Author: gshorkeyblt2

Since I was completing a somewhat ill Saturday by watching 125 of South Carolina’s best and brightest 15-16 year olds perform skits and individual acts for a Hugh O’Brian Youth (HOBY) seminar talent show, you can say Aaron Hernandez and I were on different paths since the night of June 22. We weren’t on anything like the same wave of Life *before* then mind you, but having refilled my tank of Positives while attending that seminar, I nailed finishing my book and expanded my social life considerably, and Mr. Hernandez, well, New England offered to exchange his Patriot jersey for whatever other number a fan might want. Future/final verdicts about ‘the facts of the matter’ about possible murder, that’s a situation several degrees more serious than even what those Ambassadors I worked with all weekend were focusing on–BULLYING was this years primary topic.

I still get a strained voice after long sales days talking from the nasty sore throat (thanks Z-pack!) I dealt with that whole weekend. I utilized several of my team members to read portions of a presentation regarding the characters (family, friends) and style of the Aesop Fables-type writing project they would be asked to help produce material for. At that point I suggested several get back to me quickly about artistic support, but nothing about getting jammies together or taking someone on a final ride would ever be part of the discussion. Actually, I would like to hear what those really smart-cool-OUTSTANDING! (a continuous verbal positive they express) young people might have to say in light of bullying theme, the death of an individual and immediate, total implosion of what everyone would probably accept as, well, any lifestyle we imagine a $40 million contract could maintain.

The seminar was at Erskine College in Due West, SC, and as small as Erskine is, Aaron Hernandez is going to spend an awful lot of negative, useless time in an even smaller place for the foreseeable future. While I haven’t received the necessary information from SCHOBY directors to make progress on getting books produced, I’m maybe a day or two from pulling the trigger (hey!) on self-publishing my own 77,600 word-290 page book. Believe it, getting everything 100% settled and the anticipation of having that ultimate product in my hands is pretty sweet stuff. Harder to believe is the ACLU going to bat for AH about his being kept in solitary–a situation brought to the fore because his personal tattooing apparently would’ve made him a target in the general population.

Nope, just throwing in plans for a baseball game on Thursday or vacationing/hitting the racetrack/golf in Saratoga’s enlivening blue sky environment in August, I’ve got plenty more positives to look forward to than Aaron. lol Strange segue to brother David’s sending multiple pictures of (what I eventually told him were our Dad’s) brown-weave loafers from Paris, there with Donna for terrific 25th celebration: Even my Dad’s old shoes are going to have a better time than Hernandez. Unkind but true.

Glenn S.

Have to admit waking up on sligtly less positive note this morning. It’s Day 3 of setting cell alarm for 7 am, and training habits take 30 days. It’s clearly a habit that needs relearning should a getting-a-little-momentum economy present better job possibilities, so I’ll get used to it. Shooting hoops in warm sunshine, thats an old school technique for relaxing body and brain.

Normally I’d be keeping one eye on ESPN for results, snippets of info about individual players or any lingering facts about these teams as they push to the Final Four, but its a crap shoot at this point if I get a piece of my ‘investments’ back in picking prowess (thanks New Mexico and St. Louis). I’ve knocked out a quantity of ‘fable’ material for a childrens book project with SC HOBY this week, but having something concrete to stake personal triumph on is lacking–picking a ton of winners in first rounds gets at least part of that back.

I *do* believe this country is about to throw off certain restraints and negatives though, so maybe I’ll try that ‘fake it till ya make it’ stuff. I considered this while shooting hoops in Tampa last week, when a real focus came through about it being 30 years since I left Tampa. My folks retired to Florida in 1988 when Dad, 83 when died at the end of January, was 59. THAT is kind of the crux of things for many Americans, because this is going to be a time for a sea change of major proportions.

We need to determine a new way to ‘Better’ because what we’ve been doing isn’t feeling right. Saying “what WE’VE been doing” might be inaccurate, but I’ve been hunkered down in retail and wondering what combination of push and some kind of break might move my cause back onto a more remunerative path. If Mom is a little confused about what comes next without Dad, she has a paid for home and money in the bank. Its not going to be easy, but thats what ‘us guys’ have been taking turns with visiting her, trying to keep things moving in right direction.

Believe it or not, thats where shooting comes in.

At the local court, I started using ‘the other basket’, and instead of chipping paint on my free throws I was making them easy–17 in a row, a streak I haven’t seen in a decade, and on my (un)patented turn-to-the-baseline-from-14′-out I could *feel* the gazeeet! stop action split second where you understand where the basket is and, allowing for physical drift and annnny other factor in the world, exactly how quick you release the shot–NOW!– to miss the edge of the backboard.

One, both FTs and long shot have been missing lately–30 years since Tampa have not been kind to my left knee–and when you lose confidence in something thats been so good so long, it does cause concern. Like when the prettiest girl in high school hits 46 or realizes the white jeans make her hips look wide. Charlotte no longer thinks its bullet-proof to stormy economics because “we’ve got two of the biggest banks headquartered here,” and BofA shareholders are grateful to see stock isn’t ‘under water’ any more. The unemployment numbers are down, and companies have finally decided to put people back to work, since all utility has been wrung from skeleton staffing, even if MiniMe thinks cutting hours is solution to all.

If its going to come down to attitude, I’ve got that, and it only took some time in the sun, an unexpected couple 100 payoff in commission and a new target to get it righter. I don’t expect a hearty dose of respect for my efforts or a raise (reports are even a 74- Very Good doesn’t get a raise), but Jack and I can see Nautica $$ if we crunch it the last week, so thats afoot.

Extra note of pride: my nephew Paul “put the capstone on his collegiate golf career” by halving his match for Oxford vs. arch-rival Cambridge. Brother Steve couldn’t be ‘on the bag’ because of back injury, but played in brutal cold and wind, it must’ve been epic. Steve says they were forced to only 18 holes both days, delayed start allowed high winds to remove 2″ of snow and actually dry the course somewhat. Winter rules for lifting/cleaning were in effect. Incredible!

Glenn S.

Explaining the title is easy but deep, although it’s taken a lot longer, two weeks, to get even these words into shape than I would have imagined. Eulogies aren’t easy; Mom noted my brother Mike wasn’t talking all that loudly at the church service before we buried my Dad, and Mike responded he’d been doing the best he could.

We all grieve in our own ways, and while I choked up a little while saying what I wanted to at graveside, I was glad to have written what I felt needed saying almost eight years ago for my folks 50th anniversary.

If there’s one absolute about having a loved one die, it’s that you shouldn’t wait until after the last moment to tell them how you felt. That was my guiding principle when composing a ‘take-away’ for friends and family at the happiest time of Mom and Dad’s life in 2005, and thankfully only minor updating got me through.

About the tabasco…

Having tasted some of the meatloaf-mac ‘n cheese-green bean lunch plate in his hospital room, I declared the meatloaf needed that particular condiment, and Dad rolled his eyes behind the oxygen mask, because he used to say I’d put it on corn flakes.

Knowing Waldo F. Shorkey (he rarely used middle name, so I won’t) only had 15% heart function, and when Mom reiterated to doctors  about no extraordinary means to prolong his life, “Why should they crack open an 83-year old man’s chest or put him on a ventilator he’ll never come off of?” was her reasoning, I was very aware the end was near.

That eye roll of recognition is an important something for my head and heart I’ve repeated many times since. My three brothers actually made it to Tampa by 6:00 Tuesday evening, an incredible and immediate support for Mom. When she’d been ready to let the only man she’d loved for even longer than the 58 years they’d been married go, that counted as the rightest time.

Gratitude for Being There

I’m grateful for the Luck-karma-Godsend of having two communicants from Christ the King waiting to get into ICU when I returned from a cup of coffee in Tampa sunshine that morning.

Dad was a lector/flower arranger there for 20 years, and when Mom and I had to leave after giving him some soup and water, the nurses call about Dad’s ‘turn for worse’ as I walked in the back door was followed maybe 30 seconds later by a call that a priest was already on his way.

My father getting Last Rites less than two hours later might’ve happened even if I hadn’t gotten him on their list, but that’s one of those moments that isn’t forgotten.

As succinct and dear as those 50th anniversary notes were, I’ll use them again now:

• How he came down our driveway in Schenectady, NY within 5 min. of 5:00 *every day* was a Goodness that isn’t easy to explain. Sometimes it seemed an inconvenience, but I’m smiling with memories of how the other half of our inevitable 3-on-3 basketball games would dig in defensively, knowing 19-16 wasn’t actually a loss if/when we got called inside for dinner. (Major props for our ‘5th brother’ Dave O. for coming too)
• Whistling tunelessly in his workshop and tapping a ring on the steering wheel during many, many family road trips. Swearing I took half a layer of paint off a telephone pole on that first drive after I got my permit.
• Accepting Mom’s “Let it be on your head!” about being paralyzed before signing a release for Pop Warner football and saying “Don’t get hurt.”
• Taking us to the Watervliet Arsenal early on Saturday mornings to tear apart wooden crates, my hammering/knocking apart skills something brothers have called on repeatedly since. How we managed to get one 24-foot beam home I cannot imagine.
• Christmas Cookies. Mom was the ‘regular’ maker, but those last haystacks and biscotti this Christmas were a long cry from the variety and tinfuls from 1960s-70s, the college years. Lacy molasses praline rollups and date filled ones, hours spent decorating others with cherries, sprinkles, slivers of almonds or little silver balls. Oh, and the eclairs in swan shapes!

It wasn’t in my written anniversary piece, but the fact he ate veggies, which he didn’t actually like, but did to set an example for four boys, was righteous. One of the stories he included in the leather journal I gave him, about how he lied about not going to eat a piece of coconut cream pie – which he dearly loved – before giving it to his oldest brother who was scraping the house, was elementally his spirit of giving.

Dad had polio as a child, was very proud about having served his country in the Navy -all four boys in his family actually served. Racquetball games, especially when I got pinned against a wall and needed him to make some shots in the clutch, are held dear. He couldn’t move very fast, but God! the joy in winning the moment against another father-son team worked great for both of us.

The way he turned around and looked at me before one particular serve, because he knew I was somewhat hung over, that’s a keeper memory. I had to dig his nasty lefty, Z-serve out with a low, just off the wall backhand, obviously that bonding that makes memories.

I didn’t actually cry all that much about his passing, and I believe its because he’d lived a good and full life, even if it meant leaving Mom alone. I’d raced down from Charlotte on Monday intending to pay my respects to Uncle Donnie, his baby brother who’d died in the same hospital on Sunday, also of congestive heart failure.

I failed on that, yet getting the last bits of time to give him a sip of water, to watch his open mouth beneath the oxygen mask, realizing he’d normally be making a racket with his snoring, was worth the effort.

Getting up to pee during the night on camping trips, you tried being subtle about shutting the camper door or shaking the floor getting back into a sleeping bag, but if he stopped sawing wood, you tried getting to sleep fast.

My cousin Frank (‘Skip’ for first 30 years of our lives), whose birthday and Dad’s funeral were Groundhog Day, gave an excellent perspective as we had some wings and a beer at the house.

“Uncle Walt had lots of little pieces of wood saved in the garage, because there might be a need for some particular piece for some future project he’d work on. As long as you’re thinking like that, you haven’t given up on life.”

Amen, Frank. And now I’m crying Dad.
Love, Glenn, Son #2

January is a slow sales month, and February is, well, worse. Tomorrow is my birthday and I certainly didn’t expect to be sweating the economics of 30 hour work weeks and how many $20 (75% off!) jackets I need to sell to pay for myself at this point in life, so getting some gripes off my chest just might be useful. If you’re guilty of similar behavior, consider being a ‘customer upgrade’ and change!

“All I want to do” is almost always trouble because the customer KNOWS they’re on wrong side of standard operating procedure. Lady brought a shirt to counter other day and “all I want” request was take her shirt from elsewhere and swap it for right size. “Its a Vineyard Vines, you won’t have any trouble selling it” was the rationale. Oh, and let’s do the same with this sweater. “Call a manager” is definitely a jaw grinder because obvious expectation is you’ll cave rather than risk embarassment of being overruled. After recently refusing to call a manager because guy pointed out (and NOT just kidding around) similar shirts in big/tall area were 40% off and this one had lot less material so it should cost less, his following me through three departments to see my name tag after suggesting he try that reasoning with another salesperson was unreal.

Won’t get overly deep here, but a couple things you can fix easily. Leaving clothes inside out and on the changing room floor–does your mama deserve a headslap for teaching you that? Can’t figure cost of 50% off item? Come on! Being max enthused about an item that’s exactly what wanted, then returning next day because wife or girlfriend didn’t like it. Returning some childrens game to my counter because you’re too lazy to go to downstairs; bringing Polo (or ladies wear returns) because going to righter place means some sneakiness would be recognized immediately. Especially with returns, being a nasty ‘bulldozer’ vs. remembering flies and honey/vinegar axiom. I may be ’empowered’ to cut you slack, but trying to prove some invisible DUMBASS is written on my forehead will NEVER get my cooperation.

Glenn S.

Te’o’s situation, which spilled over on Notre Dame and became a yippee! nugget for everyone from Katie Couric to Letterman, Saturday Night Live, and legions of Notre Dame haters, is probably not the most painful lie he’ll hear, but yikes! on embarassing. I recently had a female from online dating who mentioned being an entrepreuner that dealt in gold antiquities, was headed to Africa and hoped to meet when she came back. I smelled something similar to Nigerian bank scam, and while I hadn’t been contacted about helping get $26million out of a country for which I’d receive a grateful 15%, I did have experience with “help me please, I’ve been robbed/lost passport/no money but many problems about how to get home.” One note about not helping if I got that kind of message ended communications immediately, but that’s what experience is supposed to help with.

Even beyond that, I dated, had sex with, lived in same city with a particular woman for EIGHT YEARS, and while she was often ‘elsewhere’ for 2-3 weeks (and we ended things several times), the last blast was amazing. Worried about not seeing her I was talking to a friend of her’s when a laser of thought made me ask, “What do you think she does for a living?” The response–patient liasion for a local hospital–might’ve been legit, she’d graduated with related degree–but it was miles from what I thought. “Blood stock agent for Fasig-Tipton,” was my response to “what do YOU think she does?” The point is people can/will bamboozle you early, late, standing in front of you, for money (think Bernie Madoff) or no reason at all.

Knowing how enamored the media was about the dead girlfriend Inspiration angle versus ‘just’ his playing, I would have (hindsight is always so clear) gotten to ESPN guy before that Heisman event and said, “Look man, I know everyone is up about the Lennay thing, but there’s some screwed up aspects for me. I’ll give you first word about it real soon, just please don’t ask about it in front of all these people.” Co-opting some political truth or legal dishonesty while being quoted ticks me off, but it’s ever so different to ask for break because its reeeallly time to put brakes on the situation. Tough to think his stock value went down more for hedging around some truths like Bill Clinton about Monica than how Alabama running backs went right through his tackles is unfortunately going to part of his legacy. If he led Cleveland to the Super Bowl and had nine interceptions as Rookie of the Year, Lennay deal will be in third sentence.

I would also make sure the SOB who messed with me knew staying FAR, FAR away from my grasp was important.

Glenn S.

The Notre Dame claim to rising onto the throne of college champion was pulverized early by Nick Saban’s ‘Bama squad last week, officially becoming a dynasty The Bear can’t take credit for. There will ALWAYS be houndstooth hats and jackets worn, and Tide lovers will forever hug this years coronation to its collective bosom. Eaaaasy there about hugging and bosoms Brent ol’ boy, that’s THE QUARTERBACKS honey you’re drooling on…

It was 21-0 by the time I got from work to the business end of a Bacaratt at The Crisiz Center, and in absolute and statistical terms, the gold domers couldn’t get runners on the ground == pulverized. Notre Dame’s best move was offered late, and despite the derisive way I’ve viewed ND for a decade, they did earn their previous 12-0. ALABAMA *is* that good, and there’s really no controversy about Best Team right now. Ultimate playoff? I’ve never felt bad about two places lifting singular digits if thats how it came out. At the end of a week of bowls and an awesome opening set of pro games though, it became anti-climatic. Then came THIS weekend of football nirvana, and thankfully, the Irish getting whupped is quietly laid to rest, and everyone should pay the $5 you were willing to talk about “just to make it interesting.” Nice year and yes, Johnny Football DID deserve the Heisman more than your guy too.

Ray Lewis continues the Retirement Tour, and you can BET that warrior answers the bell next week. Most asked question: how do you not get far enough back to NOT allow a 72yard or whatever last gasp?

Work has involved beaucoup returns, but also wound up with more like 33 hrs. than previously proscribed 30. Saw plenty of football while carving out well above average weekend. Making positive strides on those special interests (like SC HOBY) because of 3-day off work week was cool. Decided as addition to BPBGRJ (bill paying, benefits giving regular job) to push some hours/units elsewhere, and both business meetings in that area were solid. I’ve reconnected with previous volunteer experiences, and bike riding or shooting hoops physical activity is always suggested, but doing fun or profound whatever that hits your Bazinga! button makes sense too. Meeting that Kiwanis group Thursday moved HOBY portion of my personal goals forward greatly–I’m ready for visit to South group with another lunch time available, then on to Columbia perhaps…Success isn’t always about the paycheck.

The NCAA does a great commercial about “This isn’t the finish line in life” thats equal to a previous “462,000 whatever NCAA athletes, and most of us will go pro in something else” public service message. I mention that because Notre Dame has nothing more to accomplish for now, and next year is their legitimate measuring period. Mine however has become creating units and dollars with the hours provided each week, same as its ever been. Now I have better communications tools though. Notre Dame put some points on the board at the end, and you KNOW ‘Bama wanted that shutout, so thats a mark of character. Me too! Will be my mindset about working a little more (or smarter) because it makes a difference in these trying times. Quality always counts, right?

And Notre Dame, much as that Tide rolled, Hurricane Sandy’s devastation of NY-NJ leaves comparison to THAT in rear view mirror. NOBODY better say Peyton failed again in ANY kind of same breath with that Irish loss either. Just sayin’…

Glenn S.

After 12+ hrs. on inventory and one of the last checkers out on Sunday, I’m taking an elementary step towards supplementing my regular bill-paying, benefits providing, reduce to 30 hours-by-executive-fiat-job, beginning with a 7:30 am meeting about fundraising that I scheduled around three straight days off. I’ve worked with Kurt N. before, and meeting includes web content and specific products-programs I’ll be promoting in the scholastic sports arena beginning shortly. Leaving behind economic negatives about a truncated ‘regular’ work schedule, I’ve decided to proactively seek additional opportunities in what I believe requires entrepeunerial spirit in economic action, somehow make my extra time worth while to others.

My professional background in large and small group motivation is a long-time strength, and with a manageable goal in group sales there should be a reasonable payoff for consistent efforts. I have always appreciated a well-displayed carrot, and at least until the end of this year that includes some commission $$ at day job in retail. Jack and I weren’t near last years figures, missing by over $7000, but nobody really was–Polo was $50k-plus shy of last December (which was a record) but we still pumped PLENTY of product down the stretch. Speaking from the ‘eat what you drag back to the cave’ mentality, working the Nautica line for 16 months provided opportunities for extra cash above commission. Our two-man dept. probably goes to 30 hrs. next week, so there’s really no growth possible there. Having consistently warned ‘day job’ customers about slashing staffing levels 20% might affect their shopping experience through FEBRUARY, I see an some pretty short-sighted personnel screwing for the sake of a probably unfixable budget. It’s not going to enhance anyone’s perceptions of Availabilty or Willingness to Recommend (a ghastly 25% on the first 4 returns of the year)when there’s factually nobody around to take their money. I’ve never been Just a Clerk ringing the register; I’m a Salesperson, that truly sorta terrific guy who gave succinct and clear directions, had solid and helpful info and opinions that’s missing from skeleton-staffing.

Getting back to guerilla marketing tactics and counting volume hits a pride chord, but I’m proud of the fundraising/sports memorabilia I’ll also be doing locally and for the So. Carolina chaper of the HUGH O’BRIAN YOUTH (SC HOBY) youth leadership organization as well. Committing to HOBY after 3 days of facilitating a certain Team Belgium in June is energizing to the psyche, brings personal giving to an elevated level. I’m taking advantage of opportunity to sharpen my game, and for my Bottom Line, serving a small but important clientele (like HOBY) for free works because it affirms my belief in Quality People doing the right things at the right time. Experts agree, if you’ve really got a passion that translates into actions for another organization or person, unpaid ‘free time’ in your weekly schedule becomes Better vs. just a bite.

They always say work your passion and you’ll never have a job. Or at least not a second one. When I start getting my production right, I’ll let you know.

Glenn Shorkey