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My Corporate Life and How It All Ended

I met with some bankers in fine textured suits. I struck a deal quick. (I had such a knack.) I offered rare cacti and tropical fruits – a cure-all for things that ail your back. I served 'em a dish of oysters and clams flavored with herbs from high remote lands accompanied by slices of seaweed-cured hams served on a bed of tri-colored sands. I once struck a deal with some Wall Street investors. I short sold 'em stocks that didn't exist! But they got me back (those sly empty-nesters) by making fake deals I couldn't resist. All of my days got dreadfully busy. Held hour-long meetings in 10 minutes flat! Made my staff tired bewildered and dizzy. But business is business, and that was just that. I can't quite say what we did at each meeting. We talked and debated. We yelled. We screamed. We'd discuss in soft voices (those moments were fleeting) but when we agreed I'd smile, even beamed. We dreamed of grand things and plans we would make. We had a huge goal: we'd conquer the market! (Of course we had kids. This was for their sake.) Put your ear right up close. I'll whisper our target. What we make is no secret. Our dream is the thing. Our stuff the world uses. It can't do without. Our competitors fear (while secretly hoping) we'll become a cartel and buy them all out! So here's what we make (a simple thing really). You use it at dinner, at breakfast and lunch, when it's hot and it's steamy or cold and it's chilly. Donuts to dollars you must have a hunch. It can fix anything, an all-purpose tool. It will open a can, pull the cork from a bottle, even fix all your plumbing (now isn't that cool?). Under the hood it'll fix your car's throttle. I know that you're anxious. I know you can't wait. I'm making the point. Sit still and don't fidget! Now no more pondering and staying up late: We make what you use: a gadget and widget! Making millions and billions takes plenty of people so our company grew, got huge and kept growing. A company needs growth. A church needs a steeple. You see how it works? We just kept on going. We hired by hundreds and thousands and more. We worked 'em like slaves, paid dimes even less. They threatened to strike, even steal the store but we had the power! We could hardly care less. We'd fire 'em in masses, by hundreds and dozens. We gave them no notice, we paid them no pension. We fired them all, brothers sisters and cousins. We paid off the media so they'd give us no mention. But shedding the people only solved half the puzzle. We had to make gadgets. Work had to get done. Just how could we do it? We put hands on our muzzle. No output, no profit. So how could we run? At midnight one day I awoke with a start. My plan was so clear, so cool and so cunning! We'd go overseas! Boy oh boy was I smart. I finally knew how we'd keep right on running. We worked day and night 'til after sunset. We all worked nonstop. We even skipped meals. We outsourced our stuff. Then I flew a jet to scour the globe for even more deals. Gov'nments, no scruples – such were fair game. Why, you might ask, do business with these? The answer is simple: except for the name they've two things in common: the gov'ment wants fees which makes labor cheap (it costs odds and ends). The less I pay out the more left for me! It works like a scale: when my side descends their side goes up. It's logic you see. My scheme soon paid off. We spanned the whole globe. We owned our competitors by tens and by scores. To find where we weren't you'd dig and you'd probe. Gadgets and widgets in millions of stores! A few weeks of this about did me in. I crawled to my bed and slept a deep sleep. I dreamed a strange dream of goodness and sin. And I chatted with God about what I could keep. He said in the end it was all up to me but my state of affairs just didn't look good. Pearly Gates entry he couldn't quite see. Suddenly in front of St. Peter I stood. We discussed and we bargained, tried to see eye to eye. Well most of that's true. He discussed and I bargained. (I knew I would lose but I still had to try. I thought that maybe he could just be out-jargoned!) But this wasn't happening. It was only a dream! I still felt uneasy. It seemed to mean change. Dreams being dreams things aren't what they seem. Abandon my business? I couldn't. Too strange. St. Peter spoke more. He had some suggestions. “Do something useful. Help orphans and widows. People have needs. Look around. Ask some questions. And ask your friend Sid. I know that he knows. And oh by the way, those countries you mention? At least say you're sorry. It surely can't hurt. Don't make a big show. Avoid causing tension. Just say it with meaning. Try not to be curt.” I blinked, rubbed my eyes, then blinked a bit more. I stretched and remembered I had to call Sid! Now what was his number? I had it before. Just have to remember where I had it hid. I looked in my book. No Sid in there. It was then that I wondered: did I even know Sid? Did I sleep? Am I up? I'll pull out a hair. Ouch! I'm awake! Gosh I never did! I recalled Pearly Gates and remembered my dream and trying to bargain with good ole St. Pete. (That stayed in my head (strange it may seem). We'd discussed and debated. St. Pete's hard to beat!) I'll allow he's a point. I won't pick a nit. I've been mostly right (just a little bit wrong). Ok, ok maybe more than a bit. I'll set things to rights. We will get along. I promise I'll do what I possibly could But he's asking a lot. (It's starting to sting.) I really don't want to but know that I should. Mumbling and grumbling I'll do the right thing. (He did all he promised, or so we are told. He did what he said. He even did more! He valued his friendships more highly than gold. His laughter showed that kindness went right through his core.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

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