It's Not What You Know

If you're new here, this is a weekly column consisting of letters written to my grandchildren (who exist) and my great-grandchildren (who aren't here yet) — the Stickies — to haunt them after they become grups and/or I'm dead.

                                   THE AGE OF UNLIGHTENMENT?

[Blogaramians: Blogarama renders the links in my columns useless. Please click on View Original to solve this problem and access lotsa columns.]

Irregularly Appearing Imaginary Guest Stars

Marie-Louise -- My beautiful muse (right shoulder) and back scratcher 

Iggy -- My designated Sticky

Dana -- My designated gentlereader (left shoulder)

Dear Gentlereaders, 

I've written a few columns, three to be exact (1,2,3), titled The State of the Zeitgeist. This was supposed to be an ongoing thing, but it hasn't been. Well, it's back (tell your friends) and it's now called May You Live In Interesting Times. M.Y.L.I.I.T. (2) will appear in a few weeks.

Also, going forward, you'll find that I will be (well, trying to) limiting my columns to 755 wpc (HT: Gloria A.). Till now, the (theoretical) limit was 1,000 wpc (words per column) but I've often gone over that, occasionally waaay over that.

While the primary purpose of my feeble scribbles is to leave a written legacy for my grandstickies & great-grandstickies, I confess I wouldn't mind generating a buck or three for my efforts, "No man but a blockhead ever wrote, except for money." -Samuel Johnson

Most writers don't make much money, if any money, to speak of; the competition is fierce, competitors numerous. But I confess that my No. 1 fantasy (I am getting old after all; my fantasies ain't what they used to be) is to generate a few bucks for my efforts.

However, the market has spoken. Being a wild-eyed free marketeer I semi-gracefully accept it's verdict. I've managed to secure exactly one Patron who supports my efforts to the tune of $5/monh. But I'm a patron of four others, all of whom deserve donations more than I, which costs me $6/month, I've written roughly 140+ columns and my cash flow is: (-)$1/month.

Which is why I'm going to spend less time on my column so that I can spend more time working on my version of the great not too shabby American novel. Easy peasy, right? I'll be rolling in the big bucks in no time.

Oh, and for the record, the "four others" are Jordan B. Peterson, Dave Rubin, Crash Course, and Quillette. And now, on with the show.

         
                   "Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall." -Shakespeare 

Dear Grandstickies & Great-Grandstickies,

It's not what you know, it's who you know; I've heard this unattributable proverb all my life. I lived in the New York City metro area for a minute, a long time ago. I knew a guy person, who was the first person to teach me a version that although nowadays is everywhere I will always consider to be the New York City version. It's not who know, it's who you, um... suck up to.

Both versions are true methinks. I once took a class, a sort of Business 101 (3 credits of my 39 official/certified accumulation of college credits) and one of the topics featured prominently in the first chapter of the obscenely overpriced textbook was the importance of who you know.

In fact, the author stated that who you know (i.e. networking) was one of the most important aspects of how to succeed as an employee in any business of any size, which was the focus of the book. As to how to succeed via self-employment/entrepreneurialism, that was the subject of a different class with its own obscenely overpriced textbook.

It's official, it's who you know. Of course, membership in a union, profession or trade group that benefits from regulatory capture or crony capitalism or overzealous occupational licensing laws can also be extremely helpful, but that's another letter.


Now, that said, as you may remember my last letter concluded with "...it's not what you know — it's the relentless pursuit of who you might like to be." which was followed by a (To be continued...).

Let us continue. What I...

[Wait-wait-wait. From what I remember, the "point" of last weeks exercise in loose-lipped loquaciousness was that while paying attention so that you learn something every day is important, it's more important to use what you learn to figure out who you want to be.]

Keyrectalmundo dude! I'm flattered, you do pay attention. I'm...

[Which has exactly what to do with the first four paragraphs of this letter?]

Well, the — it's not what you know — of the first four paragraphs of this weeks missive are about occupational/financial success.

The — it's not what you know — mentioned in last weeks letter, the one mentioned at the end that required a (To be continued...) is about psychological/emotional/etceteralogical success.

[Let me get this straight. This weeks column, that's continued from last week, starts by introducing a new concept...]

More like a new lesson actually. I...

[And then gets around to finishing last week's "lesson." Have I got that right? This makes sense to you?]

Well sure. Both are important lessons. Anyway, life doesn't come at ya' linearly, particularly in this, the Dizzinformation Age. Hey! that's another important lesson. Two columns, three lessons, I rock!

Iggy and Marie-Louise appear. M-L starts scratching my back. So, Iggy, what do you think?

[I love you, Poppa, you're my hero. I need to go to the mall and get some um, school supplies. Can I have 20 bucks?]

Door SLAMS. Dana has left the column, again. Oh well.


"That is to say, it's not what you know — it's the relentless pursuit of who you might like to be."  -me

I had my first intimation of this when I was still in grade school. As you're no doubt tired of hearing, I was provided with what is now called a virtues-based education by Sister Mary McGillicuddy and her fellow Sisters of Charity when nuns still had hair on their carefully camouflaged chests.

At the time my fellow high functioning chimpanzees and I called it going to school.

While we were expected to learn all sorts of fun (and many not so fun) facts, we were also taught how to develop our characters in order to know how to act in the world and how to share the playground with our fellow chimps.

[With all due respect, Poppa, we got like a thousand rules we're aposta follow like don't be a bully, don't be a hater, don't be judgy, see something say something, you know, like that. Can I get that twenty?]

We had about ten thousand rules, I was told not going to church on Sunday was a punched ticket to hell and the cosmic sentencing guidelines were carved in stone. Don't get me started... but that's not what I'm talking about.

The idea is to develop a given kids character by teaching them to be virtuous so that they don't need to memorize 1,001 rules, so they'll likely know the right thing to do in a given situation.

[That's that Seven Virtues thing you talked about, right? I got a question. If I'm a bad guy and I know it, maybe even like it, ain't choosing to do the wrong thing the right thing? How's about ten bucks?]

Hmm... oh, yeah, here ya go. Poppa loves you. (To be continued... again — geez.)

Have an OK day.


[P.S. Gentlereaders, for 25¢ a week, no, seriously, for 25¢ a week you can become a Patron of this weekly column and help to prevent an old crank from running the streets at night in search of cheap thrills and ill-gotten gains.

If there are some readers out there that think my shtuff is worth a buck or three a month, color me honored, and grateful. Regardless, if you like it, could you please share it? There are buttons at the end of every column.]


©2017 Mark Mehlmauer   (The Flyoverland Crank)

If you're reading this on my website (where there are tons of older columns, a glossary, and other goodies) and if you wish to react (way cooler than liking) — please scroll down. 

As to comments...Patrons can click on the community button of my Patreon page and post any comment they would like (be gentle with me). They are also given an email address for the exclusive use of Patrons (again, be gentle) when they sign up.  

Everyone else is welcome to go to my Facebook page. Scroll down to the relevant posting (I post new column announcements every Sunday morning) and have at me.  

The Light at the End of the Tunnel

If you're new here, this is a weekly column consisting of letters written to my grandchildren (who exist) and my great-grandchildren (who aren't here yet) —  the Stickies — to haunt them after they become grups and/or I'm dead.

                                   THE AGE OF UNLIGHTENMENT?

[Blogaramians: Blogarama renders the links in my columns useless. Please click on View Original to solve this problem and access lotsa columns.]

Irregularly Appearing Imaginary Guest Stars

Marie-Louise -- My beautiful muse (right shoulder) and back scratcher 

Iggy -- My designated Sticky

Dana -- My designated gentlereader (left shoulder)

Dear Gentlereaders, 

I've written a few columns, three to be exact (1,2,3), titled The State of the Zeitgeist. This was supposed to be an ongoing thing, but it hasn't been. Well, it's back (tell your friends) and it's now called May You Live In Interesting Times.

Also, going forward, you'll find that I will be (well, trying to) limiting my columns to 755 wpc (HT: Gloria A.). Till now, the (theoretical) limit was 1,000 wpc (words per column) but I've often gone over that, occasionally waaay over that.

While the primary purpose of my feeble scribbles is to leave a written legacy for my grandstickies & great-grandstickies, I confess I wouldn't mind generating a buck or three for my efforts, "No man but a blockhead ever wrote, except for money." -Samuel Johnson

Most writers don't make much money, if any money, to speak of; the competition is fierce, competitors numerous. But I confess that my No. 1 fantasy (I am getting old after all; my fantasies ain't what they used to be) is to generate a few bucks for my efforts.

However, the market has spoken. Being a wild-eyed free marketeer I semi-gracefully accept it's verdict. I've managed to secure exactly one Patron who supports my efforts to the tune of $5/monh. But I'm a patron of four others, all of whom deserve donations more than I, which costs me $6/month, I've written roughly 140 columns and my cash flow is: (-)$1/month.

Which is why I'm going to spend less time on my column so that I can spend more time working on my version of the great not too shabby American novel. Easy peasy, right? I'll be rolling in the big bucks in no time.

Oh, and for the record, the "four others" are Jordan B. Peterson, Dave Rubin, Crash Course, and Quillette.


"We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light." -Plato

Dear (eventual) Grandstickies & Great-Grandstickies,

Heavy sigh...

[Just start writing, mon cher, all is well.]

Merci, Marie-Louise. I will try. Deadlines: I really need to get rolling on this next letter/column/blog post/whatever — and I'm   just   not   feeling   it... Run for your lives! There's an Ennui running amok in the kingdom!

[A Retail concept for all those empty storefronts in need of a retail concept. Now open at Sunny Acres Mall and Combat Simulator — Mommy, Ennui & Me. Proudly providing poor service for the genetically depressed. Matching black outfits for mommies and their little monsters. Check out our line of Goth Girl temporary tattoos and faux piercing jewelry.]

While I refuse to cultivate my inner victim — a currently popular pastime that I hope is a neon accentuated anachronism by the time you read this — the light at the end of the tunnel keeps turning out to be a train coming the other way.

Gimme a sec', I'll be right back...

Being me, I just went looking for the source of what I thought was just a lame joke (the light/train/tunnel thing) and it turns out that it's credited to a poet, Robert Lowell. Mr. Lowell was a famous Pulitzer Prize (twice)/National Book Award winning poet that I confess I've never heard of.

[And why, pray tell, do you feel the need to share this fascinating literary tidbit with we mere mortals?]

In fact, I have two reasons, Dana. The first is that I now know what I want to write about. The second is that the light/train/tunnel metaphor reminds me of a bon mot from the Vietnam era that's worth repeating.

"Will the last person leaving Vietnam please turn out the light at the end of the tunnel."

[What the hell does that have to do with anything!]

Well obviously, it's a variation on the light/train/tunnel meme/theme. But mostly, it's just an excuse to insert the phrase bon mot (French: literally "good word", plural: bons mots) into a column. Although I'll be celebrating my 39th birthday for the 26th time this year this is the first time in my life I've ever written this phrase anywhere. I've never even said it, or rather tried to, out loud.

"Honey, have you seen my bons mots? I can't find 'em anywhere."

"Look under the bed. Ma stopped by today and I kicked them under there so she wouldn't see them."

[Mumble, mutter, maunder, murmur.]

Door SLAMS. Dana has left the column.


You're no doubt sick of hearing the following geezerism. Pay attention and you'll learn something every day. However, I don't think that I've pointed out that the accumulation of fun facts, unless your goal in life is to win big on Jeopardy, is only step one.

Of course, I may have mentioned step two before (I am a Junior Geezer...). Regardless, it's worth repeating, and, it's worth repeating.

Step two: Integrate what you learn with what you already know, who you are, and who you might like to be. Which brings us back to the light at the end of the tunnel. Our poet's original line is "The light at the end of the tunnel is just the light of an oncoming train."

Which, I will make no effort to memorize because what's important (to me) is:

I now know that a metaphor I use all the time comes from a poet who was famous for a minute and that even though poetry is one of the many subjects I wish I knew more about (but not all that strongly) I only have so much time and energy so I must prioritize because if you want to get something done (as this confirms) you have to or you'll just spin your wheels. Andy Warhol was, and Jordan Peterson is, right — 99.999% of all fame is fleeting at best so finding meaning is more important than happiness because for most of us, as Thomas Hobbes pointed out, life is indeed nasty, brutish, and short although that guy that runs the AEI, the one that used to be a classical musician in Spain? has a point when he says that earned accomplishment is the secret of happiness. But...

That is to say, it's not what you know — it's the relentless pursuit of who you might like to be. Poppa loves you. (To be continued...)

[Note: Without the heading, the introduction (Dear Gentlereaders...), the Have an OK day, the P.S., and the footer, the content of this missive has been rated at 762 wpc by the Association of Would-Be Writers of America. The author has filed a formal objection and maintains that without the introductory quote the wpc rating is 736 and that this number is a more accurate reflection of the content. At the time the column was published this dispute had yet to be resolved. Also, please note that this note was not included in the wpc calculation. Thank you.] 

Have an OK day.


[P.S. Gentlereaders, for 25¢ a week, no, seriously, for 25¢ a week you can become a Patron of this weekly column and help to prevent an old crank from running the streets at night in search of cheap thrills and ill-gotten gains.

If there are some readers out there that think my shtuff is worth a buck or three a month, color me honored, and grateful. Regardless, if you like it, could you please share it? There are buttons at the end of every column.]


©2017 Mark Mehlmauer   (The Flyoverland Crank)

If you're reading this on my website (where there are tons of older columns, a glossary, and other goodies) and if you wish to react (way cooler than liking)  please scroll down. 

As to comments...Patrons can click on the community button of my Patreon page and post any comment they would like (be gentle with me). They are also given an email address for the exclusive use of Patrons (again, be gentle) when they sign up.  

Everyone else is welcome to go to my Facebook page. Scroll down to the relevant posting (I post new column announcements every Sunday morning) and have at me.  

.

It's Complicated (or, Things I Think About)

If you're new here, this is a weekly column consisting of letters written to my grandchildren (who exist) and my great-grandchildren (who aren't here yet) -- the Stickies -- to haunt them after they become grups and/or I'm dead.

                         BEWARE THE (INTELECTUAL) DARK WEB

[Blogaramians: Blogarama renders the links in my columns useless. Please click on View Original to solve the problem and access lotsa columns.]

Irregularly Appearing Imaginary Guest Stars

Marie-Louise -- My beautiful muse (right shoulder) and back scratcher 

Iggy -- My designated Sticky

Dana -- My designated gentlereader (left shoulder)

"I came of age believing that, no matter what happened, I would always be able to support myself."
                                                                                  -William Jefferson Clinton

Dear (eventual) Grandstickies & Great-Grandstickies,

I wonder how the Hilliam's net worth is holding up? said I to me the other day. Prior to the last presidential election their enemies, as you would expect, made much of the fact they had supposedly amassed quite a bit of dough, mostly just for giving speeches, since they moved out of the White House.

Curiously, the fact that many of the groups of people that apparently put up some very fat fees (bankers and Wall Streeters) were groups they've regularly railed against over the years didn't seem to upset most of their supporters. After all, as she apparently will never let us forget, she did win the popular vote.

See, at some point in the midst of the reality show that was the 2016 presidential election, once I finally accepted that it was, indeed, real, I resolved to vote for the Libertarian party candidate — although I had reservations, and I knew he couldn't possibly win — and tuned out both the Hilliam and the Donald.

These two were the best we could do? Yet another reason to be embarrassed I'm a Baby Boomer. But I'm fascinated by people that can't seem to make enough money, so I thought I'd look into it.

Personally, I'd consider selling my soul, well, at least my integrity, for five million. Invested conservatively, that would be enough for me to squeak by on and still slowly grow the principle.

I shoveled some coal into the boiler and fired up Mark's Toy III (my somewhat less than cutting-edge computer) and went a-googling.

Where do I begin?

In an interview in 2014, she famously said that they were dead broke when they left the White House, even after they got their security deposit back. There were even reports that they walked off with $200,000 worth of stuff when they left. I decided to start there.

[Full disclosure: I've occasionally liberated an unused "courtesy" bar of soap or the like from the occasional hotel/motel over the years. Never having actually stayed anyplace (I'm still cautiously optimistic) nice enough to be tempted by those expensive and comfy looking fluffy robes so common in movies, my conscience remains (well, mostly) clear.]

As to the charge the Hilliam walked away from the White House with all the comfy/fluffy bathrobes and quite a bit of other swag the defendant was found not guilty. Mostly. Sort of.

It's complicated.

There are all sorts of media outlets that have investigated the charge. Politifact's report, and conclusions, was typical.


The first family is permitted to accept gifts, but, must report all gifts valued at more than $350 ($250 when the Hilliam moved out). The Hilliam reported that they had legitimately received $190,000 worth of gifts that apparently they had loaded into the U-Haul and took with them.

The Washington Post published their submitted paperwork; criticism ensued.

When the smoke cleared, the Hilliam paid The Gummit $86,000 for gifts that were declared the property of The Gummit. They also returned $48,000 worth of furniture. That's a total of $134,000.

$190,000 reported, $134,000 returned. Hey, everybody makes mistakes. For example, Hillary thought they were broke but they were able to write a check for $86,000 to cover the cost of some cherished mementos from their White House days. Who wouldn't?

You know what? I'll bet Willy was in charge of the checkbook but told her a little white lie because he was worried about the mortgage payments on the two houses they needed to buy (his and hers?) when they could no longer call the White House home.

Chappaqua, New York house -- $1,700,000
Washington, DC house -- $2,850,000

Just imagine what the payments must have been!


Politifact rated the $200,000 theft claim as: Mostly False. They didn't steal $200,000 worth of stuff, they accidentally took $134,000 worth of stuff, and then paid for some of it and returned the rest. However, if you read the Politifact fact check report (warning: you will be forced to watch a commercial) you will discover that...

Your tax dollars at work

Something called The House Committee on Government Reform looked into the matter. In fact, they spent 11 months on it and issued a 317-page report. I'll betcha a nickel they spent more, a lot more, than $200,000 of other peoples money to produce that report.

Politifact points out that the report didn't accuse the Hilliam of criminal behavior. However, there were "shortcomings". Some gifts were apparently and deliberately undervalued. The paper trail occasionally got "twisted". It looks like some of the "donations" were solicited (HOOGE no-no).

But hey, the rules concerning giving stuff to the White House and/or it's current temporary residents are spread out across multiple laws and administered by a half dozen offices/agencies (shocking huh?) Politifact helpfully points out.

And hey, the Hilliam did turn in a list. And they did write that check. And they did return $48,000 worth of furniture.

I know, I know... You're saying to yourself, I wonder what they left off the list? But if we can't trust the Hilliam, two public servants that have devoted their lives to public service; members in good standing of the party of the working man person (well, at least unionized public sector working persons) who can you trust?

OK, so anyway...

[Wait-wait-wait. Ain't this supposed to be a column about the Hilliam's net worth? We're at about the, let's see -- one, two, three... let's call it the 850-word point and...]  

Sorry everybody, Dana's right. One sec', I'll be right back. (Insert soft jazz soundtrack, here).


The Hilliam's net worth is, well, "It depends on what the meaning of the word 'is' is -William Jefferson Clinton, 42nd president of the United States of America.

OK, as you would expect, it's um, complicated. While I couldn't find an estimate for the couple in question (read into that what you will), there are estimates of their individual net worths, including their daughter, Chelsea who is estimated to be worth...

[What? who cares? What's Chelsea's net worth got to do with...]

 $15,000,000.

[$15,000,000?!? How the hell is Chelsea worth...]

It's complicated. But here's the fun fact that put an end to my research and to my motivation Dana. According to Forbes, as of 2016, the Hilliam had made $240,000,000 since leaving the White House, mostly by talking.

Of course, that's gross income. From what I can tell, after taxes, expenses. and comfy/fluffy robes, their net worth is somewhere in the neighborhood of a $100,000,000 (plus or minus 10,000,000). But then again, that was two years ago. They've continued talking, and have continued to be paid for talking, ever since.

I wonder if I could get them to donate $5,000,000 to the Save the Garrulous Geezer foundation. Don't they run some sort of charity? Excuse me, I've got an email to write. Poppa loves you.

Have an OK day.


[P.S. Gentlereaders, for 25¢ a week, no, seriously, for 25¢ a week you can become a Patron of this weekly column and help to prevent an old crank from running the streets at night in search of cheap thrills and ill-gotten gains.

If there are some readers out there that think my shtuff is worth a buck or three a month, color me honored, and grateful. Regardless, if you like it, could you please share it? There are buttons at the end of every column.]


©2017 Mark Mehlmauer   (The Flyoverland Crank)

If you're reading this on my website (where there are tons of older columns, a glossary, and other goodies) and if you wish to react (way cooler than liking) -- please scroll down. 

As to comments...Patrons can click on the community button of my Patreon page and post any comment they would like (be gentle with me). They are also given an email address for the exclusive use of Patrons (again, be gentle) when they sign up.  

Everyone else is welcome to go to my Facebook page. Scroll down to the relevant posting (I post new column announcements every Sunday morning) and have at me.