Workin' Man - Part XI - Consultants, Management Time and The Answer Man, Oh My

Well, I get up at seven, yeah

And I go to work at nine
I got no time for livin'
Yes, I'm workin' all the time

It seems to me
I could live my life
A lot better than I think I am
I guess that's why they call me
They call me the workin' man

'Cause I get home at five o'clock
And I take myself out an ice cold beer
Always seem to be wondering'
Why there's nothin' goin' down here

I guess that's why they call me
They call me the workin' man

"Workin' Man" - Words & Music by Lee & Lifeson 

I have learned over the decades to be extremely suspicious of consultants. They generally don't know as much as they think that they do, they make extravagant promises and make sure to feed you enough information to keep you interested and willing to keep bringing them back. I don't recall the name of this consultant, but what he was pitching was process improvement. In general I think process improvement is a good idea. In short, what it involves is looking at your processes for anything that is superfluous and analyzing the steps and handoffs involved. Are there steps that are unnecessary or don't add value? Is it generating paper that doesn't go anywhere? Are unnecessary people involved? The program started off with a weekend retreat at Mahoney State Park attended by representatives from all of the company's divisions. We were supposed to hash out a plan to implement a process improvement program, based on guidance from the consultant. What we came up with was a grass roots, from the bottom up, methodology for  implementing change in the company. According to the plan, a core group of people would go around to all the departments, interview the staff, and map out the processes involved in their jobs. Once this was all done, a team of any four people could implement a change to any department after putting together a detailed plan. Coaches, who had undergone training by the consultant, who be available to guide and advise the change teams. So far do good. Or so we thought. 

The problems started right away. The unionized sections of the company refused to participate. Other areas like the reporters didn't have a specific procedure that they followed. I was one of the coaches, and stayed busy training teams on how to implement change according to the program. But more problems cropped up when teams that had no real understanding of how divisions of the company worked were making changes to those divisions without the permission, or even the input, of the affected managers. I don't remember anything actually getting done. Ever. Eventually the Publisher (newspaper-speak for CEO) got tired of the whole thing and fired the consultant. My skepticism of consultants continues to this day. 

I was one of those people who volunteered for everything. And got volunteered for everything. One of the more fun things that I signed up for was being on staff for the Omaha World-Herald carrier newsletter. Every month I wrote an article called "The Answer Man". My non de plume was Dlarehd L. Rowahamo - which is Omaha World-Herald spelled backwards. The premise was that Dlarehd was either from another planet, or perhaps another dimension or timeline, and didn't quite understand what was going on. He constantly got things backwards, but ended up covering things that needed to be covered, like sales contests and changes in subscription price, in a humorous manner. The first few issues were a battle to stop the editors from spell checking me, since I made up a lot of words! I was once involved in a seminar where the facilitator was trying to demonstrate the value of consensus in putting together a mission statement, rather than simply a vote of the majority. My thinking was that the bigger the group, the less likely it is that consensus could be achieved. So during this consensus building exercise, I decided that I would be a contrarian and refuse to agree to the nascent consensus. The moderator tried to negotiate with me, but I dug in my heels and wouldn't agree to anything. Was I being a jerk? Absolutely, but I also effectively debunked his idea of the inevitability of consensus. I believe they abandoned consensus and decided to outvote me!

One of the things I learned participating in all of those committees was that there is an ideal number of people on a committee. Too few and you get groupthink; too many and you never come to a conclusion. Once a committee gets too big the best thing that can be done is break it up into subcommittees. Have that subcommittee do the work of crafting a plan, then present it to the larger group and have them vote on it. 

There were a lot of other projects and committees that I volunteered for, but despite all the work I was putting into these activities that were adjacent to my regular job description, they weren't really valued by management. Every year State Circulation had an annual meeting where awards were given out for outstanding achievement. There were cash awards given out in conjunction with these recognitions as well. One particular year I was sure I'd be recognized for something like team player, (for which there was an award) or for all the committees I was recruited for, but every award, like every other year, went to the sales reps whose sales went up the most. I had an epiphany. I realized that I was spending hours upon hours every week on projects that simply weren't valued and resulted in no reward or even recognition. Not even a pat on the back. The next day I resigned from every single committee and program that I was involved in and spent my time on the things that would bring me recognition, and more importantly, more money!

The most interesting thing I was involved in was an 18-month management training course. At least part of it was interesting. Honestly I can't remember most of what they covered, but we would be at training two-three days a week a couple of times a month. One class that stood out was one where we were supposed learn how to let go of our stress and to relax by means of guided meditation. I didn't get much out of it, but one of my fellow trainees fell asleep and was snoring loudly. I guess he was relaxed! The part that I learned the most from, and have carried to this day, was a week-long class called Managing Management Time. I had taken my share of time management courses before, including one that was a thinly disguised front for a company selling pocket calendars. (This was well before the days when everyone had a multi-purpose supercomputer in their pocket) Managing Management Time was a theory of management that I had never heard before. The premise was that management was a skill like any other, and separate from the skills of the people that were being managed, the ranks of whom the manager had presumably arrived from. The time management tips were really corollaries to spending your time as a manager, not just another one of the guys. One of the main nuggets of wisdom was the saying "The job of a manger is not to do things, but to get things done.  The course covered a lot of the management fallacies. One was the "Pride of Craft" fallacy, where a new manager was so attached to her pre-management job, that she would spend a large portion of her work week doing the job that she had just been promoted out of. This was in addition to all the new management responsibilities. This was why many new managers end up working 60-70 hour weeks! Other topics included the responsibility of a manager to train his subordinates to do their jobs independently, instead of micromanaging them; and knowing what things were actually her responsibility - knowing who the "monkey" belonged to! A piece of practical advice included procrastination: if nobody follows up on that task you were given, it probably wasn't that important! The main nugget of wisdom was that there was management time and vocational time. As managers we were being paid to manage, not to do the tasks that we were paying other people to do. Your subordinates might think you were a cool guy for getting your hands dirty working side by side with them, and occasionally that might serve as a morale builder, but it wasn't your job. I still have the book from this class on my bookshelf and have applied the principles consistently over the years. 

As I mentioned in the previous installment, my old manager Dave was once again my manager. He was much easier to work with this time around. Maybe he had mellowed with experience. Maybe he was thankful he had a veteran like myself on his team. Whatever the reason, it was considerably better this time around. After I had been back in my old district for a while, Dave decided to make a change. Dodge County, which included the city of Fremont, had recently been detached from its district in Region 4 and added to our region. Fremont had two busy distributorships as well as a number of large motor routes, both seven-day and Sunday only, as well as routes in all of the smaller towns. Dave asked me if I would consider taking over that district, along with a decent raise. I agreed. On my first Sunday in the county Dave and I both were out delivering papers in a blizzard! I also had my first visit to South Dakota when I was assigned to convert all the racks in South Dakota to new settings after a price change. 

Outside of Dodge County, things were changing in State Circulation. A lot of the managers who had been in charge were leaving the company. The last several State Circulation Managers had risen through the ranks within the newspaper, but one by one they were being promoted into Metro, transferred to one of our subsidiaries, or leaving the company altogether. The new State Manager was from outside the company and had already brought in a few of his friends from his previous newspaper as Region Managers. Like many new executives, he was keen to shake things up and make changes. He and Dave did not get along. The friction got so bad that Dave eventually resigned. It was funny - after Dave left a lot of the other sales reps asked me if I was worried since "my buddy" had left, not realizing that Dave and I were far from "buddies"! 

Jerry, the new Region Manager had come from our competitor, The Lincoln Journal-Star. He convinced me to transfer districts again, this time back to the Lincoln Office as the Single Copy Manager. This time around I also had some responsibility for single copy throughout all regions of the state.  This involved putting together an inventory of every rack in the state (outside of the Omaha metro area) and ordering and delivering new racks when needed. I conducting training classes on rack repair and changing pricing mechanisms. It was amazing how many sales reps had no idea where the racks were in their districts or in what shape they were in. In dealing with the Region Manager and his sales reps in the Western Nebraska Region I also got a taste of how small town Nebraskans viewed people from the urban areas - with barely concealed disdain. I remember trying to get an address for a storage facility in Kearney so I could deliver some new racks and being told that this wasn't the big city, we don't have addresses out here. (Spoiler: there was an address)

Around this time, in order to pay off my credit card debt I took a part-time job working the night stocking crew at the Super Saver on Cornhusker Highway. I'll discuss that job more in a future article. I got the job because one of the guys who worked on my crew at Food 4 Less was a manager there. He introduced me to his Store Director whose only question was "Can you work nights?" - I was hired. 

As Single Copy Manager I was always looking for ways to sell more papers. I hustled around town looking for new locations for racks, and worked on maximizing the number of papers in each location, paying attention to sales and returns. On Husker Football Game Days we rented a parking stall at the old Greyhound Station and parked a pickup truck there full of papers. We sold a paper-spirit card combo for the price of a paper (then 25¢) which counted as paid circulation. The big win was when I convinced downtown restaurants to commit to paying for hundreds of papers at a reduced rate that I would give away at the stadium with a map to the restaurant stapled to the sports section. We did this for every Lincoln sporting event and it was a great success. My circulation numbers skyrocketed. Since increased circulation was one of the things that our bonus was based on, I was making some extra money!

Like at many places, when you succeed, you're expected to keep succeeding. In an industry where a 2% increase was almost unheard of (I used to say exceeding 2% will result in a temple being built, devoted to your worship) I achieved a 20% annual increase in paid circulation. The company set my goal the following year for another 20%. I achieved a only 10% increase (still, 30% greater than 2 years previously) but received no bonus, even though sales reps with 1% and 2% increases did. I was extremely unhappy. By this time, there was a new State Circulation Manager (again), this time a transplant from the Lincoln Journal Star who Jerry didn't get along with, so I got a new, new boss, a guy named Kevin. Kevin was able to get me a salary increase, (no bonus recalculation though) but I thought it was a case of too little, too late, and resigned to take a management job with Super Saver. This meant that I needed to quit my part-time job with Super Saver and get a new part-time job to pay off my debt. I took a part-time job with the Omaha World-Herald!

Workin' Man - Part X - More Ups and Downs, Promotions and Demotions

Well, I get up at seven, yeah

And I go to work at nine
I got no time for livin'
Yes, I'm workin' all the time

It seems to me
I could live my life
A lot better than I think I am
I guess that's why they call me
They call me the workin' man

'Cause I get home at five o'clock
And I take myself out an ice cold beer
Always seem to be wondering'
Why there's nothin' goin' down here

I guess that's why they call me
They call me the workin' man

"Workin' Man" - Words & Music by Lee & Lifeson

Back to Southeast Nebraska, District 55. At least I hadn't been fired and I was in an area that I was familiar with. Not long after this the State Circulation Manager transferred to another newspaper and we got a new boss, who as I would find out, didn't care about the whole Grand Island debacle. For a while I kept my head down, but I had a few bumps in the road. In my previous time as a sales rep I was pretty lucky, I was always able to fill an open route without having to go out and deliver it myself. Finally the odds caught up to me. One of my Sunday Only motor route carriers was quitting. He gave plenty of notice, but I was unable to find a replacement before his last day. I had driven around with him in the daylight, and he had given me a set of directions. But the world looks a lot different in the middle of the night. It must also be emphasized that in those days the 911 addresses for rural homes had not been implemented yet, every addresses was a P.O. Route and a Box Number. Other than highways, no roads had signs, so unless you had a great sense of direction, you didn't know where you were. So, without a replacement I had to deliver the route myself. It should have taken around four hours. It seemed like the directions were accurate. I was able to move along pretty steadily for a couple of hours until inexplicably, I ran into a problem. The roads weren't lining up with the directions. There were "T" intersections where roads should have gone through, minimum maintenance instead of gravel and the like. I traced my route backwards on the directions and realized that about an hour previously I had missed the words "make a U-turn" and had been going in the wrong direction and delivering to the wrong houses for about an hour. I attempted to backtrack, but ended up even more lost, and by this time I didn't have many papers left to deliver to the correct houses, even if I did manage to retrace my steps back to where I made the error. So I went home and waited for the phone calls...there were many. The old carrier was also getting calls. I knew this when he left a message on my answering machine, screaming "Do your job, do your job, do your damn job!"

The Lincoln/Lancaster County Circulation Office had always operated as a separate region, with a manager and two sales reps, but the corporate office decided to combine the office with the southeast Nebraska District, so I ended up transferring into the Lincoln district. The location had been designed with three offices, each accessible from a hallway which ran from a receptionist's desk up front to a bullpen for carriers and bundle haulers in the back. At some point it was decided that a fourth office was needed, so they split one the three office in half, with the new office accessible only by going through one of the other offices. That was my office. The good part of this arrangement was that anyone walking down the hallway couldn't see me - didn't even know I was there, so I was able to work in piece. 

I held a few positions while there. I spent some time as the office manager, which meant I hired and supervised all the bundle haulers, miss runners and office staff. At first it meant getting middle of the night phone calls from Mike, my dock supervisor, who always thought he needed to permission to handle any kind of problem. Eventually I encouraged him to operate more independently. 

Part of my tenure I was the Single Copy Manager. "Single Copy" refers to non-subscription, non-home delivery sales. It includes vending machines, aka "racks", as well as sales in gas stations, grocery stores and the like. One of the challenges was to maximize sales and minimize returns in the racks. A directive from the Omaha office was to shoot for one unsold paper in each rack every day. The theory was that, with exactly one paper left, no one who wanted a paper would find an empty rack and we would be assured that the maximum number of papers would be sold. A separate goal was that unsold papers would not exceed 20%. The problem with this was that these two goals were mutually exclusive. If there was one unsold paper in every rack, the number of unsold papers would exceed 20%. One of my favorite parts of the job was that I could spend my day in the fresh air, repairing malfunctioning racks, replacing older racks with new ones, or just giving them a good cleanup and polish. Of course, the rack out at Branched Oak received a lot of attention!

After a while, I felt that my stock was going back up and I had recovered from the Grand Island incident. A Regional Sales Manager position was opening up in Region 4, northeast Nebraska. Dave, my nemesis from years before, was being transferred from there to Region 5, since Michelle was leaving the company. I applied for the position, figuring it was a longshot. I had previously applied for an open Regional Manager slot in Western Nebraska, but had been turned down, so I was surprised that I had been selected. Since I lived in Lincoln, the new position would require a lot of driving, the region covered a lot of ground - all northeast Nebraska north of the Platte River from the Iowa border to Valentine, including South Dakota border counties. But once again I was walking into a mess that wasn't obvious until I got into the middle of it. 

Omaha World-Herald Regional Managers directly supervised 5-6 sales reps, each one overseeing a district of several counties. Most of my sales reps required very little supervision. Two exemptions were Max, a sixtyish guy who lived in Ord, and the sales rep for the district that included South Sioux City. The South Sioux City district had a lot of turnover and was in the process of converting to office billing when Dave transferred the sales rep from there to an open district in Region 5 - this took place in the short interim after Michelle left, but before I was promoted and Dave was running both Regions. This left me with an open District on Day One. I'll get back to that - let's talk about Max.

Max was probably younger then than I am now, but he came across to late thirties me as a curmudgeonly old man. He was one of those guys raised in a rural community who thinks "city folks don't know nothin'". He could be counted upon at every monthly meeting to loudly point out that his (rural) district was different than all the (supposedly) urban districts. The "big cities" he referred to were Fremont, Columbus, Norfolk and South Sioux City. Max also liked to wake up at 6:00 AM and start making phone calls. In the newspaper business, if there was going to be an emergency, it was going to take place well before dawn. If your alarm went off without you having had to go out and deliver a route, the possibility of an emergency had passed. Emergency or not, Max would call me some time between 6:00 and 7:00 AM, usually just to chat. I wasn't much of a morning person in those days, so a call from Max usually interrupted my sleep. After telling him one morning to not call me before 8:00 AM unless it was an emergency, he decided that undermining me would be a good career move. He would call up to the main office, usually the State Circulation Manager's secretary, and tell her that he couldn't get ahold of me. She would then call me, and I'd pick up. He was constantly going over my head and complaining. But this was just a minor irritant. 

The South Sioux City District didn't have a distributor, just several large motor routes, but some of the problems were similar to what I had encountered in Grand Island. The city and nearby Dakota City were in the process of being converted to office billing. The previous sales rep, under the previous Regional Manager Dave's direction, had taken over the billing, but had not fully turned it over to the central office when he transferred to another district, which I was unaware of. There were, like in Grand Island, a significant number of customers who had not been receiving bills. So, when I hired a new sales rep, he had a mess to deal with. It quickly overwhelmed him. If I had dug a little deeper, asked a few more questions, I might have anticipated the situation and gotten the other sales reps in to help with the billing and conversion. But the depth of the problems caused things to spin out of control quite fast. I had scheduled a meeting with my new sales rep to get an update on his progress. He met me at his door in a dirty t-shirt with a box full of unsent bills with the news that he was quitting with no notice. He also called my boss to let him know what a terrible manager I was. 

Troy, my immediate supervisor, met with me shortly thereafter. He had already communicated a few weeks earlier that he wasn't happy with my performance and that things needed to improve. Things hadn't improved. He gave me three options:

1. Stick with it, but if no improvement in two weeks, I'd be fired
2. Resign, i.e. leave without getting fired
3. Accept a demotion

I knew there was no way to turn it around in two weeks, and I didn't want to start job hunting, so I opted for number three. Troy was gracious about it and allowed me to inform my team of my decision myself. My demotion brought me back briefly to my old area - District 55 - Omaha, Nemaha, Johnson, Pawnee and Richardson Counties. Dave, who I had previously had problems with, was no longer the asshole he had been when I worked for him previously, possibly because he had a bunch of rookies as sales reps and was happy to have someone with experience on his team. 

Before I go on about my third stint as a sales rep in District 55, I want to divert to a few other things I got involved with over the years: the consultant-inspired "grass roots" process improvement initiative, the 18-month management training, and the various things I volunteered for. 

Workin' Man - Part IX - Paper Pushin', Number Crunchin' Son of a Bitch

Well, I get up at seven, yeah

And I go to work at nine
I got no time for livin'
Yes, I'm workin' all the time

It seems to me
I could live my life
A lot better than I think I am
I guess that's why they call me
They call me the workin' man

'Cause I get home at five o'clock
And I take myself out an ice cold beer
Always seem to be wondering'
Why there's nothin' goin' down here

I guess that's why they call me
They call me the workin' man

"Workin' Man" - Words & Music by Lee & Lifeson

 Looking at this period of my employment, it's clear that some kind of tutorial on how to handle money should have been part of the selection process when contracting distributors. Distributors, like carriers, were independent contractors. We didn't pay them for their time, they earned a profit on the difference between the cost of the papers and what customers paid them. Generally when contracting a new one, we got them a list of carriers and customers and left them to it. This just about guaranteed that the papers were delivered, but that's about it. 

In addition to the whole issue of cash flow that was covered in the previous installment, there was the fact that home delivered papers cost the distributor a different price than the "single copy" papers, i.e. those that were sold from vending machines. This became a problem once we had converted a distributorship to office billing. One particular distributor in Falls City was one of the few who understood the cash flow situation and had no problem making the transition to office billing. (i.e. he wasn't spending money that wasn't his) But this distributor, like many other who were now receiving a "profit check" every two weeks, viewed it as a "paycheck" and didn't understand when it varied according to the number of papers they ordered. In a typical distributorship the distributor received income from, not only the profit check, but from the cash in the form of quarters that they removed from the vending racks. There was a period of time when the number of subscriptions were dropping, but the number of papers sold in the vending machines was increasing. This caused the amount of the profit check to decrease, since in addition to the credit for what a customer paid for the paper, and the charge for the home delivery papers, there was also the charge for the papers going in to the racks. Of course this was balanced by an increased amount of money in cash, but it was hard to get them to understand. More math:

Let's say we have, like we did in Part VIII, 2000 papers in a city. 1500 of them are subscriptions and 500 are sold from racks. The subscriptions are billed at $1.00 each, and cost the customer $2.00 for $1.00/week in profit. The papers in the racks are billed at an average of $1.50/week, for a weekly profit of $1.25. In this example:

Net profit from subscriptions: $1,500

Charge for single copy: $750

Profit check: $750

Cash from racks: $1,375

Total profit: $2,125

But let's say the total numbers stay the same, but the ratio changes, say 1,250 subscriptions and 750 single copy

Net profit from subscriptions: $1,250

Charge for single copy: $1,125

Profit check: $125

Cash from racks: $2,062.50

Total profit: $2,187.50

The net profit has increased by $62.50, but since the check has decreased by the same amount, the illusion is that the distributor is making less money. My Falls City distributor was in a similar situation, and since he wasn't keeping track of the money he was collecting from racks, he thought he was making less money for the same amount of papers. It took a lot to convince him that he was actually ahead, but math is hard for some people. 

[The numbers I am quoting are for illustration purposes, I have no clear memory of what the World-Herald was charging for papers back then, or what the profit per paper was]

So I was dropped into this culture of lack of understanding of simple math, let alone the economics of profit/loss and cash flow. It was bad enough when I was auditing a distributor who had been contracted for a number of years, but in some cases there was a succession of distributors, one after the other, often starting out in the financial hole because the previous distributor had failed to transfer over future payments and the sales rep hadn't caught it. It was a mess of unbelievable proportions. It didn't help that some of the sales reps, ostensibly representing the company, sympathized with the distributors and undermined me as I showed up to do audits. One of the worst was in Grand Island.

Grand Island was divided into two distributorships, and both of them saw a parade of distributors presiding over the chaos. The district also included Hastings, also divided into two distributorships. One of my more memorable meetings was with a distributor who was delinquent in her payments. When showing up for audits I always dressed in a suit and tie to impress upon them the seriousness of my visit, even though the usual dress code was a bit looser, more like business casual. (I also dressed this way for court, a coworker once called them my "ass-kicking clothes") Whenever I arrived at an audit, usually for a distributor whom I had never met, I always introduced myself as "Tom Joyce, World-Herald Collections". Jackie, the sales rep for this area, who would end up quitting shortly after this audit, had apparently been coaching the distributor. My introduction was met with the response of "You're not nobody, you're just a paper pushin', number crunchin' son of a bitch". It didn't get any better from there on in.

The district that included Grand Island had been part of the western Nebraska Zone, number 7, but had been moved to Zone 5, the southeastern Nebraska region, where Michelle, my old manager was still in charge. This district was such a mess, that after Jackie quit, management decided that I would be sent in to clean it up before they would hire a new sales rep. I had done this for another district not long before and they apparently thought that I was the guy to fix all the issues. Of the Grand Island and Hastings distributorships, three of the four were open, i.e. substitutes were delivering the papers to the carriers while I paid the carriers, collected from the vending machines and tried to get things in order before we hired new distributors. Before I took over the distributorships had been converted to office billing, but I had not been involved in the conversion. In theory all the advanced payments had been transferred to the corporate office, but we found out much later that only around 75% of the customers were actually being billed, and of that 75% around a third were in arrears. This problem was hidden for quite a while. The cash that had been transferred from the previous distributor to the company run "office distributorship" was large enough that the bi-weekly statement showed a credit balance for over a month, maybe two. Since that cash transfer only represented a portion of the customers who were receiving papers, and since the statement billed the office account for the full amount of papers delivered, pretty soon the office account, which I was responsible for, started showing a balance due. Each week I collected quarters from the racks and deposited the funds, but it wasn't enough to balance out the fact that half the customers weren't paying for the papers. 

When I realized what was happening I tried to fix the problem. Many of the carriers couldn't produce route lists with names and addresses of customers. I suggested dropping the number of papers to match customers that we could verify and rebilling anyone who called to complain, but this idea was rejected. We had carriers hand deliver bills to all customers who we didn't have on our lists, and received only a trickle of payments. One of the things that I suspected was that the recently quit sales rep had artificially inflated sales number in order to earn a bonus. I'd seen this before. Before the days of office billing it was hard to verify whether a new customer was real or not. It was pretty clear by this juncture that a large percentage of papers were being delivered to people who didn't want them, or at least didn't want to pay for them. Again I explained to Michelle, the manager in charge of the Region, (Zones had been renamed Regions) the situation. She explained it to upper management, but we were still prevented from decreasing the number of papers.

The price paid by a subscriber for a paper doesn't come close to paying for the cost of producing that paper. Advertising is what paid the bills. But high circulation numbers served to justify higher advertising costs. The Audit Bureau of Circulation was an outside entity that confirmed circulation numbers so that the advertising sales reps wouldn't be tempted to inflate them. But if papers were being delivered and there was no evidence that they weren't being paid for, they counted toward your circulation numbers. Patrick D, the State Circulation Manager at the time, simply was unwilling to take a huge hit to the sales figures.

During all of this I was shielded somewhat from what was being discussed among the big dogs of Circulation. I informed Michelle of the problems, and I assumed that she was educating Patrick D about why it wasn't going to get better. I don't know if she was doing a poor job of communicating or Patrick just didn't want to hear it, but we both were summoned to Omaha for a meeting one afternoon. In the course of the conversation it became clear that Patrick thought that Michelle and I were mismanaging the district, or even possibly stealing money. He was adamant that the "missing" money was due to some malfeasance on the part of one or both of us. I tried to explain it was only missing on paper - that the balance due was there, and would only get larger because we were delivering more papers than we were getting paid for. He was not interested in anything I had to say, and made it clear that both mine and Michelle's jobs were on the line. I couldn't believe it, I couldn't believe that he would think that we would steal from the company and I couldn't believe that he couldn't understand simple math.

Here's where I shot myself in the foot. Not long before I had been out collecting quarters from the vending racks. I had around $300 in a bank bag - I don't recall why I put the bag on top of my car, but I did - and drove off, losing it.  Already Patrick had been making noises about the shortfall in the distributorship, and I was afraid to admit that I lost $300, so I didn't say anything, figuring that with all the other losses, it would go unnoticed. And it did, up to that point. (By this time the on paper shortfall was several thousand dollars) Scared that Patrick would somehow find out about the lost bank bag, I took $300 of my own money, bought a money order and deposited it, claiming that I had "found" a money order that I misplaced and forgot to deposit. I didn't think Patrick would believe the true story. Well, he didn't believe the fake story either, and saw it as evidence that I was up to something shady. I was called into his office and confronted with the fact that the date on the money order was a few days old, refuting my story. I chose not to try and defend myself. Amazingly, I was not fired, but I was demoted back to my old job, which had just come back open - southeast Nebraska, District 55.

Workin' Man - Part VIII - What? Am I Delivering Papers Again?

Well, I get up at seven, yeah

And I go to work at nine
I got no time for livin'
Yes, I'm workin' all the time

It seems to me
I could live my life
A lot better than I think I am
I guess that's why they call me
They call me the workin' man

'Cause I get home at five o'clock
And I take myself out an ice cold beer
Always seem to be wondering'
Why there's nothin' goin' down here

I guess that's why they call me
They call me the workin' man

"Workin' Man" - Words & Music by Lee & Lifeson

So, I was back to working multiple part-time jobs. The newspaper job was much as it had been a few years before. At the floor cleaning company I travelled around the city cleaning bathrooms and floors of the many businesses that Trotter had contracts with. Most of the guys I worked with were former convicts. One was the nephew of Charlie Starkweather. I think my boss was afraid of them. At one point he gave me a raise and told me that I was the crew supervisor, but asked me not to tell anyone that I was, since it would upset them. We cleaned a variety of places: a school room, a gym, a car dealership, a venue that could be rented out for weddings and other parties, and my old store that I had been fired from. After a few months I applied for a full-time salaried position at The Omaha World-Herald, Sales Representative for several counties in southeast Nebraska. 

The Omaha World-Herald's staff was divided into several divisions: Editorial, which included reporters and editors; Production, the people who put together the physical paper; Advertising, salesmen who sold ads in the paper - which paid most of the bills; Administrative - Personnel, Payroll and Accounting; and finally Circulation, the people who brought the newspaper to your door, the paper carriers, bundle haulers, truck drivers and the like. I was part of Circulation. 

Circulation was divided into two main divisions, Metro and State. Metro covered the city of Omaha and some of it's suburbs. State was further divided into Zones. Zone 4 was eastern Nebraska north of the Platte River as far west as Valentine; Zone 5 was eastern Nebraska south of the Platte River as far west as York; Zone 7 was the rest of Nebraska; Zone 6 was Western Iowa. Each Zone also included border counties in adjacent states. Each Zone was overseen by a Zone Manager and was further divided into districts run by a Sales Representative who coordinated paper carriers and "single copy" (store sales and vending machines, aka "racks"). Some areas, usually the small towns, received service every day, often by teenage paper carriers. The larger towns were coordinated by a distributor who handled many of the same duties as a sales rep within their town. Rural areas received papers only on Sunday, delivered by a "motor route carrier". Papers were delivered to the carriers by way of a complex web of drivers that were contracted by the Transportation Department, and who were not overseen by the sales rep. 

When I first started as a sales rep I was responsible for Lancaster, Otoe, Nemaha and Johnson Counties; not long afterward Lancaster was absorbed into the office that ran the city of Lincoln, and Pawnee and Richardson Counties were added to my district. As a sales rep I didn't have an office, but worked out of my home and my car. day to day, it wasn't a very difficult job, the carriers mostly worked without any supervision. Most customers paid their carriers directly. Carriers would order the total number of papers that they needed and were billed for them by the World-Herald. What was left over was the carrier's profit. 

Sales Reps were pretty much on their own with minimal supervision by the Zone Manager. The only things that your manager or the State Circulation Manager monitored was collections and sales. We would get a report every other week listing the status of each carrier's bill. If they were in arrears we were expected to send out a letter reminding them that their bill was overdue. If nonpayment went on for too long we were expected to visit the carrier and collect in person. This was hardly ever a problem. I had one restaurant owner in Brownville who had a rack out front. He liked to pay once a month and once threatened to thrown the rack in the Missouri River if I sent him another letter! The other thing that was monitored was sales. This was back in the pre-internet days when people were actually reading newspapers. We were expected to at least maintain our circulation numbers, but ideally increase them year over year. We would receive bonuses for increases of 1%, 2% or maintaining previous year's numbers. Every few months corporate would sponsor sales contests where carriers would receive cash or prizes for getting new customers. On occasion all the sales reps in a Zone would converge on a town and escort carriers door-to-door to solicit news sales. We could also contract telemarketers to increase sales as well. 

If things were running smoothly, you hardly had anything to do, and your work weeks were quite a bit less than 40 hours. On the flip side, if carriers quit and you had to deliver routes yourself as well as hunt for a replacement, you might be working in excess of 60 hour weeks. One thing that I have always been good at was organization and time management, so I made sure that all my carriers were trained to handle problems themselves, including minor issues like a vending rack that didn't work or a shortage of papers. 

I don't know if this was normal for businesses during this time period, but even though there was a "personnel" department, it wasn't like the Human Resources Departments that you see today. Personnel basically just made sure all the paperwork was filled out. There wasn't any annual performance reviews either. Pay increases were totally at the discretion of your manager. When I was first hired, my manager liked me, so I received decent increases. When she accepted a promotion as a Training Manager I applied for the open Zone Manager position. Not only did I not get the promotion, but I found out about it when I ran into another sales rep at the airport - management had no intention of informing me. Dave, the recipient of the promotion had started around the same time as I did. As with the lack of any kind of HR involvement in the review process, the manager had complete discretion regarding who was promoted. In this case both Dave and Jim, the State Circulation Manager, had similar backgrounds as high school football players and later, coaches. People tend to believe that people who are just like them are the most qualified. They obviously believe that they themselves are qualified, so people like them must also be the best candidates for promotion. Getting passed over for promotion might have over more easily if I had actually been interviewed for the position, but I made the best of it. The problem was that Dave was a terrible manager.

I don't know if  Dave had been the kind of coach who yelled at his players, or if it was just his personality, but he was rude and abusive. He made unreasonable demands and was a master of gaslighting well before I knew what gaslighting was. He was quite a contrast with Mary, our previous manager. By all accounts the sales reps in our zone were all doing our jobs competently, and Mary just got a promotion, so her methods must have been acceptable, but like a lot of newly promoted managers, Dave acted like things needed to be fixed. He had the "new sheriff in town" attitude. It got bad enough that several of us went over his head to complain to Jim, his immediate supervisor. Rather than taking us seriously, all of us were branded as complainers. The good news was that Dave and the manager from northeast Nebraska switched places. Michelle, the new manager was much easier to work with, but we all had targets on our backs. 

As the new year began I approached Michelle, our new manager, about a pay increase, which up until that time had been awarded automatically every January. I was told that raises were given for performance, not seniority. Obviously the result of speaking up about a bad manager had resulted in me being tarred as a "bad" employee. I was able to negotiate a re-evaluation of my performance in three months. During that time I did absolutely nothing different, but received a raise anyway. This was to be a pattern for my thirteen years with The Omaha World-Herald: alternating between being a star performer and getting in big trouble (sometimes my own fault, sometimes a victim of circumstance)

After I had been a sales rep for a few years, the State Circulation Manager created a new position - Special Projects Coordinator. It was an ill-defined position that boiled down to executing any bright idea the State Manager came up with. The first idea was to turn Sunday-only delivery areas into seven-day delivery areas. Most rural areas only received home delivery on Sunday, with Monday - Saturday papers arriving in the mail. The reason that this was the case was that it cost too much to pay someone to deliver papers over routes that were sometimes over 100 miles long and took hours to deliver...every day. Carriers made their money on the difference between what they were charged for the papers and what the customers paid them. On a small in-town route there wasn't much expense involved in delivering papers, but on these large motor routes where there were often miles between customers, the World-Herald added on what was called a "rate adjustment" to make the route financially viable for the carrier. Turning these Sunday Only routes into Seven Day routes would have meant increasing the rate adjustment. Without getting too deep into the math, the profit on a Sunday paper was quite a bit higher than for a daily paper, so the rate adjustment would have to be increased by a factor of 10 or 15 at least, not merely six. This was clearly financially unsupportable. Add this to the reality that most, if not all, the Sunday motor carriers worked a regular job during the week and would be unavailable Monday - Saturday. This would mean replacing them with someone willing to deliver newspapers every day. If they could be found. After working on this for a couple of months we were able to do this on only one route, and the initiative was abandoned. 

My next assignment as Special Projects Coordinator was to fill in as Acting Collections Manager after the previous manager retired. The OWH was in the process of converting customers from paying the carriers to them being billed centrally from the corporate office. This would mean that instead of paying a bill every two weeks, carriers would receive a biweekly check for their profits. (They would still be collecting cash from their vending machines and any stores they delivered to). This meant that I would have to audit carriers and distributors to get a list of all their customers, as well as how far they had paid in advance. What we would do with this information was enter the customers' information in the Circulation database. If they had paid in advance, as most did, the distributor would turn that money over to the corporate office. Future billings and payments would be handled centrally. The problem was that most distributors were spending the money instead of setting it aside to cover future bills.  Let me illustrate with some math:

A city of 24,000 might have around 7,000 households, and possibly 2,000 subscriptions. Back then a seven-day subscription was $2.00. So, at the beginning of a 13-week billing period the distributor would have collected $52,000. I don't recall what we charged the distributor per subscription, but let's say that it was $1.00. That means that every week the distributor owed the World-Herald $2,000. Let's say the carriers  made 50¢ per subscription, that another $1,000 a week. So at the end of 13 weeks the distributor will have paid out $39,000 and have a profit of $13,000. 

A smart distributor would put that $52K in the bank where it would earn interest and draw from the account to pay the World-Herald and his carriers. But what was happening was that the $52,000 in the bank was very tempting. Time and time again distributors were using that $52,000 (only $13,000 of which was ultimately his if they were still in the job through the entire 13 weeks) and spending it. I was aware of a couple of people who bought vehicles with that money that wasn't theirs. They would then scramble around to pay their bills and their carriers. They were constantly in a cash flow crisis mode. But it really became a problem when a distributor quit mid-billing period. Let's illustrate with more math:

A distributor quits after week eight of the billing period. Theoretically he should have $20,000 in the bank which represented 2,000 customers who had paid their $2.00/week in advance. This money should have been turned over to the new distributor because it wasn't his! Time after time distributors quit without turning over the advance payments, leaving the new distributors immediately in the hole. A similar issue occurred when we were converting a distributorship over to office billing. An audit would determine how much advance payments a distributor was holding, and they would be billed for that money. If they were properly managing their cash flow there was no problem. The customers would be billed when their subscription expired and the distributor would receive a check for their profit every week. In many cases, they weren't properly managing their cash flow and would abruptly quit when they were billed for thousands of dollars that they had already spent. 

My job for about a year was to go around auditing distributors and carriers on large routes in order to facilitate the conversion to central office billing. As part of this process I was tasked with taking those who owed us money to court. Sometimes it was small claims, sometimes it was district court. The World-Herald did not send a lawyer in with me, although their legal department helped draft papers. 

This was at the same time the most interesting and the most frustrating part of my time with the paper. 

Workin' Man - Part VII - Da Boss

Well, I get up at seven, yeah

And I go to work at nine
I got no time for livin'
Yes, I'm workin' all the time

It seems to me
I could live my life
A lot better than I think I am
I guess that's why they call me
They call me the workin' man

'Cause I get home at five o'clock
And I take myself out an ice cold beer
Always seem to be wondering'
Why there's nothin' goin' down here

I guess that's why they call me
They call me the workin' man

"Workin' Man" - Words & Music by Lee & Lifeson

Getting promoted to Night Manager, a full time, salaried position, enabled me to work just one job. I was able to give up my job at the Omaha World-Herald, leaving an unburnt bridge behind me (which would come in handy later on) At the time, Food 4 Less operated three stores in Lincoln: N 48th & O Sts, S 48th St & Pioneers Blvd and one on Havelock Ave (now a Russ's Market). Shortly before this promotion the owners decided that my store would stay open 24 hours a day. My shift would be 9:00pm - 7:00am, even if we finished stocking the truck earlier; now I had regular hours and a regular paycheck. 

Newly promoted from the ranks, I still thought like a stocker, even though I was responsible not only for getting displays built and the shelves stocked, but since we were open now, for customer service as well. Learning to think like someone who was in charge of the whole store was a mindset that would take time. Scheduling was my biggest headache. We had recently started receiving deliveries from two different warehouses, one which delivered on three days and the other on two different days. The warehouse that delivered on two days brought their load in the late morning, so I needed at least one person to come in and unload those trucks that would be stocked that night - fortunately we had such a large back room that leaving all those pallets in the back was no issue. The nights with no deliveries needed a small crew as well, to run back stock and to face the aisles. I now also had to schedule a cashier every night as well. 

One of the things that I was learning about being a manager, even though it would be many years before I was able to articulate it, is that it's not a manager's job to do things, but to get things done. In other words, you can accomplish more as a manager by leveraging your staff's abilities and getting the most out of them by training them to be effective at their jobs, than you can by simply adding your own labor to the mix. Many managers believe that a "good" manager is one who works alongside the crew, demonstrating that they're one of them. While there are morale-boosting benefits to doing this, it's only part of the job. For example if I'm "working hard" stocking the soup aisle, I have no idea what's going on in the rest of the store. Is the new stocker properly trained? Are there lines up front which require opening up a second cash register? Is there shoplifting going on? Is there broken glass on the floor in the baby food aisle that needs to be swept up? All these things can get missed if the person in charge is concentrating on a small part of the job. 

The store was situated on O Street, the main East-West arterial in Lincoln. Part of the parking lot was oriented so that you could sit in your car and watch the traffic go by, and keep an eye out for your friends as the drove by. We frequently had to go out into the lot and ask people to leave. For these discussions I often took two of my biggest and scariest looking stockers with me in order to emphasize the point! Although the part of town wasn't known as being especially rough, we still used to get trouble makers. Usually getting the entire stock crew lined up behind me dissuaded anyone from causing trouble. There was one night where things escalated before I could get backup and I was beaten up and had to go to the emergency room to get checked out. Around then I started taking Tae Kwon Do lessons after work with Von, one of my stockers. 

At some point I received a promotion to the position of "third man" and worked some shifts during the day. I still ran the stock crew two nights a week, but worked first and second shifts the other three work days. In those days there were fewer departments and therefore fewer managers. There was a store manager, assistant store manager and meat and produce department managers. There was no bakery, deli or floral department. Cashiers were overseen and scheduled by the store manager. There was no customer service counter or back office. The manager in charge of each shift counted out drawers and tallied up the cash and checks at the end of the shift (hardly anyone paid with credit cards). The  "third man" was kind of a fill-in, "gopher", position, responsible for ordering and filling the milk, keeping displays filled and covering for other managers on their days off, as well as working the second shift on occasion. Every Wednesday I substituted for Leonard, the Produce Manager. (it was during one of these Wednesdays that I discovered KZUM radio. I was working in the back room trimming lettuce and stumbled across Eli Rhoades' Jazz Fusion show). 

About halfway through my four-year stint at Food 4 Less I was given a raise and transferred to the store at 48th and Pioneers. The Night Manager at that store was apparently doing a bad job, so I became the Night Manager. That store had not yet switched over to being open 24 hours, so I assumed that I'd be working a similar shift to the one when I first became Night Manager at 48th & O. I assumed incorrectly. I was expected to cover not only the overnight stocking shift, but the second shift, starting at 4:00PM! Of course this schedule motivated me to get the truck stocked as quickly as possible, since any hours past midnight were essentially working for free. At first this was difficult to achieve. I inherited an unnecessarily large crew, many who had restrictions that made scheduling difficult. Two high school kids who couldn't work past midnight and would just leave at 12:00 with their aisles half done; a professional bowler who was only available on Tuesdays when he wasn't bowling; other people who had been promised no weekend shifts; friends of the owner's son...it went on and on. Most of the crew were lazy and slow. My solution was to be a hard-ass.

By "being a hard-ass" I mean strict enforcement of the rules. I got rid of the slackers by writing up and firing people for no-call/no-shows, lateness, insubordination, and anything else I could think of to cull the herd. Little by little the ones who didn't want to do the job either were fired or quit and I was left with a core of people who wanted to be there and were great stockers. Around this time the store was switched to being open 24 hours and I started coming in at 9:00PM instead of 4:00PM; the pressure to get done by midnight went away. One of my top people was Lonnie, who was literally a rocket scientist with several advanced degrees. He was fast and accurate - I could depend on him to get a lot done each night. Lee was a student from New Hampshire who had worked for me at my previous store. Lee's nickname was "Complete Bastard", after one of the characters on The Young Ones. There was Rudy, who at least once a night would run down an aisle and slide on his belly the rest of the way when he was done stocking an aisle. On paper we didn't have enough people to get the job done, but every one of them was head and shoulders above the average stocker. 

Then, as now, holidays were extra busy. One Thanksgiving Eve, when It was still starting at 4:00PM the lines stretched from the check stands to the back of the store. I'll never forget Ron, the Assistant Store Manager at the time, waving goodbye as he walked out in the midst of the chaos, leaving me to handle it. I swore that if I was ever in that position I'd never do that to anyone. 

A situation that I didn't have to deal with at my other store was the friends of the son of the company owner. Jeff was about my age (I was under 30 at the time) and was a partier, as were his friends. On several occasions they would come in late at night and ask me to cash checks for them. Of course, if Jeff was there I'd have to do it, but his buddies would act like the store was their personal bank. I always refused and would predictably get showered with abuse. After I complained to the owner, it stopped. 

Just because I had a great crew doesn't mean that we didn't occasionally get bad ones. We hired a guy named Tom who turned out to be one of the worst stockers I ever managed. After a few weeks Lonnie decided that he couldn't bear calling this guy the same name as me, so he renamed him "Erl". Where he came up with that name I'll never know, but it stuck. One of the things we did when running backstock was to put excess stock on the top of the warehouse shelving. Usually one stocker would stand up top while another would toss cases up to him. Erl frequently would toss boxes straight up only to have them fall back down and hit him in the face. Erl didn't last long. Another substandard stocker, Steve, decided that all of his problems were due to discrimination. I had to talk to him a number of times about working faster and he was catching flack from his coworkers who had to pick up the slack. One day he just didn't show up and we never saw him again. The next thing I knew we were being investigated by the Lincoln Human Rights Commission. Steve was a Native American. It may be hard to believe, but I had no idea that he was Native. Growing up I encountered a lot of different ethnic groups, but rarely Native Americans. So the idea that I was discriminating against him because he was Native American struck me as ridiculous. After the investigation started he stopped in one night to harangue me, calling me a "White Bastard". My crew started calling me "W.B." after that. We ended up being cleared of any wrongdoing. I'll never forget the answer that Lonnie gave the investigator when asked if I had ever demonstrated any prejudice in my dealing: "Nope, Tom just dislikes assholes". 

One notable adventure involved mice. One night while taking a break at the front of the store we noticed a parade of mice marching along the back aisle! Now most people don't realize that any business that sells food is going to have some rodents, but this was an invasion! The store manager started paying a bounty to anyone who could catch a mouse. A few of the stockers made quite a few bucks. 

Even though this wasn't what you'd call a rough neighborhood, we still had people coming in and causing trouble, usually teenagers. I never called the police on them, but chased them out and occasionally "escorted" them out physically. One such teenage boy returned with his father, who turned out to be a police officer. The father threatened and attempted to intimidate me, until one of the meat cutters, a huge man, walked out of the cutting room holding a large knife. That was the end of that.

As I mentioned in previous installments I had a violent streak in my younger days. One afternoon a belligerent customer shoved me during an argument. I grabbed him by the front of the shirt and threw him out (no punching involved). I didn't hear anything the next day, or the day after that, and assumed that nothing would come of it. It was an inventory weekend and on Monday morning I finished up the counting and filled in on a checkstand for an hour, something I normally did since the morning checker didn't come in until 7:00. When I went upstairs to collect my jacket I was fired. When I asked why he waited all weekend to fire me, Lyle, the store manager told me that he didn't have anyone else to run inventory and he needed me to check in the morning!

Since I hadn't burned any bridges after leaving the Omaha World-Herald I went straight to their office and asked for a job. Shannon, the office manager hired me on the spot for a part-time job. I then called Bud Trotter, who ran the floor cleaning service that cleaned and waxed Food 4 Less' floors. He also hired me on the spot. I was back to working two part-time jobs, but due to keeping good relations with a previous job, I was able to start work right away, with no intervening unemployment.

Subjective Truthiness

Many years ago I got into a discussion about faith, how what one chooses to believe regarding a deity is subjective. That is, even if you are certain that your god has delivered this information straight to your brain, or was manifested as some analogue of a five-senses experience, you are the only one who was privy to this particular "revelation". Therefore, it's subjective. Even the conclusion that some people reach that nature, beauty, or the laws of physics are evidence of a creator (which even if true, hardly proves it's your version of a creator) is an opinion about the facts, not a fact in and of itself. You deciding that certain "evidence" is sufficient to convince you, is not in itself proof. An objective experience is one in which anyone could observe. If two people are having a conversation and I overhear it, even if none of the words were directed at me, that conversation has an objective reality. Religious experiences, almost by definition, occur outside of objective reality, in the hazy world of the spiritual realm.  Or they exist as interpretations of mundane events as supernatural, when an ordinary explanation is not only possible, but likely. 

Some religions have attempted to address the lack of objectivity in various ways. In some religions it's the existence of scripture, a "holy" book which they promote as "The Word of God", the standard against which all opinions and subjective experience is supposedly measured. Others invest a "prophet", or other "holy" or "enlightened" individual with the responsibility for determining what Truth is. I'm sure that it's obvious that this isn't a solution at all. The faithful are expected to...well...have faith that the prophets, despite a lack of any objective corroborating evidence, really are getting the straight scoop from the top of the celestial food chain, and not just making it all up. Religions that rely on some version of scripture just shove it all back a few hundred or a few thousand years. They have faith that their books were written by prophets "back in the old days" who, despite a lack of any objective corroborating evidence, got the straight scoop from the top of the celestial food chain, and wrote it all down. And now, since it is written, that makes it Truth. 

What I find interesting is that the two largest religions based on books, Christianity and Islam, took a while to get their books together. (Of course the Jewish scriptures predated them both, with the Christians claiming them as their own) Neither faith had a book in their early years. Muhammed, the founder of Islam, never wrote down any of his "revelations". After his death his successors supposedly gathered the sayings that his followers had written down or remembered, and collected them into what became known as The Quran. Even then there were multiple versions in circulation. One of the early Caliphs solved that problem by rounding up and burning all the unofficial versions. The reason that this was relatively successful was that in the early Muslim decades there was a united political and religious establishment that could make decisions affecting all Islam, and enforce them, unlike the fragmented political and religious situation of early Christianity. Today, religious Muslims assume, even though there's no evidence to support it, that Muhammed received his revelations from God (or through an angel), and further that everyone who provided their memory of what he said did so accurately. Even though there's a supposedly infallible written record, there's no shortage of disagreement among Muslims about the Quran's application.

Christianity also didn't have anything written down for almost a generation after Jesus lived and preached. His teachings and the stories about his life were passed down by word of mouth in the various Christian communities until they started to be written down 20-60 years later. The gospels that we have today were all written anonymously, but claim to have been put together from eyewitnesses. The man we know as The Apostle Paul wrote his letters from a different point of view - he very specifically didn't seek out those from Jesus' inner circle, even though they were presumably still alive, but claimed to get his information straight from God himself. Unlike the Muslims centuries later, the early Christians did not at first have a centralized source of authority. Competing views of what Jesus taught and what he did in his brief career circulated widely. Even when one group came out on top and many gospels and epistles were eliminated from the list of acceptable scriptures, they apparently didn't prune far enough, leaving many contradictions and inconsistencies.  

It's unclear whether Paul or the authors of the Gospels thought that what they were writing was inspired by God, but whoever wrote II Timothy (most biblical scholars agree that it wasn't Paul) apparently thought so, writing in II Timothy 3:16 that "all scripture is given by inspiration of God". The founders of the Protestant Reformation thought so as well, as do their modern day spiritual heirs. In theory they rejected the Catholic apostolic succession doctrine that claimed that there was an unbroken chain of bishops from original apostles to the present day who are uniquely qualified to interpret scripture. In theory they believe that the meaning of the Bible is self evident and doesn't require interpretation, yet there is no shortage of competing interpretations. What many "scripture alone" Christians don't realize is that in the early days of Christianity there was no scripture, and when various competing gospels and epistles began to proliferate, often pseudonymously claiming apostolic authorship, somebody had to decide what was "scripture" and what wasn't. The Bible we have today is a result of somebody making that decision 2000 years ago. 

People who look to a book as their standard often look askance at those who don't, believing that those outside their circle have no standard for morality or Truth. They accuse disbelievers in their book or "making up their own morality". An honest conversation with just about any believer will reveal that, even though they have a written template for living, they have their own view of how their god operates and how that god expects people to conduct themselves that often is at odds with what's in their holy book. What the afterlife looks like is particularly subject to personal opinion. The Bible, as well as mainstream Christian doctrine, indicates that a believer is either ushered into God's presence upon death or "sleeps" until the end time resurrection. There is no "official" description of what that actually looks like, although just about everyone has mental images about heaven, including loved ones "looking down on them", not to mention the popular imagery of harps and angelic wings. Many believers also have ideas about God doing things for them that aren't guaranteed in any book of the Bible, and "know" that God, angels, saints, or departed family have miraculously intervened in some way. 

It's all subjective. 

Everyone, other than those who completely reject all aspects of the supernatural, seems to have an idea of what the supernatural realm is like and how it functions. An idea that cannot be demonstrated objectively. Even those who have a book are ultimately relying on someone else's subjective experience. 

The supernatural world cannot be objectively confirmed to exist. If believing in it helps you sleep at night, please continue to do so. 

Workin' Man - Part VI - More Newspapers and Stocking Shelves

 Well, I get up at seven, yeah

And I go to work at nine

I got no time for livin'

Yes, I'm workin' all the time

It seems to me
I could live my life
A lot better than I think I am
I guess that's why they call me
They call me the workin' man

'Cause I get home at five o'clock
And I take myself out an ice cold beer
Always seem to be wondering'
Why there's nothin' goin' down here

I guess that's why they call me
They call me the workin' man

"Workin' Man" - Words & Music by Lee & Lifeson

Bruce, my father-in-law, worked at an auto parts store on O Street. One of his regular customers was Jeff Schrier, whose family owned some grocery stores in Lincoln. Bruce introduced me to Jeff, who hired me on the spot at Food 4 Less. My first job at Food 4 Less was as a stocker on the night crew. My shift started at 9:00pm and would last until we were done, which varied depending on how big the truck was. Since it was only a part time job I needed to find something else. The Omaha World-Herald Lincoln office had a position called a "bundle hauler". Lincoln was divided up into five or six zones with a driver responsible for delivering papers to the carriers and stores in their assigned area, as well as filling the vending machines. My area was downtown Lincoln, which included the State Office Building and State Capitol, West O Street, and a slice of Lincoln bordered by A and O Streets and 27th Street. I initially started at 2:30am and finished up around 7:00am. Between the two jobs I was working around fifty hours a week. 

At Food 4 Less I started out being assigned to the aisle that contained peanut butter and jelly, ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise and salad dressings. The first thing that we would do after clocking in was "run back stock". Back stock was product that had arrived on a previous day, but could not fit on the shelf. Some of this was items that the manager ordered too much of. These cases were placed on the warehouse shelving immediately above the shelf location. There was also items that we had in large quantity, usually items that had been ordered in bulk or were in the ad. These could be found in pallets in the back room, which we called "the warehouse". When the truck arrived the pallets were unloaded in the warehouse, which unusually for a grocery store, was huge - almost as many square feet as the sales floor itself. Every stocker then went into the back and pulled items from the pallets that corresponded to their assigned aisle. We then "strung them", i.e. set them on the floor in front of the proper section of the aisle. Once this was accomplished it was time to start stocking the items on the shelves. 

Food 4 Less was a "box store", which meant that you cut the top and front off the case and put the box on the shelf, making stocking marginally faster than if indivual units were removed from the cases first. Once all the newly arrived stock was placed on the shelf, it was time for "facing". This involved removing excess cardboard and pulling all the product forward. (I always pulled all the cans or bottles or boxes forward, later in my grocery career the standard of just pulling forward a couple of rows predominated. This made the aisles look full, but on a busy day the shelves quickly became raggedy, with all the remaining stock pushed to the rear of the shelf. On top and bottom shelves there could be plenty of stock, but since only a few items were pulled forward, they looked empty). I usually faced each section as I stocked it, although some stockers started facing after all the stocking was done. (In stores where stockers were timed on how long it took them to stock an aisle, it made sense to face separately, even though the combination of the two tasks took long being done separately) While this was going on the more senior stockers filled displays or built new ones. Once all of this was done the stock crew clocked out and the manager and assistant manager swept the floor and ran a floor scrubbing machine around the store before heading out themselves. 

Unloading trucks at this store could be a dangerous proposition. A ramp connected the floor of the warehouse to a docking station at the level of the floor of a standard trailer just outside the delivery door. We'd remove pallets from the truck with a pallet jack and descended down the ramp, which was at a very steep angle. Gravity quickly took over and often two guys guiding the pallets down to the floor level had to do all they could do to keep the pallet from getting out of control, sliding downhill at high speed. At the bottom of the ramp you had to quickly turn either left or right or crash into a wall. More than once we'd take that turn so fast the whole load would tip over. Since we didn't have any forklifts or powered jacks and sometimes the level of the trailer was slightly lower than the dock, getting a pallet out of the truck required utilized all available muscle. One night we got a pallet of canned goods over the hump and I  ended up running over my foot, cracking a couple of my toes. 

After a few months my assignment was changed to dairy stocker. I liked this a lot better since all of my stock was in one place, rather than spread out among multiple pallets. I could organize the cooler the way I saw fit and eventually they let me do my own ordering. Typically in grocery stores the dairy products arrive from two different sources. One was a dedicated dairy supplier, like Meadow Gold or Roberts, which primarily provided milk, but also sour cream, cottage cheese and dips. The grocery warehouse was the source for everything else: eggs, cheese, margarine, yogurt etc. The night crew stocked what came in on the truck from the warehouse, day crew stocked the milk. 

For around the first two years I also worked a part time job at the Omaha-World-Herald, which meant I had to leave by 2:00pm. I started picking up some extra hours coming in early to run back stock as early as 6:00pm, which meant I was working close to 40 hours a week just at Food 4 Less. 

As I stated earlier, shortly after starting at Food 4 Less I picked up a second job as a bundle hauler for the Omaha World-Herald newspaper. That job started at 2:30am and generally went to around 7:00am. I was assigned BH4 (BH stood for Bundle Haul) which stretched from N 27th Street all the way out to NW 48th Street on West O Street. Our office was in the basement of a strip mall at around 40th & O Streets, but we picked up our papers at a gas station on 9th Street across from the downtown Denny's. One Bundle Hauler was assigned to hand out our assignment sheets, which indicated where we were delivering nd how many papers each stop received. After we unloaded all the papers from the truck we took what we needed for our route and headed out. My first few stops were at the State Office Building and the State Capitol. I especially liked the Capitol, where I delivered to the snack bar on the second floor. It was fun walking through the abandoned hallways and listening to the echoes of my footsteps. My third stop was to a guy named Bob. I viewed him as an "old guy", but in retrospect he was probably younger than I am now. He lived in a ramshackle downtown apartment building - every morning I was supposed to enter his actual apartment and wake him up. I was in mortal fear every night that I'd go in there and Bob would be dead. Looking back, I can hardly believe I agreed to do it! 

Things usually went pretty smoothly. But not always. One morning, after loading all my papers into the car and going through my daily route changes, someone banged aggressively on my window and told me to move my car. Apparently I was in someone's preferred spot. When I told him that I would be a minute he started kicking my car door. When I jumped out to confront him I found myself staring at a handgun pointed at my chest. Despite growing up in New York, this was a new experience for me. Despite being terrified, I put on a show of bravado and asked him what he planned to do with that gun. He lowered the gun and started laughing. We were already almost nose to nose, so it was pretty easy to punch him in the face without having to move any closer. He went down like a felled tree - I didn't wait around to find out if he was conscious before jumping in my car and starting my route. When I got back to the office when I was done Vic, the supervisor was waiting for me, having heard what happened from the rest of the team. I told my story and Quick Draw McGraw was fired. 

Most of the other haulers drove pickup trucks or vans. I drove a Chevette. If you are unfamiliar with Chevettes, they are small cars. There were days, especially Sundays, where I had to pile papers on the hood of the car to get even the downtown stops done. 

Like the grocery store job I started picking up extra hours. To ensure that would be on the clock until 7:00am I would take on "down routes". These were routes that didn't have a carrier and were assigned to Bundle Haulers. There was also a position called "Miss Runner". Customers would call in if, for one reason or another they didn't receive their paper. The Miss Runner would call in periodically to get a list of call-ins, usually working until around noon. Some days I would start at 6pm and work until noon the next day between both jobs. I wasn't getting much sleep but I was paying my bills. This went on until I was promoted to Night Manager at Food 4 Less and was able to quit my job as a bundle hauler.