Half A Loaf

The definition of compromise is to, “make a deal between two different parties, where each party gives up a portion of their demand.” Sometimes, when people can’t agree, they will hire a neutral third party, a mediator, to referee the negotiations, and hopefully steer them toward a workable solution.

I have a friend, a professional mediator, who was called upon to help with a management/labor dispute. The people involved were shut into a windowless, smoke-filled room. Ashtrays filled up quickly as the arguments became more heated.

My friend, the mediator, started coughing and said, “I need a break. It’s too smoky in here. I can’t breathe. Could you please stop smoking for the rest of the meeting?” and he left the room. When he returned, the union leader said, “Mr. Mediator, while you were gone, we came to an agreement.” “That is so good to hear,” said my friend. “I knew that reasonable people could compromise. What did you agree upon?” “Well,” said the representative of management, “Since we are a tobacco company, we didn’t think you should tell us to stop smoking, so we agreed to let you go.”

“Sometimes you even have to compromise with yourself such as, “I’m on a diet, so I’ll only eat one Ding-Dong instead of three.” Making decisions (other than pronouncements by dictators) calls for some give and take, and if you are lucky, you’ll end up with a happy balance and not a grudge. Of course, the alternative to compromise is doing nothing. The 112^th U.S. Congress was especially gifted in this area.

Gerald F. Seib, wrote in the Wall Street Journal about a new model of compromise to get polarized politicians in Washington, D.C. beyond impasse. He wrote about a group called, “No Labels” consisting of Republicans, Democrats and Independents, who have formed to find the “new politics of problem solving.” They met in New York City on 1/14/2013 to build trust across the aisle. I assume they met, but I haven’t read anything about that gathering. Maybe they are still arguing about whether to turn the heat up or down in the meeting room.

If this group discovers a way to be conciliatory, the public might think them brilliant, rather than maybe they didn’t understand the depth of the problems to begin with. The good thing about compromise is that once you have agreed, you don’t have to think up any more stupid questions to delay the proceedings.

A compromising position is when a person is openly exposed doing something of which he or she is blatantly guilty, such as telling someone you baked a cake from scratch, and he finds the cake mix box in the garbage. It can be very embarrassing when a congressman falls into the Potomac River with his stripper girlfriend instead of being where he was supposed to be---a gathering of avid bird watchers.

A good compromise is when people come to a middle of the road agreement, and accept that they can’t have everything they want. The author, Christopher Myers put it best. “Compromise is when one person wants to rob a bank and the other person does not---so they compromise to rob a person outside the bank.”

Esther Blumenfeld (If you bend you won’t break, but you might have a very sore back.)

Dig It

It started with a colonoscopy down the sewer line in my front yard. The plumber’s camera snaked its way under the yard and toward the street. All was well until he informed me, “The sewer line in your street needs a root canal.”

Like a bad science fiction movie, tree roots from outer space had invaded and were choking and devouring my sewer line 10 feet under the ground. Happily, they hadn’t popped up into my toilet yet.

When I called the county engineer, he broke the news (which was as bad as the damaged pipe) that since the street in my sub-division is private, I was on my own with the replacement, but he said, “Sorry about that”---an obvious case of shadenfreude.

The next day, three burly men arrived with a street destroying, automatic backhoe, with which one of them drove, dug and shoveled out a really big hole deep down into the earth. At that point, I contemplated putting a swimming pool in the middle of the street, but then I remembered that my neighbor’s car doesn’t float.

All went well with the project, until suddenly the digging machine stopped making its “hukka---hukka” noise. I knew something was amiss because my headache improved the minute the fuel pump broke. The project manager called a technician who said he’d come right away to replace the fuel pump. Two hours later he showed up. I said, “It took you longer to get here than it took Pope Francis to come to the balcony.”  “I stopped for lunch,” was his answer. Of course, that explained everything. It took him 10 minutes to fix the problem.

The backhoe resumed its “hukka” noise, my headache returned, and one of the workers climbed down into the depths of the 10-foot hole to remove the tree roots, and replace the sewer with non vegetarian pipes. Before the sun set, the hole was filled with dirt, and the next day the asphalt was replaced on the street. It looked like a little theatre stage. For a moment, I stood in the middle of the street and yelled, “Out damned spot,” but stopped because my neighbor’s dogs started barking. That’s show business.

My new sewer put a dent in my checkbook. For what it cost, I could have purchased a small country. However, I guess it’s better to be flushed with success than confront sewage that doesn’t want to leave home.

Esther Blumenfeld (and I thought that “Down Under” meant Australia)

Splendid Isolation

Going to lunch with my friend, Suzanne is always a special treat, because this internationally renowned artist understands the creative process. I asked her, “What do you need before putting brush to canvas?” “Solitude,” was her answer. “But,” she added, “right now I’m working on a painting in my mind.”

Willie Sutton said, “It’s a rather pleasant experience to be alone in a bank at night.” Of course, he said it while shoveling money into a burlap bag, but in a weird way he too understood the joys of solitude.

Often people will ask me where I get my ideas. Ideas are easy. Developing them in a creative new way requires the freedom of self-isolation. There is a difference between choosing to be alone or loneliness, because solitude never hurts unless it drives you nuts.

For those of you who can’t stand being alone with yourself, the best way to describe it is--- I’m the one who would like to be the only person in the forest to hear the tree fall---and then write about the experience. Solitaire is a card game for one player, but it is also a diamond set by itself. I prefer diamonds.

Of course, I am fiercely devoted to my friends and enjoy a raucous get-together probably more than most people, but periods of silence are needed to stimulate the imagination.

On a rainy day, throw a blanket over the dining room table and watch a child create a tent or a castle. Give a toddler a gift in a big box and see him discard the toy in favor of the box. Buy a house with a climbing tree and a swing. Then unplug the electronics and send the kid outside. She will discover that solitude is sometimes the best company.

So what do I think about when I hike alone in the mountains? This is what I pondered today: “If Richard III, the last Plantagenet King of England had known that he would end up in a parking lot would he have offered his Kingdom for a horse or a BMW?”

Esther Blumenfeld (“Share your loneliness. Treasure your solitude”)

Seeing Is Not Always Believing

This morning, I had breakfast with my friend, Sandra who is a master. No, she does not run a tugboat or own a plantation. Sandra is a member of the Canadian judiciary. I asked her, “Is it ever difficult to render a decision?” She replied, “Sometimes, even when confronted with evidence, one has to be careful to arrive at the correct conclusion.”

I asked her to give me an example. “That’s easy,” she replied. “I have a friend who is expecting a baby. She also has a three-year-old daughter. While trying to explain her pregnancy, she showed the child an ultrasound of the baby. ‘I want to call Grandma’ was the excited response. So they did. The little girl grabbed the phone and yelled, ‘Grandma, Grandma, we’re going to have a frog.”’

Christopher Columbus was looking for a direct sea route to China and the Indies. He proved that the world is not flat, but instead of discovering the Indies and Chinese take-out, he unearthed the joys of the tobacco plant. After a good smoke, he still insisted that he had discovered the Indies and shouted, “Isabella, Isabella, these folks are Indians.”

As far as the earth goes, most people grudgingly admit it isn’t flat anymore, but even if they see a polar bear in a bikini sipping pina coladas on an ice flow, these people will not recognize global warming. They will shout, “Al, Al, the ice cubes in my scotch and soda didn’t melt any faster than they used to.”

When I was in Alaska, I spotted a big black bear ambling very close to the van in which I was sitting. The driver stopped, so we could enjoy the bear and her cub. We also spotted a woman with a camera getting out of her car. My driver lowered the window and shouted, “Get back into your car.” “Why?” said the woman. “Bear,” said the driver. “So?” said the woman. I yelled, “Lady, Lady, it’s a bear—not a frog!”

Some people just don’t get what is directly in front of them. There are still some numbskulls that don’t believe that Neil Armstrong walked on the moon. “They didn’t fool me. That was a fake moon landing filmed in a Hollywood studio. Besides, the moon is made of cheese and cows jump over it.”

The paranoid among us still don’t believe that the President of the United States was born here. Even his birth certificate won’t convince them. If one of these characters was privy to President Obama’s ultrasound, he would convince himself that he is right, and then he would shout, “Grandma, Grandma, our President is a frog, Hawaii is a foreign country, and I am as smart as a three year old.”

Esther Blumenfeld (The sun just sank into the sea)

How Much Did You Make This Year? Send It In!

Most people know that Thomas Jefferson wrote the framework for the Declaration of Independence. No one has to tell you who authored the Monroe Doctrine. And who could forget the Mann behind the Mann Act? But who knows who writes the IRS tax-instruction booklets?

January 27, 4:00 p.m. U.S. Internal Revenue Service, Atlanta office:

Question:  I’d like some information. Could you tell me who writes the instructions for the 1040 Federal Income Tax Forms?

Answer:  Well, Honey, I imagine a lot of smart lawyers up in Washington.

Q:  How many is lots?

A:  Hundreds of them do this, but if you want more information, write to the Commissioner of Internal Revenue in Washington.

January 27, letter:  Dear Sir, No one in the Atlanta tax office seems to know the answer to my question. Could you please inform me who writes the instructions for the federal income tax forms? Are they all lawyers? 

January 28,   Call-in TV Program: Q: Who writes the instructions for the federal income tax forms? A: The technical division of the IRS made up of educators.

Q: What kind of educators? A: Educators whom the IRS trains in tax law.

Q: Let me get this straight. You put lots of teachers in a room, train them in tax law and then they write the instructions for the income tax forms? A: No. They have separate offices.

January 29, Switch on car radio:  Guest: If your visitors have further questions, about filling out their tax forms, we have a number they can call. Host: How can they be assured they are getting the correct answers? Guest: We try to train our people carefully, but the Internal Revenue Service doesn’t guarantee any of the answers you receive from their employees. Switch off car radio.

February 3, Long distance call from Washington, DC:  IRS: Hello, I am a staff assistant for the Director of Internal Revenue calling in response to your letter.

Reporter: I’m glad you called. I’d like to know who writes the instructions for the IRS forms. IRS: A branch in the national office employs 40 people. Most of them have had agent experience in the field and have CPA, auditing and accounting backgrounds. We don’t do too much hiring off the street. Reporter: I’m glad to hear that.

IRS: There are also six writer-editors with English backgrounds. One is an expert in readability. Reporter: I figured you’d have at least one of those. IRS: We also have tax law specialists to interpret the code, regulations and revenue rulings. In May or June, we have open meetings around the country where the general public can tell us what’s wrong with the tax forms. Reporter: Do regular people attend those meetings? IRS: Rarely. We usually get CPA’s, Attorneys, Bankers and Computer folks.

Reporter: Okay, but 40 people can’t sit down and write the first draft. Who does that? IRS: A fellow named Art Shultz. Reporter: Isn’t that the same guy who draws PEANUTS?  IRS: That’s not funny! Copies of the draft go to an outside branch that represents each area including criminal investigation people.

Reporter: So to do this work, it is best to have an accounting or law background? IRS: Yes, but the job description doesn’t require either lawyers or accountants. Reporter: I guess that’s so you won’t get a lawyer or accountant off the street. IRS: What did they tell you in the Atlanta office? Reporter: They told me that hundreds of smart lawyers in Washington are writing instructions for us.

IRS: Actually, we’ve found that often people in the field don’t know exactly what we’re doing here in Washington. I know that because I was out in the field for years before I got this job.

So here’s what we learned: It takes 40 experts, sitting in separate offices, 52 weeks to write the instructions. And, if you don’t understand them and call the IRS for enlightenment, they are not responsible for the wrong answers they may give you.

Esther Blumenfeld (adapted from “Why Fool’s Day is in April,” by Esther Blumenfeld and Lynne Alpern, CREATIVE LOAFING April, 2, 1983)