to account for it. Then he began complaining in front of customers, berating me, humiliating me, in front of customers.
Finally, on May 14th, things came to a head between Karim and me. He started in on me, as soon as I clocked in. Ignoring the line of customers, he began berating me over something I didn't do, the night before. Something that was supposed to be done on opening, not closing. I can't even remember what it was now. But I got so angry, I began to tremble. I had grown tired of his verbal abuse, and lost it. I began arguing back. This surprised him, because I got right in his face. I can't even remember what was said, because I was so angry I blanked out. I only remember that I caught myself drawing back to punch him. And stopped. I told him, "You know what? I'm leaving!" And walked out.
I was nearly out of the parking lot, when he stopped me. "If you're leaving and not coming back," he said, "I need your keys."
I didn't even look at him, I removed the store keys from my keychain and removed my nametag from my shirt. He looked at me, surprised. I reached out to hand these to him. He only looked at my hand, then back at me. Instead of taking them, he asked, "What's the problem?"
I looked him in the eye, my rage still boiling beneath the surface. He stepped back. "YOU'RE the problem, Karim!" I shot at him. My barely-controlled rage was so all consuming that even my voice trembled. I realized, in that moment, how much I had come to hate this man. "Ever since I collapsed that day, lying there AT YOUR FEET, you've done nothing but nit-pick at me."
So he began, again, pointing out everything I was doing wrong. I simply nodded, and pushed the keys and nametag toward him. He looked at them, then stood up. "Come back in, if you want," he said. Then he went back inside.
I sat there and thought about it. I knew I had to keep this job, until Sedona came back. If I got another job, right then, I wouldn't be able to take the time off to go get her. I gritted my teeth, parked the van, and went back inside.
Raj didn't look at me or speak to me. He didn't even say goodbye, before he left for the day. He only looked at me in fear. None of them had ever seen me THAT angry.
I simply took my faux-military "at-ease" stance by the register. Acknowledging no one, except my customers. But, to them, I was as friendly as ever. I heard Karim in his office, speaking in Urdu on his cell phone. I knew, from what little I understood, that he was telling someone about what just happened. I refused to look at him, when he came back in.
It took a good hour for me to begin to calm down. But, when I did, I decided to apologize to Karim. Not for what I said. Nor the fact that I'd stood up for myself. But for the way I had handled it. Because that wasn't like me, at all. He apologized, as well. Then he told me, "Raj is putting in about 10 hours a day. I'm going to have him work nights. You will be floating between this store and the other one. Three days here, and three days there. I don't know what your schedule will be or when it will start."
I smiled at him for the first time, in weeks. He looked confused. "That'd work out," I told him. "The other store is a bit closer than this one. I won't have quite so far to drive." He looked shocked, then relaxed. That's when we discussed my taking off at month's end, so I could go get Sedona. He actually seemed relieved, then relaxed more. For the next few days, I was actually courteous to Karim, and began laughing and joking with Raj again.
Then Karim surprised me again. He actually gave me a choice: I could be a floater, with my shifts rotating, or I could just take the night shift at the other store. I was elated! Continue with the same company, but not have to deal with Karim, at all? Yeah, buddy! And I started at Quick Mart Exxon on Monday, May 18th.
The first thing I noticed, when I first got to work, that night, was no one else was in uniform. It was casual-dress. The manager there is Ali. And the first thing he said to me was, "You will find I am not like Karim." I liked him, immediately.
"Karim said I could keep my Tuesdays off," I mentioned.
"Yes," he said. "Is this what you want?"
I nodded, then talked to him about my days off to get Sedona.
He agreed, then asked, "Is there anything else you need?"
"No," I said quietly.
"You will find I am amendable," Ali said, with a friendly smile. "If you need something, let me know." I nodded. "You know you will get less pay, here." I looked at him, questioningly. "I can pay you $7.50 per hour."
"Okay."
Ali smiled at me, again, putting his hand on my shoulder. It was a genuinely friendly smile. "You will find it easier, here." I remembered this man had been in the hospital, just under a month before, after a mild heart attack. Brought on by the stress of his job. But so many people had told me he was friendly and easy-going. I only smiled back.
The man who would train me came in, right then. Michael. Oddly, the same age as my nephew named Michael. Strangely, after being around him, I realized he reminded me a lot of my nephew. But when Michael first came in, and Ali introduced us, he added, "But do not make her mad." Then he laughed. "Karim said she has a temper."
I looked at him. "He told you about that, huh?"
Ali laughed again, patting my back. "We will not make you mad, Melissa."
Michael shook his head, laughing,. "My ex-wife is a redhead. I know all about those tempers." I liked him, immediately, too. I felt at home at Quick Mart.
Thursday, May 28th, David and I left to meet our cousin in Jackson, Mississippi, to pick up Sedona. That, though is another story. I was back at work on Tuesday, June 2nd. But on Wednesday, June 3rd, I got grim news.
Aftab, the true owner of both stores, was there, when I came into work. He informed me that money is tight, and they were having to make cutbacks. That meant cutting out the middle shift, and putting Michael on closing. This left the floater position. It was a choice between me and the girl who was floating. Aftab had left the choice to Ali. Ali chose to keep me. This meant my entire schedule had changed.
Open at Lake Conroe on Saturdays. Open at Quick Mart on Sundays. Afternoon shift at Quick Mart on Mondays. Tuesdays off. Close at Lake Conroe on Wednesdays. Close at Quick Mart on Thursdays. Afternoon shift at Lake Conroe on Fridays.
And I was informed that same day that changes were about to take place. Karim would be taking over Quick Mart, and Ali would be taking over Lake Conroe. The Lake Conroe crew would move to Quick Mart and the Quick Mart crew would move to Lake Conroe. I shrugged it off. I didn't think it would affect me, one way, or the other. Boy, was I ever wrong!
On Wednesday, June 17th, when I went into work at Lake Conroe Exxon, Karim introduced me to a Pakistani man named Jay. He told me Jay was in training, and I would be helping to train him on closing. Later, I watched Jay sifting through paperwork in the office, and asked Karim, "So, who IS he?"
Karim gave me one of those self-satisfied smirks. "He came from Chicago. He's going to be taking over this store. I'm training him how to run it."
I looked at him in confusion. "I thought Ali was coming here. You and Ali were going to trade places."
Karim only shrugged with that smirk, and said nothing more.
I stood back, after Karim left and the rush was over, to watch Jay handle the register. I went about doing my side work. It was easier to get it all done quickly, since I wasn't dealing with the customers. Jay told me, at one point, "I'm going to rely on you to teach me about things around here."
I looked at him. "I don't know how much help I'll be. I'm floating between the stores."
He and I talked a bit. That "getting to know you" chitchat people do, when they're new. Close to the end of the shift, he mentioned the fact that Quick Mart does better business than Lake Conroe Exxon. "Why do you think that is, Melissa?"
"The other store is closer to the best access to the lake. People naturally come in there, when they're heading to the lake, and when they're coming back from it."
Jay chewed on that thought a moment. Finally, he asked me, "What do you think would make things better, here?"
Without even having to think, I responded, "Better customer service."
He looked confused. "Explain, please."
I shrugged. "I've listened to so many customers complain about the customer service they receive here. These people end up becoming customers of Valero." I stepped to the window. "Look at what surrounds this store, Jay." I glanced at him. "We have Walgreen's right behind us. Walmart right across the street. Valero just down the street. All of them offer better prices. Lower prices, than we do. But they keep coming here only at certain times of the day. That's because they will pay a little more for better customer service."
He looked at me thoughtfully. "Who are they complaining about?" I only looked at him. "Off the record," he added.
I glanced up at one of the cameras, knowing that Karim was probably watching. "Off the record?" I gave a little sarcastic chuckle, and shook my head.
Jay looked up at the camera, then back at me. "Ah," was all he said.
On Saturday, June 20th, I opened Lake Conroe Exxon. Karim was a little late coming in, that day, and let me leave at 11:30 am. The last thing he said to me, as I was leaving was, "Jay is going to be changing your schedule. He'll call you, to let you know."
Odd, I thought, but put it out of my mind.
Sunday, I opened at Quick Mart, and when Michael came in, I asked him about the changes that were coming. "Have you met Jay, yet?"
"Who's Jay?" he asked.
"He's the guy that's taking over Lake Conroe Exxon."
Michael stared at me. "Ali's taking it over."
"That's what I was told, until I met Jay on Wednesday," I told him. And we talked about Jay. Since he's the man who will be Michael's boss, I figured he needed to know. Obviously, I knew more than he did. So, when I came in on Monday, for my afternoon shift, I asked Ali about it all.
Ali only looked at me. "Why is this Jay changing your schedule?"
I shrugged. That didn't matter to me. "Where will YOU be going, Ali?"
He stared at the desk, but didn't answer.
Later in the shift, I had a problem with the gas pumps, so went to the office to consult Ali. He was on the phone with someone, and speaking Urdu. From what little I understood, it sounded to me like Ali had not been informed of this change, either. I wondered about that. But, when I asked him, again, later, "Where will YOU be going?", he only said, "I don't know."
Tuesday was my day off. It was around 6:00 pm, that I got a call from Jay. "We're not going to need you tomorrow night. I need to try and close, on my own."
I had a sinking feeling. "What about Friday?" I asked.
He consulted with Karim, then asked, "What was your schedule here?"
"Open Saturday, close Wednesday, 4:00-9:00 pm on Friday."
"We won't need you on Friday, either. In fact, not for the rest of the week. I'll call you about next week."
"Uh-huh," was my response. As I hung up the phone, I knew my time was up at Lake Conroe Exxon. This is Karim's way of letting someone go. I immediately called Ali, to make sure I was still closing on Thursday.
"Yes, please," was his response. "Why you ask me this?"
I explained what I'd just been told. He told me to keep my schedule there at Quick Mart.
I spent Wednesday putting in applications around Willis.
On Saturday, June 27th, I went into Lake Conroe Exxon to collect my little one-day check. Jay and Karim were both extra-nice to me, but neither would really look at me. Karim stayed in the corner behind the register. I stood there, after collecting my pay, waiting for one of them to say something about the store keys. Neither would say anything. Karim kept backing away, glancing at me. Jay barely spoke. I knew, if I headed for the door, one of them would ask for the keys, as if it were a last-minute thought. I'd seen Karim pull this before. So I chatted with Karim about the weather, smiling and being friendly. Finally, I outright asked him, "So, do you want the keys or not?"
Karim stepped behind Jay, looking away from me, as he said, "Yes, I think so."
I smiled, as I handed them over. Both of them seemed surprised that the keys were already off my keychain. "I knew you wanted them." Karim stepped back again. I shrugged and smiled, "Well, I knew you didn't need me here, anymore."
Karim quietly asked, "You're still at the other store?"
I nodded. "For now."
He gave me that self-satisfied smirk, as he said, "You know I'm about to take over that store."
Again, I nodded. "I know. That's why I said 'for now'."
He looked slightly confused. "If we need you, we'll call you. We still have your number."
I smiled, thinking: I won't hold my breath.
I stopped at Quick Mart, to collect my pay, there. I asked Ali, "Am I still working here? Because they let me go at Lake Conroe."
He looked upset for a moment, then said, "Continue your schedule here."
So my adventures at Lake Conroe Exxon have ended. My short job at Quick Mart will soon end. And I search for another job.
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/8832626
Royal Mail: The End of Daily Deliveries?
Royal Mail has warned that its six days a week deliveries are potentially at risk due to intense competition from across the industry, from the likes of Amazon, which now delivers its own parcels, as well as smaller companies.
The Royal Mail, which can trace its roots back almost 500 years to 1516 and the reign of Henry VIII, and was floated on the Stock Exchange just over a year ago, has seen its profits fall by around £74m. In the six months to late September, profits plunged by a shade over a fifth from £353m to just under £279m. Now it says rivals are 'cherry picking' highly profitable business contracts which could threaten its daily delivery service, potentially making it no longer financially viable.
Parcels make up half of RM's turnover, and it fears that Amazon alone could cut growth in this market from 4 to 5% a year to 1 to 2% annually.
This month, shares in Royal Mail dipped by more than 8% to 43op, although when the FTSE-100 listed postal service company floated they were priced at 330p.
Unlike the competition, and under the Postal Services Act 2011 which allowed it to be privatised, RM is obliged to deliver to everyone across the UK for the same price, and this universal service was protected under the Act until at least 2021. Royal Mail Chief Executive Moya Greene has described this obligation as 'precious.' But now it is urging Ofcom, the industry regulator, to re-assess the rules.
Potential changes could mean RM only delivers five days a week, or gets given a subsidy. In many areas, last collections of the day are already being made at earlier times.
In particular, arch rival Whist, previously TNT, could see Royal Mail's revenue plummet by £200m in as little as three years. It now delivers to doorsteps in some bigger cities, but not in rural parts of the country or on a daily basis.
To add to Royal-Mail's woes, in the first half of the year, the volume of letters sent fell by 3%, although this was better than the expected 4-6% decrease, and revenue from letter deliveries rose by 1% as increased prices offset the fall in volume.
At the same time, Ms Greene insisted (RM) was "fully prepared" for Christmas, clearly the busiest time in Royal Mail's year, following heavy investment in new technology over the last three years.
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/8836985
The Royal Mail, which can trace its roots back almost 500 years to 1516 and the reign of Henry VIII, and was floated on the Stock Exchange just over a year ago, has seen its profits fall by around £74m. In the six months to late September, profits plunged by a shade over a fifth from £353m to just under £279m. Now it says rivals are 'cherry picking' highly profitable business contracts which could threaten its daily delivery service, potentially making it no longer financially viable.
Parcels make up half of RM's turnover, and it fears that Amazon alone could cut growth in this market from 4 to 5% a year to 1 to 2% annually.
This month, shares in Royal Mail dipped by more than 8% to 43op, although when the FTSE-100 listed postal service company floated they were priced at 330p.
Unlike the competition, and under the Postal Services Act 2011 which allowed it to be privatised, RM is obliged to deliver to everyone across the UK for the same price, and this universal service was protected under the Act until at least 2021. Royal Mail Chief Executive Moya Greene has described this obligation as 'precious.' But now it is urging Ofcom, the industry regulator, to re-assess the rules.
Potential changes could mean RM only delivers five days a week, or gets given a subsidy. In many areas, last collections of the day are already being made at earlier times.
In particular, arch rival Whist, previously TNT, could see Royal Mail's revenue plummet by £200m in as little as three years. It now delivers to doorsteps in some bigger cities, but not in rural parts of the country or on a daily basis.
To add to Royal-Mail's woes, in the first half of the year, the volume of letters sent fell by 3%, although this was better than the expected 4-6% decrease, and revenue from letter deliveries rose by 1% as increased prices offset the fall in volume.
At the same time, Ms Greene insisted (RM) was "fully prepared" for Christmas, clearly the busiest time in Royal Mail's year, following heavy investment in new technology over the last three years.
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/8836985
Wednesday, 2 March 2016
Eccentricity Is Not Abnormal Behaviour
Anything that is unusual, extraordinary or peculiar draws attention. Even if people consider someone to be odd in a repulsive way, they will talk about him/her. People who have unusual habits or carry themselves in a way that is not according to societal norms and current trends are usually labeled as "eccentric." Being eccentric though, is not a bad thing.
Not everyone has the ability to stand out in a crowd and those who manage to set themselves apart from society are often criticized. Most people are unable to accept the fact that someone does not conform to the values and beliefs that are perceived as normal. "Normalcy" however is a subjective matter. For example some may think that it is abnormal for a woman to remain single and live alone, furthermore the fact that she owns six cats puts her in the category of eccentric people. Others however may believe that marriage is a personal choice and would therefore be more empathetic towards her and her cats.
Somebody may be considered eccentric because of cultural differences. If an individual from a varied background is unable to adjust to the local culture then he/she may come across as odd. For example a Japanese girl who insists on wearing her kimono no matter where she goes, despite having moved to the US two years ago, will definitely draw oodles of attention. Similarly, upon moving to a new job certain adjustments in behavior and attitude are expected. Wearing casual flip-flops to work may be perfectly normal at one organization. Another organization may be willing to condone such an informal get up but other employees would still consider it strange and funny, and so the ill dressed new comer will become the butt of many jokes.
Often we find that society is quite cruel and judgmental towards individuals who are a little different. Terms such as "mental", "psycho" and "abnormal" tend to be used when referring to someone who has beliefs and/or behavior patterns which do not sit well with the general population. Examples of such eccentricities could be a man who conceals his acne with foundation, or a woman who is always seen wearing red lipstick and flashy clothes. Such attributes though should not socially limit these individuals. In an ideal world, the society would be tolerant of such peculiarities. What matters most is an individual's sincerity in his/her interactions and relations with others. If a person meets others in a congenial way and is genuine and honest, society should ideally not ostracize someone for being a bit strange or different.
The world however is far from ideal. Eccentricity is mostly categorized as abnormal behavior However, another point to realize is that the word abnormal simply means that something is not typical, or usual. Is being unusual really such a bad thing?
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/8950484
Not everyone has the ability to stand out in a crowd and those who manage to set themselves apart from society are often criticized. Most people are unable to accept the fact that someone does not conform to the values and beliefs that are perceived as normal. "Normalcy" however is a subjective matter. For example some may think that it is abnormal for a woman to remain single and live alone, furthermore the fact that she owns six cats puts her in the category of eccentric people. Others however may believe that marriage is a personal choice and would therefore be more empathetic towards her and her cats.
Somebody may be considered eccentric because of cultural differences. If an individual from a varied background is unable to adjust to the local culture then he/she may come across as odd. For example a Japanese girl who insists on wearing her kimono no matter where she goes, despite having moved to the US two years ago, will definitely draw oodles of attention. Similarly, upon moving to a new job certain adjustments in behavior and attitude are expected. Wearing casual flip-flops to work may be perfectly normal at one organization. Another organization may be willing to condone such an informal get up but other employees would still consider it strange and funny, and so the ill dressed new comer will become the butt of many jokes.
Often we find that society is quite cruel and judgmental towards individuals who are a little different. Terms such as "mental", "psycho" and "abnormal" tend to be used when referring to someone who has beliefs and/or behavior patterns which do not sit well with the general population. Examples of such eccentricities could be a man who conceals his acne with foundation, or a woman who is always seen wearing red lipstick and flashy clothes. Such attributes though should not socially limit these individuals. In an ideal world, the society would be tolerant of such peculiarities. What matters most is an individual's sincerity in his/her interactions and relations with others. If a person meets others in a congenial way and is genuine and honest, society should ideally not ostracize someone for being a bit strange or different.
The world however is far from ideal. Eccentricity is mostly categorized as abnormal behavior However, another point to realize is that the word abnormal simply means that something is not typical, or usual. Is being unusual really such a bad thing?
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/8950484
Liars, Liars, One and All
"Liar, liar, pants on fire" goes the childhood chant-and, oh, how many of us truth stretchers there actually are. And while most of us don't get called on the carpet for it, Brian Williams was not so lucky. The popular NBC news anchor captured relentless media attention, and, in the end, was forced to fall on his sword, so to speak, as he followed one lie with another.
Meanwhile, Judicial Watch recently uncovered U.S. State Department documents revealing that aides to then-Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, "knew from the outset that the Benghazi mission compound was under attack by armed assailants tied to a terrorist group." About that incident, though, she once said, "What difference does it make?"
And who can forget her saying that she "misspoke" and showed she's human when recalling her landing in Bosnia as First Lady. Her spin: She and daughter Chelsea were greeted by sniper fire, when in truth she was handed a poem by 8-year-old Emina Bicakcic.
The upshot: Williams received a six-month suspension without pay and has no credibility left. Clinton, on the other hand, may be the next president of the United States. Does the word Teflon come to mind?
At the same time, writes Michael Smerconish, "We all lie. I'll give Mother Teresa a pass, but that's it. Everyone else lies, and often our lies are self-aggrandizing; we're just trying to be better than we are."
So, yes, lies abound, but some simply matter more.
For instance, if I tell you that it's good to see you when it's not, no harm done. Same if I say I already have plans instead of flat out refusing your invite. And if my kid says he flushed the toilet, but didn't, no big deal. So-called white lies rarely have dire consequences.
Not so the other kind, the big, bad ones. Take the one recently revealed by David Axelrod, Obama's confidante and advisor. In his new book, Believer: My Forty Years in Politics, we learn that the President pretended to be opposed to gay marriage in the 2008 election. Could that have swayed some voters?
Unfortunately, that's only one in a string of documented presidential untruths. A quick Internet check tells that tale. Meanwhile, can any of us ever forget the one that goes, "If you like the health care plan you have, you can keep it."
Obama, of course, is not the only truth-stretching office holder. As the saying goes, "How can you tell a politician is lying? His lips are moving."
True or not, as already noted, the rest of us are at it, too--and we all get started early on. In fact, says researcher and professor of pediatrics and psychiatry Dr. Michael Lewis, "About 70% of kids are already lying by the age of 2 or 2-1/2. And by age 6, almost 100% are lying."
And that fact goes a long way in explaining why so many parents-86% of us--are told lies. ByReputation.com's CEO Brandon Gaille has also found that 75% of friends lie to each other, followed by 72% of siblings, and 69% of spouses. He also reports that, "Most people lie an average of four times a day, which equates to 1,460 lies every year."
Yikes! You can almost feel your nose growing!
So, does that explain the 40% of resumes that are padded with untruths? Or how about the 90% of folks who reportedly misrepresent themselves on dating sites? On those, apparently, women are apt to say they weigh 8-1/2 pounds less than we actually do, while men likely say they're taller, richer, and/or better educated than they really are.
And making ourselves look better or manipulating others for our own gain aren't the only reasons we lie. We also resort to untruths in order to:
Shift blame
Avoid confrontation
Get one's way
Be nice
Make ourselves feel better
But how can we tell if someone is being untruthful? Dr. Leanne ten Brinke, a forensic psychologist at the University of California, Berkeley, suggests these tell-tale signs:
"They change their head position quickly.
Their breathing changes.
They stand very still.
They repeat words or phrases.
They provide too much information.
They touch or cover their mouth.
They instinctively cover vulnerable body parts.
They shuffle their feet.
It becomes difficult for them to speak.
They stare at you without blinking much.
They tend to point a lot."
Bottom line: Think twice before bending the truth. As philosopher Friedrich Nietzche once noted, "I'm not upset that you lied to me, I'm upset that from now on I can't believe you."
And that goes for the mightiest amongst us, too.
Carol is a learning specialist who worked with middle school children and their parents at the Methacton School District in Pennsylvania for more than 25 years and now supervises student teachers at Gwynedd-Mercy University and Ursinus College. Along with the booklet, 149 Parenting School-Wise Tips: Intermediate Grades & Up, and numerous articles in such publications as Teaching Pre-K-8 and Curious Parents, she has authored three successful learning guidebooks: Getting School-Wise: A Student Guidebook, Other-Wise and School-Wise: A Parent Guidebook, and ESL Activities for Every Month of the School Year.
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/8952230
Meanwhile, Judicial Watch recently uncovered U.S. State Department documents revealing that aides to then-Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, "knew from the outset that the Benghazi mission compound was under attack by armed assailants tied to a terrorist group." About that incident, though, she once said, "What difference does it make?"
And who can forget her saying that she "misspoke" and showed she's human when recalling her landing in Bosnia as First Lady. Her spin: She and daughter Chelsea were greeted by sniper fire, when in truth she was handed a poem by 8-year-old Emina Bicakcic.
The upshot: Williams received a six-month suspension without pay and has no credibility left. Clinton, on the other hand, may be the next president of the United States. Does the word Teflon come to mind?
At the same time, writes Michael Smerconish, "We all lie. I'll give Mother Teresa a pass, but that's it. Everyone else lies, and often our lies are self-aggrandizing; we're just trying to be better than we are."
So, yes, lies abound, but some simply matter more.
For instance, if I tell you that it's good to see you when it's not, no harm done. Same if I say I already have plans instead of flat out refusing your invite. And if my kid says he flushed the toilet, but didn't, no big deal. So-called white lies rarely have dire consequences.
Not so the other kind, the big, bad ones. Take the one recently revealed by David Axelrod, Obama's confidante and advisor. In his new book, Believer: My Forty Years in Politics, we learn that the President pretended to be opposed to gay marriage in the 2008 election. Could that have swayed some voters?
Unfortunately, that's only one in a string of documented presidential untruths. A quick Internet check tells that tale. Meanwhile, can any of us ever forget the one that goes, "If you like the health care plan you have, you can keep it."
Obama, of course, is not the only truth-stretching office holder. As the saying goes, "How can you tell a politician is lying? His lips are moving."
True or not, as already noted, the rest of us are at it, too--and we all get started early on. In fact, says researcher and professor of pediatrics and psychiatry Dr. Michael Lewis, "About 70% of kids are already lying by the age of 2 or 2-1/2. And by age 6, almost 100% are lying."
And that fact goes a long way in explaining why so many parents-86% of us--are told lies. ByReputation.com's CEO Brandon Gaille has also found that 75% of friends lie to each other, followed by 72% of siblings, and 69% of spouses. He also reports that, "Most people lie an average of four times a day, which equates to 1,460 lies every year."
Yikes! You can almost feel your nose growing!
So, does that explain the 40% of resumes that are padded with untruths? Or how about the 90% of folks who reportedly misrepresent themselves on dating sites? On those, apparently, women are apt to say they weigh 8-1/2 pounds less than we actually do, while men likely say they're taller, richer, and/or better educated than they really are.
And making ourselves look better or manipulating others for our own gain aren't the only reasons we lie. We also resort to untruths in order to:
Shift blame
Avoid confrontation
Get one's way
Be nice
Make ourselves feel better
But how can we tell if someone is being untruthful? Dr. Leanne ten Brinke, a forensic psychologist at the University of California, Berkeley, suggests these tell-tale signs:
"They change their head position quickly.
Their breathing changes.
They stand very still.
They repeat words or phrases.
They provide too much information.
They touch or cover their mouth.
They instinctively cover vulnerable body parts.
They shuffle their feet.
It becomes difficult for them to speak.
They stare at you without blinking much.
They tend to point a lot."
Bottom line: Think twice before bending the truth. As philosopher Friedrich Nietzche once noted, "I'm not upset that you lied to me, I'm upset that from now on I can't believe you."
And that goes for the mightiest amongst us, too.
Carol is a learning specialist who worked with middle school children and their parents at the Methacton School District in Pennsylvania for more than 25 years and now supervises student teachers at Gwynedd-Mercy University and Ursinus College. Along with the booklet, 149 Parenting School-Wise Tips: Intermediate Grades & Up, and numerous articles in such publications as Teaching Pre-K-8 and Curious Parents, she has authored three successful learning guidebooks: Getting School-Wise: A Student Guidebook, Other-Wise and School-Wise: A Parent Guidebook, and ESL Activities for Every Month of the School Year.
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/8952230
Tuesday, 1 March 2016
Traffic, Then and Now
I live in a state that doesn't have mass transit anywhere in the state; if you want to go anywhere, you have to go by car. I grew up in a city that depended on mass transit to move its millions of people from place to place.
Elsewhere in the state, you drove your car but I didn't see bicycles or motorcycles on the highway. I'm sure they existed but they didn't have the right of way and, in those years, there were no bicycle lanes in traffic.
When I hear my clients talk about traffic in their European or Asian cities, I can see such a different life from when I was growing up. Of course, it may be that there are so many years separating my life then and my life now.
At the time, there were much fewer cars on the highway and everyone traveled by subway to get to where they were going. On the weekends you could take your car into the city and there was relatively little traffic and you could always find a place to park.
Nowadays, it's not only easier to take the subway to wherever you're going in the city but it's also more cost-effective because parking is so limited and so expensive.
The one thing that has not changed in all these years is that when you live in a metropolitan city, you are surrounded by everything you need or could want.
If you want to go out to lunch in the city, when you walk out of your office you're just a few blocks away from some of the best restaurants. Of course, you have to get there before the lunch crowd if you want to get a table because restaurants fill up very fast during peak times.
For the most part, I remember that it didn't pay to take a bus in the business district because most things are within walking distance. And, unless you were having a working lunch in your office, it didn't pay to order food to be delivered because restaurants were a hop, skip, and a jump away from your office.
I don't imagine much has changed in that regard between metropolitan cities and suburbia but I'm just very glad I grew up in a metropolitan area when I was young enough to enjoy all it had to offer. Nowadays, I'm just very glad I can get to where I'm going by car.
Connie H. Deutsch is an internationally known business consultant and personal advisor who has a keen understanding of human nature and is a natural problem-solver.
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/8959094
Elsewhere in the state, you drove your car but I didn't see bicycles or motorcycles on the highway. I'm sure they existed but they didn't have the right of way and, in those years, there were no bicycle lanes in traffic.
When I hear my clients talk about traffic in their European or Asian cities, I can see such a different life from when I was growing up. Of course, it may be that there are so many years separating my life then and my life now.
At the time, there were much fewer cars on the highway and everyone traveled by subway to get to where they were going. On the weekends you could take your car into the city and there was relatively little traffic and you could always find a place to park.
Nowadays, it's not only easier to take the subway to wherever you're going in the city but it's also more cost-effective because parking is so limited and so expensive.
The one thing that has not changed in all these years is that when you live in a metropolitan city, you are surrounded by everything you need or could want.
If you want to go out to lunch in the city, when you walk out of your office you're just a few blocks away from some of the best restaurants. Of course, you have to get there before the lunch crowd if you want to get a table because restaurants fill up very fast during peak times.
For the most part, I remember that it didn't pay to take a bus in the business district because most things are within walking distance. And, unless you were having a working lunch in your office, it didn't pay to order food to be delivered because restaurants were a hop, skip, and a jump away from your office.
I don't imagine much has changed in that regard between metropolitan cities and suburbia but I'm just very glad I grew up in a metropolitan area when I was young enough to enjoy all it had to offer. Nowadays, I'm just very glad I can get to where I'm going by car.
Connie H. Deutsch is an internationally known business consultant and personal advisor who has a keen understanding of human nature and is a natural problem-solver.
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/8959094
A Modern Display Of Lost Tradition
Mourning Cross Bereavement Pins
A modern display of a lost tradition, what is old and lost, is found and new again.
In many of our cultures and societies of years past, when a death occurred we outwardly displayed our mourning with jewellery, black mourning arm bands or buttons. Many people also wore black for a period of time.
An Irish mother and her three daughters who has experienced the loss of so many of their loved one's has revived this old tradition as a result of a conversation between them. During the conversation one sister who had been to a wake of a friend's grandmother explained how uncomfortable and embarrassed she felt as a result of not being able to locate her friend who was not in the house at the time, and not knowing the immediate family with whom she should sympathise. Each of the sisters gave examples of wakes and funerals that they had attended and experienced similar, uncomfortable and embarrassing situations. They also recalled their own family wake of their father explaining that some visitors had walked past them not realising that they were daughters and how uncomfortable that felt. They talked about the embarrassing whispers of people asking who was who and the stories that are lost about the deceased as a result of missed opportunities to share their cherished memories.
We use signs and symbols in our daily lives all the time and that symbols are important to help steer people in the right direction. She also said that after the funeral families like to wear the bereavement pins as an outward expression of their grief, its unique design and unspoken message provokes conversations of what the Pin signifies... allowing those who are mourning to share the memory of their loved one.
The family believe that reviving and preserving this true tradition provides a symbolic and special significance in remembering the departed, respecting the grieving at what is a very difficult time. The family are passionate in reviving this old tradition using a respectful symbol to enhance the funeral experience not only for attendees but families who benefit from wonderful stories that would have been lost.
The elegant pins, which also serve as treasured keepsakes, are offered in either black or white enamel in the shape of a cross or, as a non-denominational option, a circle. Both have a center image of a dove in flight and are presented on a card with the expressive poem, "It's My Time".
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/8249908
A modern display of a lost tradition, what is old and lost, is found and new again.
In many of our cultures and societies of years past, when a death occurred we outwardly displayed our mourning with jewellery, black mourning arm bands or buttons. Many people also wore black for a period of time.
An Irish mother and her three daughters who has experienced the loss of so many of their loved one's has revived this old tradition as a result of a conversation between them. During the conversation one sister who had been to a wake of a friend's grandmother explained how uncomfortable and embarrassed she felt as a result of not being able to locate her friend who was not in the house at the time, and not knowing the immediate family with whom she should sympathise. Each of the sisters gave examples of wakes and funerals that they had attended and experienced similar, uncomfortable and embarrassing situations. They also recalled their own family wake of their father explaining that some visitors had walked past them not realising that they were daughters and how uncomfortable that felt. They talked about the embarrassing whispers of people asking who was who and the stories that are lost about the deceased as a result of missed opportunities to share their cherished memories.
We use signs and symbols in our daily lives all the time and that symbols are important to help steer people in the right direction. She also said that after the funeral families like to wear the bereavement pins as an outward expression of their grief, its unique design and unspoken message provokes conversations of what the Pin signifies... allowing those who are mourning to share the memory of their loved one.
The family believe that reviving and preserving this true tradition provides a symbolic and special significance in remembering the departed, respecting the grieving at what is a very difficult time. The family are passionate in reviving this old tradition using a respectful symbol to enhance the funeral experience not only for attendees but families who benefit from wonderful stories that would have been lost.
The elegant pins, which also serve as treasured keepsakes, are offered in either black or white enamel in the shape of a cross or, as a non-denominational option, a circle. Both have a center image of a dove in flight and are presented on a card with the expressive poem, "It's My Time".
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/8249908
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