The famous Coca Cola Sign at the entrance to the infamous Kings Cross

Welcome to the Home of Thieves, Pimps and Pros

I will never forget my first day at Kings Cross as a juniour section manager (for those who don’t know Sydney, KX, as it was generally written, is the heart of the Red Light district). When the Americans made Sydney an R & R (Rest and Recreation) centre for their troops in Vietnam, Kings Cross went into melt down. Woollies was where you came to recover.

Call Girls One Day and Sales Girls the Next

I mean it, many of the girls who worked the streets of KX got jobs at our shop when they were worn out and needed a rest. The fact that they seemed to recuperate so well there meant that we always needed new staff but we never had a shortage of applicants. In fact it was regarded as the best R & R  / job for girls on the job. You could keep in touch with your mates (and clients), take it easy and still make enough to pay the rent.

An hour after I started there, I was engrossed (absorbed, gripped, engaged and much more) while listening to a conversation between one such girl who was behind the counter and a male customer. He seemed to be in urgent need of something he called a “quickie” but she kept telling him she was on holiday and to go elsewhere. I thought she was working for us but as I didn’t understand anything they were saying I decided it must be code for something that they didn’t want me to know.

My First Brush with a Shop Lifter

Unfortunately, for me, while I was watching them, a customer standing not 3 feet away from me was literally hoovering up the counter and sticking the stuff into a gigantic pocket in his coat. RK was watching all of us. As soon as the customer left the store RK ran after him and made an arrest. As they passed by me on the way to the office I coped a clip to the back of the head and when I asked the girl why she suggested I work with my eyes open and keep my nose to myself.

RK’s office overlooked the shop floor and had one way glass installed so he could watch us but we could not tell if he was there or not. I later came to believe that he didn’t need the one way glass, he had a sixth sense for thieves. He would be giving you a bollicking in his office (He never talked to new section managers) and suddenly he would stop and say, someone’s stealing and off he would go. Mind you before he was posted there, you could say that at anytime the shop was open and you would have been right 90% of the time.

After six months at the Cross I learned how to manage women and smell a shop lifter almost before he entered the shop. I even started to like it there so I took a 12 month lease on a flat nearby in Elizabeth Bay. I moved into the flat on Saturday and on Monday morning I received my transfer to Liverpool which was a good 8o minutes drive away in the boondocks of Sydney’s outer western suburbs.

No One Welcomes You to Liverpool

Liverpool Woolworths was having huge problems with shop lifting or more particularly, the poor old distressed manager was.

I was sent up as RK’s star graduate to help him stamp it out.

I walked in and the manager promptly had a nervous breakdown. I‘m really not that hard to get on with, honestly. I think it was watching a gang of teenagers descend on the ladies hosiery counter and literally lift everything off it then walk out of the shop, right past him, while he pissed his pants, that did it).

So I got my big break. Head office asked me to look after the shop until they could find an experienced manager. The bit they didn’t tell me was “..and who would be stupid enough to go there”

When I got to know Liverpool it was everything I imagined the original penal colony was like. Rough, tough, uncared for, far from the city and a labour seat in a state where the liberals held power with a vice.

A couple of days later, just as we were closing I got a phone call from St Vincent’s hospital to say my sister had been admitted with a burst appendix. That’s Very serious stuff and they said I should come immediately. Can you imagine, that was the second manager in just under a week to piss on the shop floor. No wonder we had such a difficult job hiring a good cleaner.

How I Cured the Hitch Hiker

Any way, I was in a hurry to get out and rushed to my car. In those days we didn’t have radar so I set off at a cracking pace. Then for some reason, and I never did this ordinarily, I saw a chap stick up his thumb to hitch a lift and I stopped and picked him up.

He was grateful at first, but I was a man in a hurry and soon he turned to me and said “I said Sydney not Heaven” and he demanded I let him out. I think I cured him of hitch hiking, stupid thing to do anyway.

My Brush with Instant Death

Well my sister pulled through and the next day I went to work and as I put my hand on the door to use my key, the door slid open. At first I thought we had had burglars but I soon realised that in my haste to leave the night before, I had forgotten to lock the front door. If some one had touched it or if there was a strong puff of wind the door would have opened and Woolies would have had their biggest ever sale. The stock would literally have walked out of the shop.

The big front door to paradise that I left unlocked all night.

I shook all day but I think it was because every time I thought about it I got a bout of the giggles. That was my first near death experience. If my regional manager had found out, you would be praying to me not writing to me.

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A doctor was addressing a large audience in Oxford. He said, “The material we put into our stomachs should have killed most of us sitting here, years ago. Red meat is full of steroids and dye. Soft drinks corrode your stomach lining. Chinese food is loaded with MSG. High trans fat diets can be disastrous and none of you realise the long-term harm caused by the fluoride and germs in our drinking water.

But, there is one thing that is the most dangerous of all and most of us have, or will eat it. Can anyone tell me what food it is that causes the most grief and suffering for years after eating it?”

After several seconds of quiet, a 70 year old man in the front row raised his hand, and softly said, “Wedding Cake.”

Thanks Tom

Bye the way Tom makes great healthy food bars – you can see them here: www.healthelicious.com.au

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We look before and after,

And pine for what is not:

Our sincerest laughter

With some pain is fraught;

Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought

Shelly (1792 – 1822)

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Your never too old – to have a broken heart.

Life as the product of life.

However far man may extend himself with his knowledge,

however objective he may appear to himself -

ultimately he reaps nothing but his own biography.

Friedrich Nietzsche (1844 – 1900)

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But that is just me. Some of the kids I went to school with positively lived for it.

Watching the movie the Karate Kid recently reminded me of the time my mum decided to put a stop to one bout of bullying I was going through at school.

The Day the Bully Followed Me Home

This particular bully lived near our house and used to catch the same bus home from school as me. Somehow I came to his attention (my mouth was always bigger than my biceps) and from that day on, he made coming home a nightmare.

I tried everything, including catching a bus going in the opposite direction and once when he was getting especially frisky, I jumped off the bus as it went around a corner to escape his pugilistic attentions. But almost every day I came home with a new bruise or a black eye and my mum was getting fed up with it.

One morning she told me it was over, that I was to give him a hiding he would not forget so he would leave me alone.

It sounded like a plan when she said it, but the closer I got to school and the further I was from home the less plausible it sounded. Why was today any different? How was I any different to the boy who took the beating every day rather than being the one who gave it?

We were in different classes so I managed to avoid him throughout the day but when it came time to go home, my stomach was in my mouth, as usual. I got to the bus stop to find him there already and he gave me that evil smile that was full of promise. And I knew he intended to keep it.

The bus was full so he couldn’t get near me until we got off so I kept close to the exit and was the first off when we reached my bus stop. By a combination of running and mingling in crowds I got closer and closer to home without coping the hated beating.

I got pretty close; I could see my mum in the kitchen window. If I thought I was home safe, the bully had other ideas, he knew it was now or never so he grabbed me, swirled me around and smacked me in the mouth. He knew my mum could see us but my embarrassment just gave him extra pleasure and made him even more determined to give me a good beating.

Fight! Fight! Fight! They Cried

Isn’t it amazing how fast it goes from no one around to a circle of blood thirsty hunters with ugly screwed up masks for faces screaming fight! fight! fight!

I wasn’t in the least bit keen; I just wanted to get the bashing over with but with my mum watching I couldn’t just surrender.

I was angry, I was embarrassed, I hated the thought that my mum was going to see me get well and truly done over. I hated the kids in the circle for hemming me in and, of course, most of all I hated the bully.

I felt my self start to cry and the shame made me scream a roar of frustration. I saw him look scared for a second and I instantly decided it was now or never.

Again we collided like two fighter planes spewing death. There was little defense, it was all offence and the blows thudded home to nose and cheek and bone.

I attacked.

It was like two trains colliding. We ran at each other kicking and punching, gauging and scratching with no rules or etiquette. The crowd went quite at the sight of our ferocious conflict but we fought on until we could not move an inch.

There was no winner; we were both beaten and sore. I looked at him but he was not keen to continue and neither was I so I turned and walked the few yards to my house hoping my mum saw my best fight ever.

It’s Not Over till……

She met me just inside the door, took my school bag and then taught me a lesson I have never forgotten.

She said “You have not won”. Then she told me to go back and fight him again.

When I got back to the crowd, he was being feted by the boys. I knew then that she was right. I challenged him to fight. The crowd gasped. Wasn’t the first one bad enough? Did I have a death wish or something they wondered?

I could see him deflate for a second but he was a fighter and quickly came back. He was not going to give me the same chance he gave me the first time.

Again we collided like two fighter planes spewing death. There was little defense, it was all offence and the blows thudded home to nose and cheek and bone. I don’t know how long it lasted but we were both on the ground with the crowd shocked into silence.

I rolled on to my knees and shakily rose to stand. He got up too.

I staggered through the crowd towards my house and raised my eyes to look at the door. She was there, her eyes steely in their stare and her arms crossed. Her body said it all; I had not won.

My entrance was barred; I knew what I had to do.

I felt the tears well in my eyes, I felt the anger surge through my body as I turned and screamed a great roar of hate and anger and frustration and death. I charged at the crowd and to my surprise they burst and scattered in all directions and ran from me screaming and then in an instant of fear, he turned and ran after them.

When the anger left me, I was so tired I could not move. But I felt her behind me and then her arms engulfed me and as I broke down and cried, shaking from exhaustion, I could hear her say, “There, there, it’s all over now. You will never have to fight him again”

And boy, was I glad.

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Why I Hate Seth Godin - He is so damn prolific!

Do you know why I hate Seth Godin?

Because I have bought all his books – and read them, I follow his blog, I read his articles, watch his videos, download his PowerPoint Presentations and eBooks and just when I think he couldn’t possibly have anything more to say (that would be worth listening to) he comes up with more.

When will Seth Godin run out of ideas?

He is so damn prolific! I struggle to write a few articles each week and never make it round to all my blogs let alone get my newsletter out while he just seems to pump out quality articles, newsletters, eBooks and blog posts one after the other and never misses a beat.

Oh, you noticed? I’m jealous.

Well surely that just proves I’m human. He does what I want to do, and does it so effortlessly and well; what do you want me to do, throw my knickers at him? (okay, under pants but that didn’t quite work).

Then today I read his blog post Hope and the magic lottery and I realised that his life wasn’t always so easy. He once also knew the sense of frustration felt by artists and business people alike, when they feel that things are not happening fast enough. And that secret fear, that it may never happen. That feeling is the business equivalent of wading up hill in a fast moving stream against the current.

He knows that feeling and he has not forgotten.

Success - Is it what you really want?

It’s funny; when someone becomes successful they are often called an overnight success because “yesterday we had never heard of them; today they are famous”. But I have met many such people and they all say “It took me ten years (or in some cases, 20 years) to become the overnight success” they say I am.

Sure some people, a very small, and lucky, minority might strike success immediately or within a short period of starting. But while they may get a lot of publicity, they are the “lottery winners” that Seth mentions.

The trouble is that many people think that should be them. so they spend their life chasing that lottery win instead of working on becoming successful one step at a time. Mau Zedong famously said “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step” However, Seth covers that issue in his blog, I want to make another point.

Who is Really the One Impatient for Success?

In my experience, it is not always the artist or the budding business entrepreneur that is the impatient one. Quite often they are far too busy enjoying the journey to be impatient. More often, it is the family of that person and their friends who are the impatient ones and take morbid satisfaction out of pointing out how long it is taking to achieve “success”.

Of course they are often blind to the little successes along the way that like milestones, indicate the distance covered.

Sure, they are frustrated; they want the benefits that the aspirant promised would flow when they are a success. Maybe they missed out on spending time with the person while they worked on their project, maybe they feel that the person could have earned more money as an employee or may be they just fear being embarrassed if they fail.

Often, these hecklers on the sidelines do not have what it takes to do it themselves, either in talent or strength of character which would enable them to make such sacrifices at the alter of Ganesh*1. As a result they often harbour a secret jealousy against the hard working, dedicated and dare I say it, contented (possibly even happy) budding entrepreneur (or student, or artist etc).

The saddest part is that these “friends and family” often work hard actively encouraging their loved ones failure, doing everything in their power to make it happen. They withdraw their moral support, they promote every little failure and ignore any successes along the road, they sneer and put the person down in public and denigrate them in private. They sap their energy and their confidence. And if the one with the dream should fail, they show them no respect for trying but rather say things like “It was impossible”, “you were not up to the task” “you were talked into it”, “it was a silly dream”

And the worst one “Don’t ever try and do it again”

Over the years, I have seen many young adults leave home because they got no support from their parents for their ambition to be different. I have also seen marriages break up because one partner had a dream to achieve something and the other just wanted the rewards. Maybe they shared the dream in the beginning, but success is a long distance race not a sprint. Even instant success is often only a stepping stone to somewhere else. So somewhere along the line, the non participating partner, friend, parent or child drops out of the dream and to justify their failure, they actively pursue yours.

Can Your Family Survive Your Success?

Can you succeed in an environment that is hostile to success without splitting up? My honest opinion, it is difficult.

if your success is your partner’s failure, there is no team goal. In fact they can be as committed to your failure as you are to your success. Why? Because if you do succeed, they fear you will go on to a place where they cannot follow.

They fear losing you to the very success that you promised would bring the family such great honour and rewards. As surely as every success or failure along the way develops your character and changes you as a person, so the ones not experiencing these challenges, successes and blips, are in danger of receding further away from you intellectually.

Keeping the passion alive while you are passionately chasing your dreams

Your challenge should you accept it, is to ensure that you take them along with you on the trip. Don’t say goodbye at the beginning of it as you “go it alone” and expect them to be ecstatic about your success when you return (metaphorically speaking) 10, 15 or 20 years later.

Climbing to the top of the heap is not the real challenge, that’s the fun part; taking your loved ones along, that’s the bit that’s not easy.

[1] Lord Ganesh is the Hindu God of Success and overcoming obstacles

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Business to Business Tug of war over Payments

I heard a programme about business to business payments on ABC Radio 702 this morning. In short, they’re too slow at the moment and that poses a real threat to economic recovery.

Deborah Cameron interviewed Damien Karmelich from Dun and Bradstreet who apparently keep a file on how quickly companies pay their bills. (to see the blog go to http://bit.ly/bVeP6p, unfortunately you won’t be able to hear this excellent segment as this is one of the few shows that the ABC don’t produce a podcast for).

This is not recent news, small business has been suffering since at least May 2009 and who are the worst culprits? I’m sure you will not be surprised to hear it is big business and government departments. Closely followed by small business who can’t pay their bills due to the above.

During the call in segment, small business people and in some cases their spouse or family member rang in with horror stories of how small firms such as plumbers were owed hundreds of thousands of dollars for work done. I know they are not exaggerating, I have a number of small business clients, one is owed over $600,000, much of it from councils and the bulk of the rest is owed by property developers.

Of course the consequence is that these businesses pay their creditors late and in many cases there is nothing either party can do. Even if the creditor was inclined to sue, you can’t get blood out of a stone and bankrupting a company is not only expensive it almost guarantees you will never get paid or if you do, you get your money in such small dribs and drabs it is useless.

Damien also pointed out that many of the businesses that go broke each year do so not because they can’t get work but because they can’t get paid.

My client points out that many businesses are in a bind. If you have a council as a regular client or a large property developer you can’t afford to stop working for them because they will easily find another company that will but when times return to normal, you probably won’t get any more work from them.

In the mean time you need to chase residential jobs just to pay the bills. But this is a different kind of work and a company that manages to break into the world of big business is not necessarily still able or capable of doing this type of work at a competitive rate. They have invested heavily in big equipment and while you don’t need it to clear a blocked toilet, you still have to pay the lease. The big businesses and sadly, the councils, know this and use it to their advantage.

While to the CFO of these organisations this is just a case of  “managing their cash flow” the toll it takes on small business and frankly, on the staff, the families and the small business owner, is disastrous.

Has anyone calculated the cost to the country of supporting employees who lose their job because a big organisation wants to keep their cash in their bank? What about the cost in human suffering and loss of capital due to the break up of families often directly attributable to the stress that cash flow problems cause the small business. Or of the loss of experienced small business entrepreneurs who between them employ over 49% of all private sector employment (http://www.abs.gov.au/AUSSTATS/abs@.nsf/Lookup/1321.0Main+Features12001?OpenDocument .

If anyone tells you that Australia has escaped the worst of the GFC (global financial crisis) just tell them to go to any suburb and speak to the small business owners. When you hear a financial analyst tell you that Australia’s fortunes are tied to China, ask them how many small businesses sell products or services to China?

When a politician wants to know how the economy is doing tell them to forego their boardroom lunch at BHP or Rio Tinto and forget the banks (they forgot you years ago) and go to their local plumber, electrician or retail shop and talk to them.

If they did I think we would hear a lot less about how well Australia has fared since the beginning of the GFC.

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One of my friends recently complained that he had to take his kids to “The Show”. That’s the Royal Easter Show which has been an institution in Sydney since 1823 and is still the biggest show in Australia. I couldn’t help smiling as I remember when I had to find entertainment every school holiday for mine.

But then I got to thinking that once people were hanging out to go to the show. It was the most important event in the calendar, so what happened?

A number of things have changed our thinking about it. First, there is no doubt, it has lost its purpose. That’s the real killer. Once an event loses its reason for existing and becomes a purely commercial affair, it stands or falls by what other alternatives are available and whether or not, compared to them, it is good value for money.

It was the later that my friend was questioning. Going to the Easter Show can be quite an expensive day and if you don’t think it is value for money or you don’t enjoy it as much as you used to, you won’t rush back. And maybe that’s why the organizers have to work so hard every year to keep the numbers up.

I wrote an article about this for ESTV and I suggested that it would be a shame to see the show die out and to avoid this happening we should rethink what its purpose could be in the 21st century. Unfortunately organisations tend to leave it until the event is on its last legs before they wake up to the fact that there is a problem. I’m hoping this one man campaign will ring some bells.

In the early days the Easter Show was the one time each year when the city folk got to meet their country cousins. Here the country folk showed off the crops they were growing and the animals they were breeding and they in turn got to see what new technology was available – as well as have some fun and possibly find a spouse for the young ‘uns. It was the networking event of the year.

Why would you go to the show today if it wasn’t to keep the kids happy for a couple of hours? Even “The Show” must find its unique selling proposition and prove it is worth the effort and the money.

I have one idea I think is worth pursuing, I think it could be a mini expo – a time to show off what Australian business is up to? Manufacturers could show off their latest products and hair dressers for example could promote their skills with shows and low cost hair does for the visitors (I think I have seen that happen before). Of course it would keep the entertainment precinct but it has to find a way to attract more than just young families. If it became an expo it would attract not only local business people and hordes of interested visitors but also overseas tourists. It could be a tourist bonanza for NSW.

I think the Easter Show could have a resurgence in popularity and play an important role in getting NSW back on its feet, if we only took the time to think about it. What do you think?

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I found Philoagora on the Internet by accident about twelve months ago. I was searching for some information and was directed to their web site by Google. At first I was sure it must be in England or America as I had never heard of any philosophy groups in Sydney. When I saw they met in a cafe in Glebe Point Rd my first thought was, “Boy they have a Glebe Point Rd over there too”. I know, I can be a bit obtuse at times.

But it was (and still is) a Sydney group and I later discovered they are but one of a thriving group of such clubs in Sydney. After years of reading philosophy on my own, in private (almost but not quite “under the blankets”) I can’t tell you how happy I was to discover that there are hundreds of amateur philosophers like me in Sydney. In fact I can heartily recommend if you want a great night out that is stimulating as well as fun, try visitiing one of these philosophy groups.  I’ll be giving a talk at Philoagora in July on Nietzsche but don’t wait until then, they meet fortnightly at the Fair Trade Cafe, 33 Glebe Point Road.

The next meeting is on March 16th 2010, and the topic is Reinvention: A Philosophy for a Second Life.

March 30, Lou Salome (Who was proposed to by Nietzsche) and Rilke (Rainer Maria Rilke) 

April 13th, Toward a Social Ethos

April 27,  A debate: Atheism will never win the battle with Religion

You can see the notes and the schedule of meetings at www.philoagora.com

I’ll put together a list of other philosophy groups later and post it here.

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When my kids were really young we used to play monsters which involved the four of them spending an hour or two attacking me from all directions after which I had just enough energy left to watch TV with them.

Every time we watched an old movie they would turn to me and ask, “Was it really like that Dad?” One day we were watching Camelot and they turned to me, but before they could open their mouth, I said “Exactly how old do you think I am?”

That’s how I got the nickname Dinosaur.

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