We’ve all heard about modern pirates roaming the Indian Ocean off the eastern shore of Somalia.  We’ve also visited the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at every Disney theme park.  Are there any other pirates in the world that we should try to avoid?

You bet!  An invisible Jolly Roger waves in every nook and cranny of our fair land.  I’ve read that employers steal billions from workers paychecks every year, with 17% of low-wage workers cheated out of their minimum wage pay. Scammers swindle older Americans out of another $3 billion a year.

I have known two pirates personally.  I’ll call one Bill (because that is what he did), and the other Paul (because he turned out to be appalling).

Bill was a rare coin dealer.  He walked the plank right out of my life several years ago. One of my sons said to me, “Dad, this guy is selling you all kinds of jewelry and other stuff, claiming that his prices are lower than wholesale.  Why don’t you check that out?”

We hired an appraiser.  My son was right.  Every item was significantly overpriced.

I also cut Paul adrift.  He was an outstanding salesman, but became greedy, taking more and more of the treasure for himself.  Ultimately his pirate ship sank in deep water, and Pirate Paul and his crew are now at the bottom of the sea.  At least metaphorically.  In real life they are fighting lawsuits.

But the pirate life of Bill and Paul is trivial when compared to the losses I’ve incurred from the swashbuckling pirates of Wall Street.

For one example, a few years ago Toys R Us filed for bankruptcy and vacated several of our shopping centers.  Were they losing money in the toy business?  Not at all.  That business was profitable.  But in taking Toys R Us private, and then public again, Wall Street saddled the company with $500,000,000 in annual loan payments, a burden Toys R Us simply couldn’t pay.

The Pirates of Wall Street grasped the gold.  The public was left with a vacant casket and a mortgage.

Take a look at any American flag.  Can you see a faint Jolly Roger waving at you right beside it?

Avast ye scurvy dogs!

Alan

One of my daily pleasures is reading the Ask Amy advice column in the Los Angeles Times.  Many readers ask for guidance on how to deal with difficult people in their lives. I call these difficult people, “Thorns.” They are the relatives, coworkers, or friends who are just not easy to deal with. We all know who they are.

Each of us has a unique way of interacting with others, but some of us are consistently Roses, and others are Thorns.  Some of us are easy going, while others are prickly, difficult, and quick to offend. We can also be either, or both, depending upon the situation.

I decided years ago that I would prefer to be a Rose when dealing with others. A Rose is sweet and dispenses delight.  A Thorn is painful and delivers discord. To a great extent we can decide at any given moment whether we will be a Rose, or a Thorn. For example, when a coworker, friend, or family member asks me for anything my standard answer is “yes.”  Why not?  We all have more than enough “no’s” in our lives, and I don’t want to add to that burden. And “yes” moves us forward, while “no” stops us dead in our tracks. “Yes” is open and receptive. “No,” is sharp and tinged with potential disappointment.

Also, in conversation I like to listen closely to what the other person is saying.  I always learn more when I listen than when I talk.  Many say I’m good at having conversations, when actually I’ve just been listening. Thorns don’t care what you have to say. They will often shut you down or are only interested in talking about themselves. Roses, on the other hand, want hear from you. They listen.

We all have opinions.  Was the Golden Globe award ceremony on national TV last night a great show, or was it only good, or was it terrible?  Everyone who watched it will have a different opinion. Our varied opinions on that are probably not too important in a relationship, but the way we deal with them are. Thorns will not accept your right to feel differently than they do about something. Roses will.

If we are judgmental about another person (“That was really stupid of you”) rather than supportive (“I’m so sorry you had that experience”) we are going to impact our relationships. Who would you rather be in a relationship with?

Rose or Thorn?

It’s up to you.

Alan

As I settle into my seat at the beginning of each commercial airline flight, I hear a short speech about how to buckle and release my seatbelt, how to use the flotation device in the event of a water landing, and (finally) the importance of putting on my own oxygen mask first, before assisting others.

The instruction to take care of myself first seems selfish, flying in the face of my parental instinct to place my children’s needs ahead of my own.  After all, if there isn’t enough food for the entire family, don’t we feed our children first?

So why isn’t it selfish to care for ourselves first in an airplane?  Because if you need an oxygen mask and don’t put yours on first, you may not be able to help your children later.

Taking this analogy to a deeper level, aren’t there many times when we should take care of ourselves first? How else will we have enough experience, knowledge, and money to help care for others, and still be there to help out with our grandchildren?

Years ago, a friend, her sister, and her teenage daughter, were swimming in the Pacific Ocean at a beach south of Carmel, California.  A sudden wave tumbled the daughter into the open sea.  Our friend immediately (and understandably) dove in to save her daughter.  Unfortunately she was swept out to sea herself, never to be seen again, while a second wave carried her daughter back onto the shore and safety.

For the past six months I have been walking at least 7,000 steps each day.  To achieve this, I am sometimes selfish with how I spend my time.  I will occasionally, and abruptly, terminate a conversation with a family member.

“I’ve got to get in 2,000 more steps today,” I say as I quickly stride away.

I am certainly taking care of myself, but I’m also taking care of my family because in putting my own needs first, I will be better able to care for them in the future.

I’m an unrepentant pragmatist.  I prefer actions that work.  If I’m ever on an airplane and the oxygen mask actually deploys in front of me, you can bet that I’ll put on my mask first, because sometimes taking care of ourselves is the most selfless act any of us can do.

Alan