Net Cotton Content / On Life and Marketing, Creativity and Ethics

One Learning Down, Eight To Go

A few days ago, I described the nine things I want to learn this summer.

One of them was how to fix a flat tire on a bicycle. Problem is: you can't fix a tire that isn't flat. It's a lesson of opportunity.

Opportunity Achieved
Yesterday, I woke up, got out of bed, dragged a comb across my head. Found my way downstairs and had a cup. And looking up, I noticed I was late. (Huh, huh, huh, huh.)

Another day in the life. Ready to ride my bike downtown – and my rear tire was flat as could be. It made that sad, little squeaky noise, like when one mistakenly wears one's rubber soled shoes in the shower. Silly one.

Normally, I would have been disappointed to have a flat tire. It did scratch my ride during one of the prettiest days of the year.

But, since learning to fix a flat bicycle tire was on my List Of Nine Things To Learn This Summer, the flat tire seemed like a fully inflated opportunity.

I'm Pumped
During my last flat tire repair six months ago – at B1 Bicycles at 124 East Long Street, Downtown Columbus – my former CCAD student Sally taught me how to fix a flat.

I remembered how. As the pedagogy says: watch once, do it once, teach it once. (I still need to teach it once. If you get a flat tire, call me. Really. I'd love to tu-u-u-u-u-rn ... yo-o-o-o-u ... o-o-o-o-n.)

I had bought the materials from Sally last year – and patiently waited to ride over glass.

Did I ride over glass on purpose a couple days ago? No. That would be stupid. It wasn't stupidity; it was serendipity. It's funny how teachable moments happen when you ask for them.

Eight more lessons and I'll be ready for the leaves to change.
 

No more Jay-Biking

Doug Morgan is right.

Doug is my rolling role model, my two-wheeling muse, my eco-physio-communal inspiration. Doug bikes to work most every day. (Once, I biked with him, but disliked the taste of my own blood.)

Doug is right.

He observed me riding a bicycle in traffic and saw me take unlawful advantage of being on a bike: when there was no moving traffic, I zipped through a red light.

It's not normal behavior for me. I'm pretty strict about adhering to the law. Of all my fears, a top five fear is going to jail.

The Jay-Biker's Rationalization
Running a red light on a bike is so available and so juicy when there's no crossing traffic in any direction and, really, who expects a bicycle to wait at a traffic light when there is no cross traffic?

Plus, it's safer for the bicyclist to cross a big intersection when there is no traffic flowing from any direction. Similarly, I've read that jaywalkers are safer crossing in the middle of a block (where there is only cross traffic) than lawful pedestrians crossing at an intersection (where traffic is flowing in various directions and turning). If safety is our goal, then I should be a jay-biker.

Doug's Argument
Doug gently admonished me. "Please don't do that," he said. He went on...

"There is such tension between automobile drivers and bicyclists. The tension — and the danger it produces — could be resolved if: (1) each automobile driver would recognize each bike rider's right to a safe share of the road; and (2) each bike rider would obey the laws of the road."

Ever the lawyer-citizen, Doug added this gem:

"Every time someone breaks a law, even a small infraction, I think that democracy dies a little bit."

My Pledge
Now, today, in the Columbus Dispatch, comes a front-page story of the tension between bicyclists and drivers. 

Today, I renounce jay-biking. I will uphold the law.

Now, egad, my self-righteousness is complete. Run for your lives.

Talk tonight

A couple weeks ago, I mentioned that I've been invited to deliver this year's Heisler Lecture on Business Ethics at Ohio Wesleyan University.

I've worked up a passionate and, I hope, informed talk on the Ethics of Speech in Business (and Life).

Tonight is the night (Monday, April 7) and...

You are cordially invited.

Admission is free. The organizers expect about 170 attendees.

All you have to do is come to the Delaware campus. Here's the Google map to get you to the Benes Rooms of Ohio Wesleyan University’s Hamilton-Williams Campus Center 40 Rowland Avenue, Delaware, Ohio.

The talk starts at 7:30 p.m.

(Spoiler alert: Don't peek if you are attending. Here are the slides I'm using.)

But what if you can't wait until 7:30?
What if you want to hear a talk, any talk, right now?

Then, dear reader, you have issues.

So here — in the convenience of your computer — is another talk from TED ("Ideas Worth Spreading") that is wonderfully interesting. (Thanks to Tina for sending it my way.)

In the following video, a brain scientist finally explains the idea of Right Brain/Left Brain in a way that even I can understand. She understands the difference, because she personally had a stroke that interrupted the left side of her brain.

Here's Jill Bolte Taylor describing My Stroke of Insight.

(If the video below takes too long to load, just click here and you'll go straight to her talk on the TED website.)

Recessionary Tongue

We're all geniuses during economic expansion.

We feel like dopes during a recession.

Welcome to the recession, ya big dope. (Don't feel bad. You're the smartest of the dopes.)

When we feel like dopes, nerves get frayed.

...and tongues get loose.

My smartest friends say, "If only folks wouldn't talk about it being a recession, perhaps it wouldn't be a recession."

This might sound simplistic, but let's be honest: what we say leads to what we do.

Time To Measure Our Speech
Rather than talking negatively about the economy — or anything or anyone else — let's celebrate the coming of Our Recession by examining how we talk.

And examining how how we talk leads to how we live. (How how, brown cow?)

To help, the lovely people at Ohio Wesleyan University have asked me to deliver the Woltemade Center’s Annual Heisler Lecture on Business Ethics. Here is the announcement — and your invitation.

So I'm going to do it, by golly. (You don't have to ask me twice.) Together, we will explore the ethics of speech and how businesses — and our lives in business — are shaped by what we say.

It's free and open to the public. This means you. Please come. Here are directions to the event.

The Happiest Guy in the World

Sometimes, I think that the happiest guy in the world is the person who gives nothing to charity.

Right: nothing.

Why are you happy if you give nothing to charity?

1. You must think that everyone is pretty much OK without your help. That's such a nice thought, the thought of a world redeemed, a childlike thought -- it almost puts me to sleep.

2. You aren't ever frustrated by your charitable limits. For example, you don't worry that your increased gift to Charity A means you can't give as much to Charity B. More than that, you aren't plagued by the idea that you don't have the resources to help in as many situations as you'd like.

You're just plain happier. Plus you have more money to spend on things you need. And, hopefully, a lot of things you want. And maybe things you don't even know you want. Yet.

Your non-contributions are like micro-economic stimulus packages in your own home. You are a self-stimulating micro-economy. Sweet!

I speak from experience.
I was a heckuva lot happier before I started giving to charity. (Sure, now I think I have more meaning in my life. But, man, at what cost?)

And I don't even give enough to truly make a difference. Imagine how frustrated Bill and Melinda Gates must be.

Really.

Want to shed some happiness? Want to get frustrated by giving time and money to others? Here are some ideas to get you started on the road to perdition.

It Takes An Amusement Park To Raise A Child

Ohio is the Amusement Park State. We have more amusement parks — in total, per capita, and per acre — than any other state.   

O-H?   I-O!

While this is an odd distinction, it's important to the economy. And Ohio's economy could stand to become a lot more amusing.

Now according to The Morning Journal in Lorain, Ohio, the schools around Cedar Point have decided to schedule their first day of school after Labor Day. Why? Because starting school earlier was bad for the amusement park business.

What the?
At first, this got my dander up. I thought, "Education must never curtsy to amusement."

But, then, I realized my first thought was wrong.

 Starting school after Labor Day is smart because it...

... gives kids more great summer days. Kids need as many summer days as they can get.

... conforms to memory. Labor Day is the day we expect summer vacation to end. Why fight that?

... is easier. A lot of working families have a hard enough time arranging day care for the younger, pre-school siblings. Starting school right before a three-day weekend just taunts us all.

... helps the local economy. What's wrong with that? The entire summer vacation was designed so that, when we were an agricultural society, we'd have kids to work the fields. So vacation has always been about helping the local economy.

Will kids suffer less education? Nope. Er, no. The schools will still provide the state-mandated 180 days of education.

I just don't want to hear any complaints from the kids in Sandusky when summer vacation starts a few days later next year. That's the meaning of life kids, as taught to me by my ninth grade biology teacher, Phil Hess: "There's no free lunch."

Here's The Test
Where would you rather be: at school or on the Mantis? (I prefer the thrills of school.) Here's the Mantis. Note: the riders are standing up!

Here's how Cedar Point describes the Mantis on their website:

Stand up to your fears aboard Mantis. Built in 1996, Mantis is one of the tallest and fastest stand-up scream machines in the world.

Built by the same legendary manufacturers that brought guests the Raptor roller coaster, Bolliger and Mabillard (B & M), Monthey, Switzerland, Mantis is yet another unique ride experience at Cedar Point. Guests board high-tech trains and fly down a 145-foot-tall first hill at an outrageous top speed of 60 mph, all while standing up! That's right, standing up!

In 2006, 1,110,685 guests conquered their fears and rode the Mantis, with more than 14 million riding since it first opened 11 seasons ago.

B&M, indeed.

The Cost of Saying "No"

In an article this weekend in The Columbus Dispatch, reporter Mark Ferenchik reports on the problem with panhandlers. Local restaurateurs in the Short North district complain that aggressive panhandling threatens patrons and business.

Years ago, a civic group, busy thinking of ways to make downtown a better place for business and culture, developed a poster. The poster stated: "It's OK to say 'no' to a panhandler."

I stopped by their storefront offices and asked for a copy of the poster. A friend who works there — a good chap, very civic minded in both words and deeds — asked if I wanted it for the front window of Young Isaac.   

"Oh, no," I said. "I want it to take to my Sunday school class so I can show my students something that is ethically wrong."

Awkward silence. Then, after glancing over his shoulder, he whispered to me, "You know, I agree with you."

Know What "No" Means
You have your rights. You can say no to someone in need. All I ask is that you consider this:

• Let's sharpen our language. Let's skip words like "panhandler." That's someone's brother out there. She's your distant cousin, even if you are wealthy beyond your needs and wants. We are all related.
• Can you give $5 and have the same dinner tonight? Then let's not talk about the financial cost of saying "yes." You can afford to say "yes."
• If you say, "no," do you have the courage to say anything more? Like "hello," "good luck," or "I'm sorry." If I just walk by, completely ignoring someone who is speaking to me, I am denying him his dignity. What does that make me?

The argument of the restaurateurs and merchants isn't about ethics; it's about business. As a business owner, I respect their difficulty. I've got my complaints, too.

But What Kind Of World Do We Want?
Years ago, a pregnant woman set up camp each day in front of Young Isaac. She begged and each time I passed her, I gave her some money.

I didn't know her story. At first, I wondered if my money was charity, or my naive answer to her fraudulent request for help.

We often don't know. Some people refuse to give to 100 beggars because one of them might be lying. I choose to give to 100 beggars because one of them might be telling the truth.

Efficiency is not my goal when feeding the hungry.
Feeding the hungry is the goal.

In this case, she was lying. After about four months, and no change in her medical condition, a co-worker asked me why I continued to give her money: "You know she's not really pregnant."

It's true. She wasn't pregnant. She had a pillow under her sweatshirt. Each evening she climbed into a car filled with young women and pillows. I saw them. Off they drove with my money.

But I continued to give each day. I gave her money and I always gave her a kind word.

Am I a sap? Perhaps. Did the money go to alcohol or drugs? Perhaps? Did the money go to an abusive supervisor? Perhaps.

But I don't want to live in a world where we ignore the pleas of pregnant women. Though I knew she wasn't pregnant, she looked pregnant from across the street. I don't want a young person, across the street, to see me sidestep an opportunity to help a stranger in need. What sort of world would that be? Economically just? Ethically impoverished.

So I gave. And it didn't change what I had for dinner.

The problem is: begging isn't a cause, it's a result of many failed public policies — or an imperfect world. And my gift enables much ill behavior. But I can't solve those problems right now. So I'm going to make the mistake of giving cash to strangers.

Because, just maybe, my kindness might work.

(P.S.: Right after writing this, I went to Blockbuster to return a video. A fellow approached me in the parking lot, walking with a 6-year-old child. He told me a story of deprivation. I thought about this blog. It cost me $5.)

You already know what I think of begging on Halloween.

Shave off a little Morgan

Doug Morgan is my hero.

In my continuing hero worship, I shall now steal his story. (With disciples like me, who needs plagiarizers?)

Doug spake thusly:

I went to the bike store recently and asked whether I should upgrade to the new titanium frame. It costs hundreds, maybe a thousand dollars more. What's the benefit? You can shave a couple pounds off the bike. So I asked the bike guy, Dave Baer, "Should I buy one of these? Is it the cost worth the decrease in weight?"

Dave looked at me. Then he confirmed my question by asking me, "You're willing to spend a lot of money taking two pounds off your bike?"

"Yes, I think so," I said. "What do you recommend?"

Dave answered: "You want to shave off a couple of pounds. Here's a way to do that without spending any money at all." He pats his trim stomach. "Eat a smaller lunch everyday. Shave a couple pounds off your frame. It will have the same overall effect on your biking. And, of course, it will be better for you anyway."

This is more than a story about biking and Doug Morgan. It's a story about ethical marketing. What did Dave Baer do? He told the truth. He gave great advice. He sacrificed a thousand-dollar sale. What did he get? A lifelong trust from Doug Morgan, who will over time buy everything in the store, including the titanium frame.

And now you've also read the story. That's what Dave Baer did.

You want more Doug Morgan? Sure you do. Visit his Two Wheeling blog.

When adults go bad

Do you ever wonder, "What is the difference between ethics and civil law?" Here's a terrifying case with an adult's behavior that is unethical and immoral, truly reprehensible, yet weirdly not illegal.

This despicable adult uses MySpace, leading to a girl's suicide. As usual, The New Yorker offers a stunning description and perspective. Click here to read Lauren Collins' "The Friend Game" in The New Yorker.

This article makes it clear why we should all study the ethics of speech.

Food for thought

I was relatively healthy until my wife returned to school. You see, instead of becoming a librarian (which was the plan all along), she became a nurse.

My health hasn't changed, but now I'm preoccupied by the health risks of everything. Alisa knows too much about what drives The Body Machine. And she says she wants me to live a long time.

But I don't know what's good for me. This is a special bother when it comes to food. Alisa tells me that Frosted Flakes are deadlier than Honey Nut Cheerios, but the labels claim equal deadliness. So why can't I have Frosted Flakes? They're terrrific.

It's not just me
Apparently, according to "Is It Healthy? Food Rating Systems Battle It Out" by Andrew Martin in The New York Times, a lot of us are feeling frenzied by the decisions in the supermarket.

It makes me wonder about the consumer ethics: