Alan C. Fox

“Sometimes women in families put themselves last,” Angelina Jolie recently told Vanity Fair.  “Until it manifests itself in their own health.”

Jolie makes a very important point. We face decisions every day about whether to put ourselves, or others, first.  That series of decisions, repeated day after day, forms a pattern of behavior that has a long-term impact on our lives, for better or for worse. It is possible that Angelina Jolie’s pattern of putting herself last has contributed to several of her health challenges, including, most recently, Bell’s Palsy.

We all have personal values, especially around our children and loved ones.  We want to show our love by helping them.  But when we look deeply into our choices we might find that we are, in fact, working against our own ideals.

My first priority is my own health.  That may seem selfish, but if it is important to me to help my family and others, and if I sacrifice my own health in pursuing that goal, am I not working against myself?

If I drive eighty miles an hour to get to the hospital to help a loved one, and get into an accident in which I am injured or killed, how much help will I be when I arrive at the emergency room (or morgue) in an ambulance myself?

If I work eighty hours a week to support my family and die of a heart attack at midnight alone at my desk, how helpful will I be to them in the future?  Hopefully, I will be up-to-date on paying the premiums on a large life insurance policy.

If you are always helpful to your children and to your friends but suffer from hypertension, how effective will you be in five or ten years?

I know a few people who are always helpful and often put me first. While I deeply appreciate their help, I want to take care of them as well.  I feel uncomfortable, and unneeded, if they don’t let me reciprocate by taking care of them once in a while.  When I was eight years old I saved my allowance for three months to treat my family to dinner.  My father took his responsibility as the family breadwinner very seriously, and he was embarrassed at being “treated” to dinner by his young son.  But I was really happy that he let me help my family.  I felt needed.

A friend of mine just returned from a week-long bicycle vacation with his wife.

“We had such a wonderful time,” he said.  “We enjoyed the scenery, the food, and the wine.  It was the first time in five years my wife and I had taken a vacation by ourselves.  We decided to send our daughters to camp again next year and take another vacation – just the two of us.”

We can best take care of others when we remember that it is sometimes necessary to take care of ourselves first.

Angelina, thanks for the tip.  I hope you’re slightly more selfish in the future, so you can continue to be selfless with those you love.

Alan

I have run my own business for more than fifty years. One of my primary goals has been to earn a profit. The idea behind this is simple:  No profit, no business.  To stay in business you have to meet a payroll on time as well as pay your rent, electricity, and telephone bills.

When asked what I want from my business, or from my life, I have often answered with a single word:  More.

If you were to ask the owners, or top managers, of any “for profit” business in the United States how much profit they would like their business to earn next year they would almost certainly confirm my former answer:  More.  After all, if “some” is good, isn’t “more” better?  And aren’t managers rewarded with financial bonuses and promotions when profit increases?

Perhaps.  But I would argue that in the United States today the unceasing quest for more profit is the enemy.

Trained as a CPA, I know how to analyze and evaluate expenses on an Income Statement.  But as a business owner and investor I have also learned that the pursuit of profit incurs many severe costs that will never appear on a financial report.  For example:

1. At the moment I’m a passenger on a flight from Los Angeles to Hawaii on “We Get You There So Shut Up and Suffer” Airline. The plane is old, not well maintained, and the legroom in Economy is deplorable.  For my next trip I’ll try “Anyone Else” Airline, even if it costs me more.  “Shut Up and Suffer” may earn a greater profit this year, but not next year.
2. I often offer an incentive out of my own pocket when I’m selling something. My friend Ed, a university professor, spends up to ten percent of his salary to help his students.  We are not focusing on profit, but on value.
3. At seventy-seven years old I sometimes wonder if I have “sold” more of my life to work than I should have. On the teeter-totter of life when financial gain goes up, must happiness go down?  Often yes.  In my case I’m comfortable with my decision, but I decided when I started out not to reach too high for profit.
4. I find that many businesses, both large and small, fight for every penny. Up to a certain point a struggle may be needed to survive, or maybe it’s just for sport.  But after a point there is a cost, mental and physical, which I call the friction of conflict.  You will never find “Cost of Conflict” on the financial statement of Exon, Apple, or my company.  But the Cost of Conflict is always paid for in sick tummies, throbbing headaches, or failing relationships.
5. The goal of more is often unreachable. Failure to Exceed last year’s profit becomes a failure.  But if your salary goes down instead of up might you enjoy yourself more?  There is always a price, often heavy, to be paid for the unrelenting pursuit of More.

Capitalism may be forever, but your lifetime is finite.

I also believe that you can earn and keep more money when you invite more fun into your life, when you let your mind wander in the shower, and when you come into work with a fresh outlook.

I’m on vacation today, and writing this blog is fun even though it doesn’t earn a dime.

Of course, tomorrow I have a ticket back to Los Angeles on good old, and I do mean old, “Shut Up and Suffer” Airline.

Alan

Most marriages begin with deep love and high hopes.  Over a period of time, however, love fades, high hopes languish, and the relationship becomes burdened by disappointment that is revealed in overt and covert disapproval.

This decline can be prevented, and my faith was restored on a flight from Dallas when I sat next to Hank, a tall Texan, who spun the following tale which gives me hope for all of us.

“Alan, this morning Angela, my wife, left the lights on in our bathroom.  Again.  Now that used to bother me because every time I leave a room I hear my father’s voice warning me to ‘Turn off the lights when you leave the room.  Electricity is expensive.’  Dad was sure thrifty.”

“So what did you do this morning?”

“Well, when I found the lights blazing this morning, long after the sun was up, I turned them off.  Angela was gone somewhere.  She’s been really busy and, frankly, I don’t mind her few – I call them ‘misses by the missus’.  I just smile and take care of the problem myself, including the occasional dirty dishes in the sink.”

“So burning lights and dirty dishes don’t bother you?”

Alan, not any more.  No, sir.  When we were first married four children ago we had the following talk.

“Angela, when you left this morning you left the bathroom lights on.  Again.”

“Oh.  Right. Hank. And did you leave your pants on the floor?  Again?  Did you put your shoes on the shelf?”

“Uh, well . . . “

“And when was the last time you washed your car?  Or should I say, when was the last time you had it washed for you?”

“Alan, she used to call these ‘messups by the mister.’”

I smiled.  “Hank, in my life I’ve had similar experiences.  We’ve all have disappointments with our life partners.”

“Yup.  Y’know, Alan (he patted me on the shoulder), I learned a long time ago that when I complained Angela just complained back more.  And I know I‘m not perfect.  So I just plain gave up pickin’ at her, and she let go of pickin’ on me, and now we get along just fine.  I figure that nitpicking is the losing side of life.  I look at her wonderful caring for me and the kids, and I’m real happy with the total package.  Why bother with what, back on the farm, we called “hog tying a greased pig.”

I laughed.  “Hank, you should talk to my dad.  When I was twenty-one, and getting married for the first time, he said to me, ‘Alan, don’t expect your wife to change.  Take her like she is and enjoy the heck out of your life.’  Of course, I didn’t listen to him.  What do parents know?”

“Son, I’m a guessin’ that you and I have both learned a lot in our time on this planet.”

On my way home from the airport in Los Angeles I ran my car through a car wash.  I was getting tired of those bird droppings which had been on the roof of my car for weeks.

Yessiree.

Alan