Let's talk about rules

Rules are meant to be broken.

Without rules, society would crumble.

Rules, rules, rules. Thinking about rules this morning as I drove my kids to school.

My son didn't want to be late to school. I promised him a fishing rod. This morning, as he was dragging his feet, getting ready for school. I put a zip in his step by removing my promise if he was late to school.

So as we jumped in the car, he told me, "Step on it". The next five minutes we talked about laws, and the consequences to breaking laws. Declaring there were no policemen around, I asked if it was ok to break rules when no one was looking. Another teachable moment I thought to myself...

Getting home, laws kept bubbling to the surface of my boiling brain. There is one law that cannot be misunderstood - Pareto's Law. Most of us will know it as the 80/20 rule.

80% of profits come from 20% of our customers.
80% of our joy comes from 20% of our day.
80% of our memories come from 20% of our activities.
80% of our wisdom comes from 20% of our experiences.
80% of our health comes from 20% of the choices we make.

If Pareto's Law is true, then it's the small things that make the biggest impact on our lives, our loves, our children, our jobs and our memories.

Using a business example for a second, imagine what the marketing budget looks like when a restaurant focuses so intently on its existing client base that the only clients they lose are those who die, move or have a life altering event.

It's easier said than done, but imagine finding out what exactly makes your spouse feel appreciated. Then doing more of those activities no matter how small and insignificant they seem to you.

80% of appreciation will be felt by 20% of your effort.

Is it hard to say "Thank you"? How about washing the dishes after a hearty dinner? Maybe making the bed every morning is a simple message of appreciation?

It doesn't matter what it is, the rule is simple and true. The majority of rewards will come from a much smaller portion of your activities.

To succeed with money, joy, memories, wisdom, love and health, my recommendation is to identify those influential activities so you can do more of them to reap even greater rewards in your life.

Now I know why it seems like my kids don't listen to me.

80% of the things I tell them gets absorbed 20% of the time.

What we remember the most...

As I write this, Willie Nelson's "On the Road Again", is playing in the background of my brain. Sitting in a hotel room thinking of the events of a simple transaction yesterday creates a slight upward thought that encourages the corner of my lips to go in the same upward direction.

Last night, I arrived at my hotel destination. The hotel has been in this city for 25 years. It is my preferred spot to sleep in this town. It's a huge multinational chain and it's not the cheapest hotel out there. It doesn't have complimentary breakfasts. I've never seen its pool.  This is the type of hotel I wouldn't bring my kids. Yet, the first time I stayed here, when I was 23, we had a wild and crazy night. A wedding shindig that ended up with all our friends dancing on the roof of the foyer. I looked down from my room tonight to see that very same roof and wondered if the hotel management ever welded shut those windows on the 3rd floor. We can't be the only ones to ever do that...

Nostalgia out of the way, the hotel had a facelift since my last visit. It's beautiful as far as hotel lobbies go. I remember a hotel lobby once in Manhattan that had all the treasures of richness only to misrepresent my expectations of the hotel rooms. From that one experience, I learned to never judge a hotel book from its lobby cover.  

The employee at the front desk answers my questions about the facelift by saying, "We went through a massive renovation in 2011. That year was an extremely tough year as we worked through the discomfort of change. But thanks to that trying time, you and I can both enjoy our time here today."

How philosophical that statement is for both this hotel and people in general. Thanks nameless hotel guy for this wonderful line that I will now use unapologetically for the rest of my life.

Before he hands over the room key, he delights me with another gift. With my room comes a complimentary "premium" beer at the bar. 

What??? I've never been given a free beer before in a hotel. 

A free beer. 

A gift.

No strings attached.

It wasn't advertised on Expedia when I booked the room. And it never will be. 

The beer price is built into the price. It's not going to show up on an expense claim. It's such a small gift that most competitors don't think it has value. The value is massive. It created a moment of delight. It's different and it's remarkable enough to share. And share ability is what any good business should be striving for.

After enjoying my free beer, I went to the room to witness that the cover of this hotel book was well representative of its contents. The room was great! Yet, it was the toiletries that brought another smile across my increasingly impressed face.  The hotel took the simple and made it impressionable. A simple message usually reserved for the social mechanisms of Facebook or Pinterest. And now I'm sharing it.

I know. It's just soap. But for me, this simple message could have been easily left off the bottles like every other hotel chain does. And it wouldn't have changed my overall experience. But this little message becomes a layer of increasing positiveness that warms my heart, encourages my fingers to type, intrigues my brain and moves my wallet.

It's not enough to attain average. Good is the enemy of great. No one remembers the average. No one cares about the mediocre.

In football we cheer for the star quarterback, not the faceless centre.

In business, we remember the shareable experiences, not the ones that are like everyone else.

In life, we remember the crazy moments, not the everyday ones where we just live and put in time.

Culture and Energy

Going to my favourite sandwich franchise today, I witnessed real magic. This was not the slight of hand magic trick that illusionists do. This magic is stuff concocted by marketing wizards. But even marketing wizards cannot dream up what an 18 year old cashier was able to do at this location.

Let me explain. A new dessert is plastered all over the dining room. This is nothing special. Many restaurants promote a monthly special or a new product this way. They try to instigate trial to raise average cheque or to increase frequency of visit. This is the usual marketing practice and this is where these promotions fail. They don't have an active ability to encourage staff to sell the product. And most good products die on the idea table because of the inability to sell on the floor.

I have been at other franchised units in this chain and nothing compares to the experience I received today. It was remarkable. No. It was shareable. And that's all any good business should be striving for - share ability!

So, when I got to the cash to order my sandwich, there was a plain white piece of paper taped to the cash register. The page explained that the chain had a national sales contest amongst stores to sell the most desserts. This location was currently second in the country. The winner will get Henrik Zetterberg, who is a well known NHL hockey player, to visit the store.

The page wasn't remarkable. Although the story was interesting, it wasn't enough to get me excited. I don't live in this town. I don't like the team Zetterberg plays for and I don't give two shits about the player either.

So a young girl comes to the cash to take my order and here's the interaction between us.

"Would you like a Snowball with your sandwich?"
"No thank you".
"We're currently in second place in the country. If we finish in first in the country by selling enough Snowballs, we're gonna get Henrick Zetterberg in our store."
"Yeah, I see that, but no thanks"
"Did you know they are only $____ (I can't remember the exact price)?"
"Yeah, but I really don't want sugar".
"You can give it to someone else if you'd like, but it's gluten free and each one only has 73 calories. You deserve a treat".
"You're making it tough on me, but I'm still gonna decline."
"Ok, it's going to be amazing to have a real NHL'er in our store. Do you know how many young kids this could affect."

She still had a smile on her face the whole time. She wasn't pushy. She was energetic. She was supporting a community cause - getting an NHL'er in her store. Everyone in front of me ordered one. I have no doubt this store is going to win the contest because of the young people working there.  Then I watched the rest of the team interact with each other and with customers as they smiled, laughed and joked around.

This location has become my favourite store in this chain. The management team has embraced a national promotion and created an energy that increases employee interaction with customers, average cheque, community spirit, and ultimately customer delight.

Congratulations Pita Pit Oromocto. You impressed me and that's not easy to do!

Trading my fake job for my real job: Day 15

This is IT. The last full day that I'm a single parent. Tomorrow our Queen comes home!

I'm not sure if I was in denial or if I'm getting worn down by the kids. They are starting to bug me. And I'm bugging them. They've released the "idontlikes" on me. For 14 days, things went amazingly well. But today, the fighting has begun.

First of all, I'm definitely part of the problem. Letting an eight year old watch hockey until 11:20 is not a good idea, even if it does make him happy at the time. I've repaid that debt today.

Second of all, the kids are getting tired of eating down the stored food supply. As the pickins get slimmer, the kids get whinier. Today the whining was based on the lack of snacks we had in the pantry. According to both kids, snacks that no one likes means nothing to eat. I asked, pleaded, begged, and cried for them to eat up the remaining crappy snacks we had left so that mommy could go buy the good stuff again. But alas, I am but one man, and the kids can see through my weakness. They know their saviour will be home tomorrow and all that is wrong with the world will be righted again upon the royal return of the Beautiful Highness.

The dog tried to commit suicide! Things must be going downhill. She puked in her bed, on the kitchen floor, on the sofa, on the boy's favourite blanket and now on one of the chairs. She's still eating. Just to be safe, I will keep her out of the kennel for the night. She'll sleep near me where I can keep an eye on her.

There was an empty plastic wrapper on the floor. It looked like one of the candy wrappers you would get at the end of a restaurant meal. But when I looked closer, I saw little pebbles that looked like little clear marbles. The bag looked like something you'd find in a new jacket pocket. I don't know where this bag came from but the dog ate it. She probably wanted to end her life. She has no reason to live without her mommy and sleeping in a kennel every night is no way to sleep for a royal princess.

We spoke to the Queen as she was waiting for a taxi to bring her to the airport. She's tired and can't wait to get home. She's got 24 hours of flying and hanging around in airports. If she's tired now, wait until we pick her up tomorrow. She's gonna be exhausted, with two little kids wanting to catch up on the lack of attention.

I'm done. Things are starting to piss me off. I want to go back to work and not have to worry about supper, laundry, dog puke and bed times. It will be nice to see my Queen.

I miss her a lot.

I wonder if she misses me at all...

Trading my fake job for my real job: Day 14

I had the best sleep last night. Probably had something to do with no 3 am whining wake up calls from the dog. Nevertheless the day started with me waking up from a dream where I was putting the dog out for a pee. Coming into consciousness, I remembered putting her in the garage last night. So I hustled downstairs not worrying about a t-shirt nor socks. She needs to go outside. She was happy to see me and rushed to the front door. Once she was outside, it gave me a chance to do my business.  I hear a bark, followed by a double bark, followed by a triple bark. Rushing to the door, barely getting my shorts back on, the only thought is that someone is walking on the road and the dog is sprinting toward them. When I get to the door, she's ten feet away looking off to the left, bouncing as she takes every threatening bark. She doesn't come to my command, which isn't surprising. I have to break her concentration so I clap my hands, shout her name, whistle but to no avail. I'm getting cold. Yet she's focused on something. Probably a raven, I think to myself. She bolts across the lawn to the left of the driveway. The side of the house obscures my view, so I step out onto the cold cement step to peer off to the left. There's a massive raccoon to the left of the driveway and my 15 pound dog has decided to chase it down. In a pair of shorts, I sprint barefoot out the driveway to stop my puppy from getting her life clawed out. Stupid dog probably thinks the raccoon is another defenseless declawed kitty like her friend in the house.

I convince the dog that this animal is not worth her time. She'd kick this kitty's ass. "Come on, now, leave him alone, he's not worth it." I must have said something that broke her focus. Maybe it was the yelling at this early morning hour that surely woke the neighborhood, but in either case, she agreed and we ran back to the house together. Only when I get back inside that I realize that I was barefoot and bare chest on this chilly April morning. My feet started hurting from the little pebbles trying to penetrate the epidermus of the soles of my feet. With the adrenaline rush of chasing my guard dog, I was not cold until I got back into the house.

Today is clean-up day part two. My queen will be home in two days and I must make her castle look as good as it was before she left. So after the kids are fed, I take upon the task of completing my cleaning list.

The boy liked the fact there was more time for playing today.

The girl drew pictures most of the day.

Supper was another hit. My mom taught me that everything is better deep fried. So I took some fish that no one would eat but me, rolled it in batter and deep fried it to everyone's demand for more. I gained 4 pounds while our queen was away and we never ate in a restaurant once. I definitely don't make the same nutritious meals that mommy makes.

The boy wanted to watch his favourite hockey team play in tonight's playoffs, so once again he went for a 6 pm nap. I woke him up at 8 pm to watch the game. At one point, we were snuggling on the sofa, watching the game and drinking our beers, when I rubbed his head and told him I loved him. He straightened up, turned to me and said, "I know". Wanting to know how an eight year old sees love, I asked him how he knew. His answer created a tear out of the corner of my left eye. "Because you tell me almost every day".

Despite all the shit we go through, all the discipline, all the disappointments, my boy knows I love him because he says I tell him almost every day. He couldn't have made my day any better with that.

The game went into overtime. There's no way we're going to stay up and watch the extra period or periods. It's a school night. So I offer the boy a solution. We go to my bedroom, turn on the TV and lay in bed. With a suitable solution, we go to bed. About 20 minutes go by, as I wander off to never never land, the boy shouts in joy. His team has scored the game winning goal. Great, now we can turn off the TV and go to sleep. He accepts my offer to sleep with me tonight, so away we go together to our independent dream worlds.

Trading my fake job for my real job: Day 13

Second Saturday of my single parent life means today is the day I get to do the work I will never get paid for. But it has to be done so I start my workday at 9 am. The kids entertain themselves so I'm left to clean, clean, clean. This is more spring cleaning than anything else, but it is going to be so worth it.

Around three in the afternoon, we decide to hit the local ice cream shop that has reopened to the nice weather. The kids sucker me into buying a medium sized cone for each of them. I haven't spent much time with them today, so to compensate for my lack of time, I buy their love with an extra scoop of frozen sugared cream. There's no way they are gonna eat the mountain of sugar so we get an accompanying bowl so I don't have to do more cleaning in the car afterwards.

We bring the car to the car wash and give it a soapy shower to surprise our Queen upon her arrival. Then we slip over to the grocery store to pick up some bathroom cleaner. Nothing smells better than a clean bathroom. Gotta show mommy that we've worked hard while she was away.

But before we can get the bathroom cleaner, the boy declares that he has too much ice cream. Luckily I didn't buy any for me. His scoop and a half has become my treat for working so hard today. But it means I have to eat it before we go inside or the dog, who we've brought along for our adventure, will surely eat it or spill it. So we spend five minutes in the parking lot, while I devour the left over sugar cream. While in the car, our daughter and I realize that sugar has affected the boy more than usual. He is bouncing from one seat to another and he's not listening. Going into the grocery store was interesting. He was grabbing things off the shelves like a two year old. I was constantly reminding him to keep up or put that back or don't touch that.

Getting back to the car after purchasing the needed supplies, our daughter immediately opens the door to an awaiting, happy puppy, who decides that she's not going to be locked up for another second. She escapes the vehicle and runs around the car to greet me on the driver's side. Luckily, she doesn't run around the parking lot and also as lucky there wasn't any traffic at the moment of her escape. Worried, I pick up the dog and jump back into the car. Another close call...

Then as we're leaving the parking lot, the boy asks if I will play hockey with him. I explain to him that I have to make supper first. I'm tired. I'm losing my patience and I'm hungry. The trinity of potential pissed off-ness. Then he activates the trinity by saying, "Well this is just another junk day."

I lost it on him asking where ice cream, playing with the water hose, getting his bike out and some of the other little things we did ranked on his junk day. He never said a word the rest of the way home. About an hour later, he came to see me and sincerely apologized. This is the second apology I've received from my children since the Queen started cruising South America. I'm liking this new attitude. His little remark lost his hockey viewing priveleges, so he was working hard to get them back.

In the end, he got them back. Remember, I just want to be a good dad. I made my point. And we'll all friends again.

The rest of the night was great. No other issues. We did play a bit later that night.

I put in a big day. Don't want to say what I did in case the Queen reads the blog.

The puppy got another kennel night. She's getting frustrated with her nightly prison. Tonight she started whining and scratching at the door when I was putting the kids to bed. No patience to outlast the painful cries of a lonely dog, I put the kennel in the garage. It's not that cold anymore. If she wants to pull this spoiled dog crap, she can do it where no one will here her.

Trading my fake job for my real job: Day 12

The Queen emailed us. I could see her tears in her response to our funny video. The kids are starting to miss her. Later on that night, she Skyped us. The kids were competing for the screen and a fight almost broke out as they talked to their mother. Luckily, mommy's internet connection was very good. Her video was choppy so she didn't see the war that was about to erupt. Or she was just so happy to see us, she just ignored it.

Our daughter is still sick and may be getting worse. She didn't want to get up this morning. When I finally woke her up, she covered her face in her blankets and exclaimed that she didn't sleep much. Oh, oh! I can't afford a sick kid staying home from school. With no fever, she went to school and had a good day otherwise.

Our son watched his second playoff hockey game. Wearing his Montreal Canadien jersey, he watched every move as if he were a scout, chomping on his popcorn and sipping on his beer. Don't worry mommy, it was the Root kind. His grandfather called to tease him when the opposing team scored. The teasing didn't phase him and he insisted that we call him back when his team scored. It's a lot of fun watching hockey with him. I have seen more complete games with my boy than I have otherwise watched in five years. We have real father/son moments when we sit down, watch some puck and drink some beer.

Dog got another kennel night. She started yapping immediately this time, but quickly calmed down when she realized that no one was coming to save her. Her saviour is 5000 miles away and she can't hear her.

Trading my fake job for my real job: Day 11

The boy woke up 20 minutes late. He was poopy tired, but happy he got to see the game last night. Breakfast was again a joke. No major problems and they got to school on time again.

With a couple of great meetings in the city, I was able to get some work done and still be a fulltime parent who was home when the kids got off the education factory's taxi service.

Supper and homework was also easy. The kids got it off lucky tonight. I had some work I wanted to catch up on so they were able to do what they wanted for three hours.

At 8pm, they both had their showers. I went for a run on the treadmill while the boy watched hockey and the girl watched something else on the other TV. Remember when most homes had only one television. And there were only three channels on the dial. I'm not sure how we survived with so few choices, let alone no remote control.

When I finished running on the spot, I put the kids to bed.

Bedtime was also easy, peezy. Mommy sent an email saying she loved us all. So we replied with a video message just before bedtime. Kids were crazy funny. I'm sure the Queen will cry when she sees it.

My mom left for Mexico today, so now my backup support is gone. Let's hope there are no surprises for five more sleeps.

Time to watch a bit of hockey before putting the dog in her kennel for the night. This will be three nights of kennel sleeping. No more messes on the floor. But she wakes us up consistently at 3am and 7am just as timely as an alarm clock.

As cute as she is, I hate the dog.

Trading my fake job for my real job: Day 10

Two thirds of the way there. When my kids were babies, just when I got too comfortable with a situation, they would change the rules to mess me all up. All kids are like that. Get used to them crawling around and then they start walking. Get used to getting up with them every four hours and then they sleep through the night.

Ten days into my new found comfort zone and my daughter woke up with a sore throat. It looks like a cold may be making its way through her body. It shouldn't be a surprise since she's come home three times without a coat in 6 degree weather.

I remember once I went to the Caribbean in January and all the Canadians were swimming in what the locals thought was cold water. The locals were all wearing light jackets and long pants, while we were running around shirtless.

I thought I was going to get a whiny girl who may try to take a day off school. I tried to give her echinacea but she was scared to swallow the mammoth cylinder. She wouldn't swallow it but instead wanted to chew it like gum. The look on her face was not surprising. Chasing the herbal taste with a litre of water, she vowed never to take another herbal pill again.

She took extra long to get ready this morning. Her bored brother decided to shoot some hoops instead of waiting. Insisting that everyone wear a jacket, two upset kids dragged their feet and wasted their time while I impatiently waited in the car with the dog.

15 minutes late, we showed up to the factory to drop off the little workers.

Kids were great at supper. Another night lacking in the "idontlikes". I'm loving this new attitude. I'm wondering if it's because I'm such a great cook or if they are just being nice.

Our son asked if he could stay up late to watch the hockey game tonight. Playoffs start tonight and he's a bit a hockey nut. Agreeing to let him watch the game on the one condition that he take a nap from six until eight pm, he happily skips upstairs to change into his pyjamas.

Once I got him to bed, I came downstairs and couldn't find our daughter. She wasn't upstairs because I just came from there. She wasn't in the kitchen, tv room or livingroom. She never goes to the basement so I wondered where she was hiding. The only way I stay ahead of these kids is by preparing supper a night in advance. So I go out to the garage to get hamburg from the freezer for tomorrow night's meal.

To my amazement, our daughter is playing outside. To understand this better, this girl doesn't like fresh air. In the summertime, when we're flopping around the pool, she stays inside to read. When we ride our bikes, she watches tv. She NEVER goes outside on her own. But she's outside and no one asked her to go. She's wearing a sweater but it's not zipped up. Her cold is about to get worse, but I'm so happy to see her outside.  I told my mom what happened. She thinks our daughter is starting to miss her mom.

Concerned about a mini depression settling in, I ask my beautiful daughter why she went outside on her own. Turns out she's not depressed. I asked her to unplug from all electronics before supper. She was bored and didn't want to read, so she went outside to chalk up the asphalt. If that's all it takes, I learned a new strategy for this summer.

Waking the boy up at eight pm, he confirms that he didn't sleep much. I might pay dearly for this decision tomorrow. He is happy and that makes me feel like I'm a good dad. Together we watch our beloved Montreal Canadiens win game one of the NHL playoffs. The game took a little more time to complete because of all the scoring and penalties in the second period. With 11 pm approaching, I was worried that there would be overtime. The game could go into the early morning. Prepping my son that after the third period, he would have to go to bed despite the score, it didn't look like I was going to get any pushback. He was lying into my chest, ready for bed. But he couldn't take his eyes of the television.

At 11 pm, we went to sleep and as I close my eyes, the only thing I pray for is that I don't get a grumpy kid the next morning. Only time will tell....

Trading my fake job for my real job: Day 9

One week from today and the real Queen is back in the house!

The dog is starting to get on my nerves. Second day in a row she leaves me a huge steaming present on the floor. That's it. She's sleeping in her kennel tonight. Not sure if she's punishing us for losing her mommy or if she's just stupid.

I decided to cook a turkey today. I didn't realize how easy it was. Not sure what all the fuss is about cooking a big bird. I feel so accomplished.

While the kids were at the mini-factory today, I went to the city and had two great meetings. In the second meeting, I was talking to a colleague about how much food we have in our house. I spent $40 on groceries last week to get some milk, bread and fruit. Besides that, the three of us have eaten well. Every day, I pull something out of the freezer. There's still enough in there for two more weeks. I started to clean out the pantry today only to realize that we have enough food there to last us at least three more weeks. Why do we have so much food? Plus I have a cooked turkey that I have to freeze now. There's no way we're eating that much turkey in a week.

Our son went to his first basketball practice tonight. He was really nervous. There's no basketball at his school so we had to drive 20 minutes to a strange school where he didn't know anyone. And everyone spoke English, which is his second language. I could tell he was nervous because he was quiet for the entire drive. Plus he went outside after supper to practice his dribbling and shooting. He was one of the youngest kids but he hustled the hardest on the floor. Proud papa I am.

He liked it so much, he wants to go back next week. Unfortunately, next week we have a scheduling conflict. His mom's coming home at the same time as practice. I asked him what he wanted to do. He suggested leaving his mom at the airport until after practice. Don't think that's gonna fly with our queen.

Coming home from basketball, the smell of Christmas overtook our noses as we entered the side door. Our daughter complained about having to brush her teeth with a mint toothpaste. She reminded me that I'm a bad father for not getting her favourite toothpaste for a second day in a row. I promised I wouldn't forget again. First thing tomorrow I have to go to the pharmacy or forever be cast as that father who wouldn't buy the right kind of toothpaste. I'll never live it down.

Once the kids went to bed, I pulled the meat off my turkey. Writing those last words, my warped mind started to giggle. I actually de-boned my bird. Ha, ha. I can't stop. I must be getting tired. Or it's the red wine.

In seven more sleeps, my Queen comes home...

Trading my fake job for my real job: Day 8

Monday is over. One more Monday and the Queen will be home. Kids went back to the education factory today, which gave me a huge break.

With the Queen of the house gone, my daughter has stepped up to be the new Queen. Only her role is significantly reduced to that of Drama. I've learned to ignore her. It's either that or start a fight. And I can't afford that emotional capital.

Today, when the monster came home from the factory, my daughter insisted on two things: first she wasn't going to do her homework and secondly, she was going to help her brother with his homework. There was no discussion. Every time I tried to change the conversation, she called me out. "Why won't you answer my question. You always say that when you ask a question, I need to answer it. Doesn't the same thing apply to you?" She doesn't understand that her brother has dyslexia and he needs special help with his reading. I didn't want to say anything in front of her brother, so I kept quiet.

With all the non answers, she got mad. And the Academy Award goes to Ms. Nicholson for Best Actress in a dramatic role. Although my nature is to not let her get away with her attitude, I'm a bit afraid of where this could go. Plus I'm super focused on getting supper ready, homework and doing dishes before my 6 pm conference call.

With supper in the over, I pass by the little girl to go to the bathroom. As I cross her path, I fully expect a sigh or a some smart, hurtful remark that could push me over the patience fence. Instead, I hear a faint, "I'm sorry daddy". Although low in voice, it spun me around like a record player. A female in my house was apologizing to me. This is a first. At first I didn't know what to say. Then before I could think about it, the words "Thank you" came out of my mouth. After a big hug, our relationship was back on the rails.

Whew! Another fight averted. Note to self, next time she pulls her shit, don't engage. Walk away and let her cool down. She has the ability to apologize. That's a huge skill.

The rest of the night went well. Kids went to bed again at a good time.

Trading my fake job for my real job: Day 7

Day 7 of my life of a single parent has been a breeze just like the previous six. Besides journaling each day, I've stopped counting the days until my queen arrives. Not sure if she's ever going to arrive. Besides one vague email, we haven't heard from her. Both her parents and mine are starting to ask questions that I can't answer. All I now is that she's in a jungle somewhere in South America. Wifi and cell coverage are probably non-existent. Indoor plumbing is a still a new idea in some parts of the world, so I'm sure mobile phones and internet connections are still 50 years away.

Today being Sunday, I am a bit worried that cabin fever may set in. I offered to go for a drive. They declined. I asked them to go outside. They refused. I gave up and let them watch their movies on Netflix. Good ole TV never lets me down as the babysitter. No fighting, quarreling or bickering. And daddy gets to do some of his own work.

At 3:30, my world broke apart. The boy goes skating every Sunday at 4 pm. Getting him ready is easy because he wants to go. It's the other monster that tore apart the illusion of my world. She didn't want to go. She doesn't want to get dressed. She has decided that she's now hungry. 

"When is mom coming home?"

"In another week."

"I'm hungry."

"I understand but when I asked you at lunchtime, you told me you weren't hungry."

"Well that was 3 hours ago and I'm hungry now, why don't you want to feed me? I'm starving here and you want me to die or something."

"How about a sandwich to carry you over to supper?"

"When is mom coming home? I miss her and I want mom to make me a sandwich. You just want to starve me out. If she doesn't come home soon, I might be dead from starvation".

"Ok, let's say I make you a sandwich."

"Alllllriiiiight. I want an egg sandwich."

"We don't have enough time for an egg sandwich. How about tuna?"

"I'm gonna be so skinny when mom comes home. What are we going to do with my clothes? None of them are going to fit with all this starvation."

"Tuna it is, get your boots on."

"Aaaaggghhh, I can't win with you. You always have to win. I don't want to go to the rink to watch my brother skate."

"Too bad, you knew all day we were going to do this. Can you please just cooperate for the rest of the day? I know you miss your mom. I do too. But all we got right now is each other. Let's work together to make it as good as possible."

"Ok"

Luckily for her, when we got to the rink, skating had been cancelled. Getting home earlier allowed me the time I needed to keep my little girl from starving. 

The rest of the night went well. I was playing video games with the boy, when we heard the girl scream out "Mommy's trying to call us". We both traded our controllers for the iPad. It's one thing to hear a voice. It's quite different to see a face. We missed her call, but we quickly redialed her Skype address. And there she was. She's alive. The video was crappy but the kids got to see their mom for about 15 minutes.  Both kids were trying to dominate the screen. They got so close, Momma Hen could see up the kids nostrils. She confirmed that technology is hard to come by. She'd try to communicate again but told us not to worry.

The quick conversation with their mother put the kids in excellent spirits. They went to bed without any commotion. Despite a mid night nightmare, which put one of the kids in my lonely bed, the night was uneventful.

Thank god for education factories. Tomorrow, my little workers are back at the shop working away while I get back to my routine.

Trading my fake job for my real job: Day 6

It's Saturday. Most people love the weekend. For me, I am afraid. It's the first day since my wife's absence that I have nothing planned to keep the kids occupied all day.

I woke up this morning to find out the dog has messed in the house, twice. I think she misses my wife the most. When my mom came over on Thursday, the dog jumped on my mom's lap and wouldn't leave her alone. She acted a lot like she does with my wife. Maybe it has something to do with estrogen or some female attraction. Since Aline left, the dog has slept every night with our daughter. That's a new habit.

Once the dog's messes are cleaned up. I start my day with the other cleaning. Bathrooms and floors have to be cleaned. It's a Saturday morning ritual. So I get to it. Our daughter asks me to go to a friend's house. Mother Hen has never let her go to this friend's house. I'm not sure if there is a good reason or not. At first, I dismiss the demand and keep my head down as I scrub the toilets.

She persists. I start a gauntlet of demands. Everything I ask of her is done with a smile. I could ask her to kiss her brother right now and I'm sure she'd do it if it meant that she could go to her friends. Since she's so behaved, I call her friend's mother to confirm that its ok. Thank god for icloud! My wife's contacts are all shared through the cloud. I make the decision that it can't be so bad. I let her go for 4 hours between lunch and supper.

With the girl gone for the afternoon, I have to entertain the boy. No real problems all afternoon except the sense of inequality that he's not going to a friend's house. The feeling flies over like a single rain cloud on a summer day. 

At 5 pm, I pick up our daughter. She's happy. Her friend is happy. The boy is ok. The dog is happy to be going for a drive. When we get home, supper is ready to be pulled out of the oven. It's a big hit. The kids compliment me by eating every last bite.

Another night without "idontlikes". I'm impressed more and more every day. I wonder what I do differently than my wife.

The day ended with me and the boy cheering on our beloved Montreal Canadiens against the hated Maple Leafs, while the girl watched a movie in the other room.

Easy peezy so far. I miss my wife, but this has been a hell of a lot easier than I expected. 

Trading my fake job for my real job: Day 5

Our boy plugged our toilet. I've never seen a toilet this jammed. One time a lady dropped her cell phone in our restaurant toilet when she flushed and it wasn't as plugged as this one. I considered taking it off the flange to see what's holding the water from draining. I'm betting there's a whole roll of toilet paper in there.

Despite the plugged shitter, the kids found their toys right away. They were dancing as they came down the stairs to greet their new found momentary hero.

Everything went well again. They haven't been late to school once this week. It has to be a new record. I'm really thinking they're scared of me.

When they got home from the education factory, I had a couple of errands to run. They didn't get a chance to play with their new toys but they didn't fight about taking a trip to the bank. A friend came to visit after supper and they quietly went about their business. No fighting, no interruptions, no whining. Even at bedtime, they went happily along with my requests.

No real news today. Our queen hasn't checked in yet. I'm getting worried. She hasn't been away from the kids for more than 1 day in her life.

Dishes are done every day. House is reasonably clean. Tomorrow is my weekly bathroom and floor detail, so that should be fun.

I haven't missed a day of exercise yet. The kids have given me slack. Even when they don't like supper, they eat it anyways without much flare. I have to admit, I'm impressed that they've taken it this easy on me so far.

There's still 10 days to go, so I'm not going to get too excited yet.

Trading my fake job for my real job: Day 4

It's now four days into my motherless adventures with the kids. Things have gone reasonably well so far. Today I am getting reinforcements. When the kids get home from the education factory, I have an hour and a half before I have to leave for the city. With two business functions, I won't be home until 11:30 pm, so Gramma is coming over for the evening.

When the kids get home, I have to do homework, cook supper, and wash the kids. I knew I was in trouble the minute they walked in. The boy had fallen and had a bloody finger. Looks like the nail is half torn off. It's gotta hurt.

While I'm cooking supper, I ask both kids to start their homework. It's one of those nights when tearing out my eyes would have been less painful. The girl started first by saying she just wasn't doing her homework. The boy was next by informing me that he "forgot" his homework at school. Luckily, I remembered 8 of the 10 spelling words, so we start based on my memory. It went downhill from there. Just as I was about to lose my mind, gramma showed up.

Not showered, I hustle to get ready for a 5:30 meeting in the city.  On my way out the door, my kids forget all of the earlier conflicts and happily remind me to stop at a Toys 'R Us before I come home.

I planned on getting their bribe before the first meeting but since I was late, I chose to go after the first meeting and before the second one.

Ducking out of the first meeting with the excuse of my second commitment, I hurried to the mall. This time knowing exactly what I wanted, I ran into the store, picked up the booty and proceeded to a checkout. Setting off an alarm at the electronics checkout, I felt like a sophisticated thief in my suit as a teenager with a nose ring peeked up over a shelf to inform me that I couldn't leave the section without paying for the game.
"No one was at the counter so I figured I could pay at the front counter."
"No. You need to pay for it here"

Settling my indebtedness, I was able to get to my next function without being late. For a brief moment tomorrow, I will be a hero, I think to myself...

Trading my fake job for my real job: Day 3

Ring-a-ling-a-ling..... Ring-a-ling-a-ling....

The damn dog wants to go outside and pee. Mother Hen attached a bell to the door to train the dog to slap it if she wanted to go outside. The alarm clock reads 5:42 am.

Are you serious? If I get up, I'm not going to fall back to sleep. If I stay in bed, the dog will probably piss on the floor. Faced with a dilemma, I command the dog to "Come". She happily trots up the stairs to greet her awoken master. Once in my bedroom, she is instructed to lay in her bed. If she makes a mess, it will be in her bed, not on my floor, I erroneously think to myself.

As I lay in bed, I am now fully awake. No sense in trying to sleep any further, I get up and let the dog outside so she can do her happy pirouette as she drops a number two on the front lawn.

I'm up so early that I have time to eat breakfast, feed the animals, shower, edit a video and finish a load of laundry that I started the night before. Mother Hen said she did all the laundry on Sunday. Yet Tuesday night, our boy announced that he was down to his last pair of pyjamas. In the clothes hamper, he had four pairs of pants, three sets of PJ's and somehow five pair of socks. Our daughter only had one set of dirty clothes, with no PJ's or dirty socks. Two different kids at opposite extremes. Not understanding the logic behind the quantity of dirty clothes, I shut my mouth and throw them into the washing machine.

At 6:45 am, the sound of an annoying beep is emitted from Darth Vader's chest. With both kids hearing the beeps, they hurry downstairs to eat. No fights over breakfast again. One kid doesn't like the lunch at the cafeteria, so I make egg salad sandwiches. Again, there's no useless banter about the "idontlikes". After breakfast, they rush upstairs, make their beds, brush their teeth and put on clean clothes.

Everything is prepared in advance. My presentation material is already in the car. All I need to do is get child one and child two in the backseat by 8:10. I'm looking at the clock and it only says 7:50. We're rocking. There's nothing holding us back, I think. The dog has gone outside for a second round of blatter relief. She's about to go into her kennel for the day. Both kids are ready to put their jackets and boots on. They don't like wearing mittens anymore, but I tell them that being this early, their hands are gonna get cold. Again, without any arguments, they agree that mittens is the right choice. But D'Angelo informs me that his mittens were left at school the day before.

As I reach for iced water for the commute to my 9 am presentation, I hear a scream. Our boy yelped. Coming back from the garage door, he has tears streaming down his face. His sister shut the door on his index finger. Without the medically approved lips only a mother has the prescription for, I resort to the second best option: ice. I look at his hand and decide the pain is no more than a bruise at best. Grabbing a handful of ice out of the freezer, I hold it against the knuckle of his index finger. Looking into his eyes, I ask if the pain is going away. As he sniffles away a tear, he says it's getting better. Time is ticking. We're now past 8:10. I'm gonna be late. Everything was going so well until the door disaster of 8:05. He then looks at me and asks me if we're still on time.

"Only if we leave right now", I console him.
"Then let's go, I want my walkie talkie".
"Will you wear the crappy mittens you don't like this morning?"
"Yes, but we have to go, I want my walkie talkie".

The bribe has worked perfectly. We all jump into the car and make the trek to the education factory for another day of learning.

With everyone on-time, I was able to show up to my presentation punctually. At lunchtime, once the presentation was completed, I had an appointment to bottle a fine batch of Pinot Noir. I've started making my own wine. Actually, the Brew Shoppe makes it for me. I drop in the yeast to comply with some stupid liquor law. Then after 5 weeks, I show up and put it into my bottles and take my new found bounty home to enjoy.

Today, I am on a tight schedule. The mini-me's are coming home at 2:20 from the education factory. With a 45 minute drive, I have to be out of the Brew Shoppe no later than 1:30. I'm told the bottling process takes 20 minutes, so I arrive at 12:45. Upon arrival, I'm informed the bottle washer is down, but the technician yells out that it will be ready in 3 minutes. Not wanting to waste any time, I pay for a new batch of Shiraz and drop the yeast in the bucket to keep the alcohol police happy. Coming back to the technician about 5 minutes later, he says the machine will be ready in 30 seconds. Laughing and nervous at the same time, I crack a joke that gets everyone laughing about how the technician's time is different from the rest of the world.

Getting the red elixir in the back of the car, I rush to the car to see the clock reading 1:35. With only 45 minutes to get home to greet my kids, I don't have enough time to pick up their bribe at Toys 'R Us. I feel so selfish. I chose my Pinot Noir ahead of two bribes made in China. The monsters are gonna be so disappointed. Rushing home, a thought passes through my head. "If I have an accident on the way home, who's gonna get the kids on the front step of the house? They could be outside for hours."

I make it home as the bus is pulling away. Another potential disaster averted. The kids ask where their bribe is. With my tail between my legs I apologize to them that I didn't have enough time to pick up their toys. I didn't have the guts to tell them I chose bottling wine over going to a Toys 'R Us. Waiting until they were sleeping, I snuck into the garage to get the present I bought for me- 30 dancing ladies dressed in Pinot Noir.

Trading my fake job for my real job: Day 2

I awoke to the sound of the TV pumping out some horrendous noise at 6 am. It was time to get up and work my breakfast magic for a second day in a row. I must have fallen asleep with the TV on last night.

The kids awoke at 7 am, after I had a chance to feed the dog, cat and myself. One kid wanted toast. Can't get any easier than that, I think to myself. The other one wasn't hungry. I've seen this movie before. Where the mom gets upset as the daughter continues to say she's not hungry. And the more the mom insists that the little girl can't go to school on an empty stomach, the more upset the girl becomes. It always ends the same way with two people angry at each other. Not wanting to be the protagonist or antagonist, depending on perspective, I make a conscious decision that the girl will go to school on an empty stomach today if it means avoiding a conflict.

The boy gladly eats his toast making sure not to ingest any of the dreadful crust. He asks if he can have a yogurt and a glass of water. Happy, he plops down and watches the sports highlights from the night before while slurping his vanilla yogurt.

Shit, I forgot. Duke was playing a team with a bunch of white guys when sleep creeped into my head last night. Wondering who won, and forgetting about the stubborn little girl at the breakfast counter, I raced to the nearest chair to get a glimpse of the championship game. Duke won! The only person I know who likes Duke is Joel. Joel was a university friend who liked a lot of the same stuff I did in my early adulthood: sports, alcohol, girls, and raising a lot of shit. Joel and I borrowed a Burger King garbage can one drunken evening. Ripped it right off the pole it was chained to. Some said it was stolen but I returned it three years later.  Joel is a university professor now at Eastern Kentucky I think. He must be so happy with his Duke Blue Devils this morning.....

"Can I have some cereal?", a quiet voice breaks my thoughts.
"Sure. Do you know what kind?"
"Frosted Flakes and Rice Krispies".
"Together?"
"Yeah, that's how mom makes them".
"Ok, sure, Frosted Flakes and Rice Krispies coming up".

The rest of the morning was uneventful. The kids went to the education factory to produce new thought synapses while I returned to my home office to work for the rest of the day.

At 3:20, the front door welcomed home two little factory workers. I had a conference call at 6 pm that was going to last 3 hours. With only two and half hours, supper had to be cooked, dishes washed, kids cleaned and changed, I didn't have a lot of time. Oh and then there was the homework. Our daughter is really good at doing her homework alone. But our son hates everything school related except physical education and recess. Homework is like ripping his eyes out. No, homework is like ripping my eyes out. It's that painful some nights. If this was gonna be one of those nights that I'd rather go blind for the rest of my life than live another moment of homework, there was no way I could get on the conference call on time.

Supper is another fight most nights. I have witnessed too many painful "idontlike" moments.
"I don't like mushrooms"
"I don't like tomatoes"
"I don't like onions"
"I don't like cheese"
You can pretty much insert any word after "I don't like" and it will have been relevant at some point in my house.

My parents would have said, don't eat it if you don't like it. But don't ask for anything else after supper. I've tried that angle with my kids before but our beloved Queen Hen has always food blocked me. With the Queen gone, I am in charge. If they pull this "idontlike" crap on me, I'm gonna use the same strategy my parents used. I'm willing to dig my feet in and fight to the death.

The death fight doesn't happen.  They eat everything on their plate. They thank me for the great meal and they put their dishes on the counter next to the sink. I'm either getting Punk'd or they are as afraid of me as I am of them. They rush upstairs and take their showers singing their favourite songs. They both happily do their homework and ask if I can set their alarm for 6:45 am for tomorrow. Being early to school tomorrow means they get their bribe I promised them yesterday.

They were angels. They were ready for bed at 5:55 pm, which let me get on the conference call at 6 pm. With everything done, I let them watch TV and play on the iPad. When the conference call started, I warned everyone that I may have to step away at a moments notice if the kids acted up. Halfway through the call, someone asked me what I did to my kids to make them behave so well. Proud as I am, I know that this feeling could be fleeting as quickly as it entered my brain. I'm really not sure what I did to make them behave so well. I know I didn't bribe them on this one, but maybe they aren't the terrorists I've come to love.

Kids went to bed a bit late because the conference call went until 9 pm. Despite that, they still wanted me to set their alarm clocks for 6:45 am, which I gladly did. I walked down the lonely hall to my royal bedroom, minus its Queen, to read for an hour.

As the last words read started to flutter around my head like a butterfly on a breezy June morning, I laid down the book to fall asleep. Day two is in the books, only 13 more days to go...

Trading my fake job for my real job: Day 1

My wife left me!

She'll only be gone for 15 days, but she left me in charge while she's gone.

For the next 15 posts, I will capture my daily thoughts as a digital record. To see if I slip into an increasing degree of madness and to observe the conflict of a fulltime businessman turned fulltime dad.

Our son was one month old when I stepped into the entrepreneurial limelight. While I focused on the business, Aline made sure everything on the homefront was safe. She took care of all things kid related. Today I'm in charge. I have to put work on the backburner, making sure I'm home at 3pm every day to welcome my babies from their daily grind at the education factory.

I've been planning her trip for weeks. There's some food in the freezer that perpetually gets pushed to the back after each trip to the grocery store. There's a home renovation project I'd like to finish to surprise my bride upon her return.

I'm gonna stay realistic. There is only thing I will attempt to do for the next 15 days. To get through it without my children completely hating me. Aline has always been the calm parent, while I've been the warden. She's June Cleaver, while I'm Archie Bunker, minus the racism.

Day 1:
We didn't get much sleep last night. I carried Aline's suitcase to her taxi at 4am, while she kissed the kids goodbye. My son awoke and started bawling. I could see the pain in Aline's eyes as she slipped out the front door, pretending not to hear his pain.

Going upstairs to console our baby, I offered him a spot in my bed, which he took gladly. As we lay our heads down to sleep, our oldest awoke crying. Turns out, she had a nightmare. Offering her a spot in my bed cramped us together like sardines in that Queen sized bed. But everyone quickly fell asleep except me.

Three hours later, I wiggled out of the vice my children had placed me in. Good dads make breakfast, I thought to myself.  I used to own a breakfast restaurant, so making pancakes for me is like making toast for less experienced fathers. Easy peesy, until my kids gave me the worst review a cook can ever receive. They didn't eat any. Now I have a batch of pancakes with no customers. There goes the good dad strategy.

Our next mission is to go shopping for toys. It didn't start out that way. Let me explain. I have a really important meeting on Wednesday. To get there on time means the kids have to get to school 15 minutes early. My kids are NEVER early. They don't know the definition of early. So I do what my inexperience tells me to do: I bribe them.

"If you can be ready 15 minutes early on Wednesday, I'll buy you a present".
"What kind of present? An Xbox 360?", asks the boy.
"No, a small present".
"Like a cellphone?"
"No, by small I mean inexpensive"
"You mean cheap!"
"No, I mean something that you wish you had, that doesn't cost a fortune."
"Like an Xbox 360. Ryan has one and it only costs 300 bucks."
"I want a pack of Shopkins", says our daughter.
"That's a great choice". At $12.99, I have my daughter cheaply bought off.
"So D'Angelo, what do you think?"
"There's a Montreal Canadiens sweater that I want..."

Having my kids focused on the prize, we start our voyage to the city. First stop is to get the sweater. The store where he saw it is going out of business, so we run in to buy the prize before another eager shopper grabs it. After searching for 20 minutes, overcome with grief, our son has to change the object of his affection for another prize. But what? Best way to fix this pain is bring them to the Mecca of kid stores: Toys 'R Us.

Our daughter runs to the girl section while our son rushes to the boy toys. Asking them to stay together so I can keep an eye on both of them, they tell me that their mom lets them go off on their own in this store. I get the feeling that they are playing me. My wife is a "mother hen". She would never leave them out of her sight in a public place like this.

After 20 minutes, our son emerges with a toy that costs $90. "Sorry, that's out of the budget. Go back and look for something in the $20 range." Our daughter becomes distraught as her beloved Shopkins have been sold out. She informs me there is another store in the mall that carries her favourite toy. Pulling the boy away from the dream of living in toyland, we venture to the other store to find they are also sold out.

Now I have two upset kids who I was trying to bribe but have yet to fulfill their end of an agreement on Wednesday. Empty handed, we walk back to the car with our shoulders hunched and our heads slightly cocked forward as we look at each step our feet make.

Thinking to myself, I have to change this attitude, I blurt out, "Who wants frozen yogurt?". Both kids looked up at me like I was a god. I think their feet may have left the ground slightly. They were once again pleased and I was the dad who brought them there.

Nothing cures the blues like frozen yogurt, candy and chocolate, even if it is only zero degrees celsius outside.

The rest of the day was a breeze. Kids ate their supper, without any problems. No real fighting today. I consider myself blessed. I'm not sure if they can keep up this good behaviour for 14 more days. Like a recovering addict, all I think to myself is "one day at a time".

After the kids went to sleep, I went downstairs to get some work done. I hadn't done any work all day so I was feeling a bit guilty. For a guy who likes to get to bed early, working until 11 pm is painful. I got the work done, and headed to bed. As I laid in my lonely bed, I turned the TV on to catch the last minutes of a hockey game. The final game of NCAA's March Madness was on. With everyone going on, I completely forgot about it. Second half had just started with perennial winners, Duke losing by 4 points to a Wisconsin team that had four white guys on the floor. In a sport where black guys dominated, it was odd to see so many white guys on the floor at the same time........................................................

5 biggest hiring mistakes made by managers

Ask almost anyone who's in business what is their biggest problem and the answer will undoubtedly be the same: Staff.

A reliable, honest, hard working employee will be a pleasure to work with. They are hard to find and are a true treasure when discovered. Workplace culture gets ruined for these treasures when a poor hire is made.

The five biggest hiring mistakes made by managers causes deep problems in the organization, including losing good employees, loss of productivity, eroding profit margins and destroying corporate culture. A good business starts with the right hire. Most agree that business is great when employees do what they are supposed to do, when they are supposed to do it, and how they are supposed to do it. .

Michael Gerber wrote in E-Myth Revisited that people don't fail, systems fail. The lack of defined systems creates an environment where employees cannot find success. I believe the hiring practices can be systemized just as easily to avoid the following mistakes.

First mistake
Most managers want a job done, so they describe the position in their advertising. They don't take the time to describe the person they want to hire. Describing competencies and experience is not describing the person.. What is the essence of the person you're looking for? In one advertisement, I described the new hire as a person who never used an alarm clock but always woke up before 7am. We were looking for someone who liked to sing in the shower and didn't care if the neighbors could hear them bellow the newest song by Justin Bieber because in the shower, it sounded like a live performance in front of 25,000 fans. I didn't get as many applicants but I didn't have to do 100 interviews either. The people that applied to the ad were the type of people I wanted to talk to.

Second mistake
Managers fail to plan for a new hire. I liked having someone in the "bullpen". In baseball, the bullpen is comprised of relief pitchers who can come in at a moment's notice if the current pitcher is starting to fail. My bullpen had people who wanted to work for me but were willing to wait for an opportunity. If a current employee would quit without notice, I had a replacement ready to go. Even if I didn't have a staffing need, we were constantly looking for new staff as a strategy to prevent dis-serving the customer.

Third mistake
The interview is not a well thought out systemized process. Most managers hire based on gut instinct. They will ask a series of questions regarding strengths, weaknesses, experience and background. Then based on those answers, they make a gut check and decide if the employee is right for the team. In more sophisticated hiring practices, hiring managers get the candidate to answer a series of tests to see competencies and if there is a fit emotionally with the team. Without the budget to put all the candidates through the testing, we identified the qualities we wanted in a perfect hire and then formulated questions to see if the candidate matched what we were looking for.

Question. "What kind of animal would you be in the jungle". Then followup with "Why".
Reason: To see someone think on their feet. To make a decision quickly without hesitation.

Question: "What kind of toy would you play with if you were a puppy"
Reason: Again, a second example of someone thinking on their feet. If they were stressed or nervous, or their body language became closed, I would end the interview.

Question: "Give me an example when you got upset at work"
Reason: To test facial expressions and body language. Does this person relive old stuff and has a hard time letting go of a past problem.

Question: "Has a manager ever asked you to do something that you thought was wrong" and "what did you do to correct the manager"
 Reason: To see if this person is a disrupter or a vault? Does this person have enough confidence to express their opinions or do they have too much confidence bordering on arrogance.

Fourth mistake
Managers don't follow up on references or they rely on the wrong ones. Most candidates will only post positive references on the resume. Calling one of those references, a manager should expect a decent review. In the interview, a smart hiring manager will try to connect the dots of people they know in common. LinkedIn is an excellent resource today for seeing the commonalities. Sometimes a current employee will have worked with the candidate. Getting an accurate picture of work ethic and job competencies can come from the people already working in the organization. The only relevant question in the reference check is "If that person came back looking for a job, would you hire them again?".

Fifth mistake
Managers don't plan for training. In every job I ever had, I was thrown in and expected to learn the jobs on my own. It was sink or swim. In many businesses, the same exists. Managers are already busy. They have enough on their plates so taking the time to train a new hire is painful. To avoid this mistake develop a training program that gets shared on the first day of the new hire. They will know exactly what will happen over the following weeks. Give homework every evening, with a verbal and written test the next day. The employees that don't study the first night are usually poor hires. The ones who want to work with you will memorize the small homework and will ALWAYS be great employees, based on my experience. If a poor candidate gets through the first four obstacle courses without detection, the fifth obstacle will catch them on the second day. Don't waste any time and training money on the new hires who don't do their homework. Give the candidate one final chance to prove their worth the following day. If they are not serious about the job you've offered them, they will quit and you will be better for it immediately.

Too many hiring managers rely on "warm body" syndrome. There is a need in the business so we hire the first person who looks and acts reasonably well so life can get back to normal. It's usually better not to hire at all than to hire a warm body. In a shrinking labour market, it can be difficult to find the right person. No one's beating down your door to work for you. I get it. But a business is built one employee at a time. Find the right employee and then go find more of them one at a time.

The battle between the irrational self versus the rational self

Did you know that most people make decisions based on emotion. Then they logical reverse rationalize why the purchase was necessary.

I've been criticized over the years for being too emotional. Emotions get me in trouble. But they also drive my passion. Emotions, whether negative or positive are irrational. On the negative side, a feeling wells up from the pit of my stomach, the heart skips a beat, my ears go deaf and I can no longer think from a logical perspective. I act like a five year old, with the only relief being to act out a temper tantrum. Seems ridiculous when I look back on each incident.

Emotion can be extremely positive when focused on creativity. People get attracted to my energy, my enthusiasm and my passion. It becomes magnetic. The thoughts attract other inputs, other energies and other ideas. I get excited and afraid at the same time. Excitement drives me to push the ideas forward. Fear drives me to push them faster.

People who are predominantly using their right brains are the creative people of the world. They use the irrational and emotional constructs to perform their art. Those of us who predominantly use the left brains are the logical people. They are the mathematicians, the scientists and the analysts.

I play both sides of the fence. I love numbers. My favourite subjects in school were mathematics and science. My first job was in finance. My second job was in marketing, a highly creative field.

Marketers and financial people don't get along so well. Bean counters tend to squash the creative ideas in favour of budget. That is the battle that goes on in my head everyday.

My biggest strength is also my biggest weakness.

In a previous business, I had what seemed to be an unresolvable conflict with a colleague. Every time I had to talk to the colleague, I wanted the conversation to end before it began. I became dead inside, lacking all emotion until he left. My ideas were discounted. My passion was squashed. I was told there was no room for creativity in my job. The result caused a emotional tumour inside of me. Each conversation grew the tumour. Until one day, the tumour couldn't take anymore and burst. I exploded. I lost it. Between the build up frustrations, the inability to express myself and perceived injustices, I had become an emotional cancer.

I was driving yesterday, thinking about past mistakes and how they affect the life I live today.

I took a test once to measure my emotional IQ and I failed.

Just kidding. I found out that I'm average. I'm not a stone faced, matter of fact, nothing phases me brick wall. I'm more of the guy that wears his emotion on his sleeve.

It's not a good thing or a bad thing. It's just something I have to understand so I can live with myself...

Objects in mirror may be closer than they appear

Anyone who has driven a North American car newer than 1985, meaning unless you live in the hills without running water and copper wires in the wall, knows that the passenger side mirror of an automobile has a little disclaimer about objects being closer than they appear.

Did you ever wonder why the car manufacturers do that? Is the right side mirror less important than the driver's side? What research was done that rationalizes objects to be smaller and further away? Doesn't it make sense to see objects in the rear view mirror at the right distance our eyes are used to seeing them.

Here's the answer. A convex mirror, which is a fancy way for saying curved outwardly, gives a larger field of view to eliminate blind spots on the passenger side. The planar mirror, a flat mirror, doesn't get the advantage of the passenger side.

I remember driving to Montreal in 1996 in a Honda Civic 2 door Coupe. On approach to the big city, the traffic got heavy and stressful for this young hic. I could've used those convex mirrors on the driver's side as I pulled directly onto no less than four different cars trying to pass me on the AutoRoute.  Horns a blazing, I felt lucky having escaped disaster, but at the same time, I learned of the driver side blindspot that no one taught me in driver's education.

The mirror thought popped into my brain this morning while having breakfast at a truck stop.

There was a promotional piece on the table showing a picture of a new menu item. The plate looked appetizing but I was shocked at the wimp-ical, ball-less, stand for nothing attitude of the words directly beneath the picture

"Actual plate may look different from the picture."

Are you kidding me? Putting a picture of a product on a menu is a promise. The owner is promising to the client that the ordered product will look almost exactly like the picture. If the product comes out and it looks less appetizing than the picture, does anyone believe that a stupid, legal disclaimer is enough to discredit a customer's expectation?

The simple answer is make your plates look exactly like the picture. No choices, no options.

This well known truck stop has systems to deliver consistent product. If the employees can't make the product look like the picture, may be it's time to remove pictures from the communications.

Not wanting to be oversold and underdelivered, I ordered something different. There was also a picture of it on the menu. And as expected, the product delivered was not representative of that picture either.

The strategy of placing pictures in any business marketing material is to promote the actual products and services offered for sale. Pictures are not just for restaurant menus. If you can't deliver exactly what the pictures say, don't put pictures on your marketing material.

A marketing piece without pretty pics can be boring. But a marketing piece with lies says your dishonest.

What your preference: To be seen as boring or to be seen as a liar?