Alan Fox

Happy Mothers’ Day to the best mother ever.  Mine.

I know that Mothers’ Day is celebrated on a Sunday in May, but since I’ve reached a certain age I give myself permission to celebrate whatever I want to and whenever I like.  I don’t need to please either my parents or an employer since Mom and Dad are no longer here, and I work for myself.

My mother was born on March 15, 1912, in a suburb of New York City. Her father was a photographer, although he seemed to prefer fishing to taking portraits.  At the age of eight my mom often filled in for him when he was away from his studio.  In his absence, she took the portrait photos herself, then later scheduled a “reshoot” with her father.

She was also many years ahead of her time. In the 1930’s, when relatively few women even attended college, she earned a master’s degree from Hunter College.  She also played the trumpet professionally in vaudeville shows with an all-woman band. I still have her silver trumpet that I treasure to this day.

Mom was determined to marry a man who, unlike her father, was strong and decisive.  In that regard she chose exceedingly well. My dad, especially in his younger years, was – and I put this politely – firm in his views.  Especially about how to raise children.  But I’ll leave that for another blog.

When I was a child, I spent each day after school in the kitchen with my mom.  I loved chatting with her as she cooked dinner and I prepared a snack for myself. Sometimes I’d help her, but often we’d just talk – from 3:30 pm until dinner was served — promptly at 5:30.  I hold happy memories of the times my mom and I shared.  I suppose that’s one reason, among many, that I love food. In fact, I like food so much that Daveen tells me she’s encouraged to eat more herself just because I enjoy my meal so much.  I say, “Why not?” – I might as well be enthusiastic about something I do every day.

So today I’m remembering you, Mom, and your support and nurturing as well as our many outings to the Los Angeles Zoo.  Now that my daughter and 2-year-old granddaughter are living with us I can better appreciate the constant hard work and responsibility of parenting.

To my readers — if you would like to celebrate someone or something special today, for any reason, be my guest.  Today is a great day to rejoice in an event of your own making.

Alan

I know a few people who seem to think that they are seldom, if ever, responsible for anything bad that happens to them.  You probably know a few people like that as well.

These folks always believe they are a victim and see themselves as entirely blameless. If they lose a job — it’s the fault of the boss. If they miss a shot in basketball they blame a teammate’s bad pass. When they are involved in an auto accident they promptly point their finger at the other driver.

The problem with someone who believes they are a victim is that they can never make any change needed to improve their lives. And so, they doom themselves to a life of repeated loss.

When I was in law school, one of my professors said to our class, “I don’t want to knock the rich. I want to be one of them!”

That was more than fifty years ago but I have seen the wisdom in his words. Those who want to spend their time knocking others miss many opportunities they might instead create for themselves.

More than ten years ago, when I began writing this blog, I sent an email to everyone I knew, inviting them to subscribe. Most did. A few didn’t. But two formerly close friends replied with hostility.

Why?

I don’t know, but they certainly burned a bridge. Any future opportunities that might have resulted from our friendship disappeared.  I still occasionally wonder why they had become so bitter. And I can’t imagine what they thought they would gain from blaming me for their unhappiness, without even discussing it with me.

Why not try to stay on good terms with others, rather than blaming them?  Last Saturday afternoon Daveen and I enjoyed lunch with another couple we’ve known ever since I was an undergraduate at USC more than sixty years ago. Long-standing relationships like this are a treasure, but they can’t happen when one party sees themselves as the victim.

Can we each improve our lives?  Of course.  But first we need to hold ourselves accountable for our own actions. Only when we recognize our own responsibility can we learn from our missteps. Simply put, we maximize our chances of success when we take responsibility for our own lives.

Besides that, being a victim really isn’t much fun.

Alan

Today I’m celebrating – well actually, more just noticing – my birthday.

I’ve asked those who might give me a gift to please refrain. Daveen is Spring cleaning and giving our possessions away, and I think I already have everything I need.  That’s a definite change from my tenth birthday when I wanted toys and instead received a scratchy wool sweater from my parents. I wore it exactly once.

Years ago, when my children were growing up, I decided to say “yes” to any of their requests, unless I had a good reason not to.  As many of you know, over the years “yes” has permeated both my personal and business life.

Years ago I read a story in the Wall Street Journal about bureaucracy in government. While I don’t remember the full details, I recall that a married couple in India met with a government representative at the airport to get the necessary documentation to travel abroad.  Realizing this might take time, they arrived four hours early.  Three and one-half hours later they told the representative that what they needed required his immediate attention because their plane was about to depart.  His response?

“Whatever you want, that’s what I won’t give you.”

That has not been my experience. I find government employees in the US are almost always helpful, and sometimes offer excellent suggestions.  Of course, a few don’t.  But all of us prefer, and sometimes need, a “yes.”

Even if we don’t think about it consciously, we all have a bias – “yes,” “no,” or “I need more information” are typical responses. I know there are people who always start with a no, then might backtrack to yes. I find it more constructive, and more fun, to start with yes.

As my birthday gift to the world, I suggest that we all invoke the tremendous power of “yes” in our lives.  Everyone you know will be happier, and you will feel great about the “yesses” you give to them.  You will feel even better when you say “yes” more often to yourself.

Don’t you think that’s a wonderful idea?

(Fill in your answer here ___.  A hint.  It’s one word with three letters.  Second hint.  The word starts with a “Y”.)

Happy Alan’s birthday to all.

Alan