Funeral for a Friend

I try to keep the posts in this space light, or at least not dark, partly because I think the world is depressing enough already, and partly because if I start taking this blog too seriously it's not going to be fun anymore, for you or me. That said, I'm still going to mark the passing, three weeks ago, of an old friend who could teach most of us a few lessons worth learning, not least of which would be the importance of lateral thinking. Heaven knows, he taught me a few...

Paul Robin was the only MSU graduate I knew well before coming to East Lansing, and in fact had been a graduate of the undergraduate business program here, in the historic (and still elite) hospitality management program, despite never having been admitted to the business school. Paul had simply decided that the classes in the business school interested him, and had "hacked" his way into the program, not in the usual sense of computer intrusion, but in the time-tested method of waiting until just before the deadline to add classes for each semester and then requesting that the instructor add him to the class list. He would then drop the classes he was actually supposed to be in...

When the Administration finally caught up with him they were not pleased to learn that Paul had outwitted the system without resort to any sort of computer chicanery, fraud or perjury -- without actually doing anything wrong, in fact. Paul was most of the way through the degree program by then, so they decided to let him stay, on the condition that he could find a division that would officially enroll him -- which is how he wound up with a degree in Advertising; it seems that the applicable Dean liked his style, or at least his gift for thinking outside the box...

When I think of all of the people I've met who manage to talk themselves out of what they really want to do; who come up with all sorts of rules and regulations, of expectations and propriety and even scruples that will keep them from seeking the path they really want to be on, I can't help thinking of what a shame it is that more people never got to meet my old friend and swap a few tall stories. And, of course, how fortunate I am to have had that chance...

People, listen to me: it's never the reasons why not that matter; it's always the reasons why that are important. As a management scientist and a strategy scholar, I can tell you for a certainty that there will always be reasons why you shouldn't do something, and there will always be ways to make it happen if you really want to -- and if you're willing to try. The most important challenge will always be "How badly do you want it?" and if the answer is "Not badly enough" then the failure is yours, not that of the system. They may just be words on a computer screen, but you'd do well to consider them the next time you have a strategic crisis to think your way out of -- or a life choice to make...

So I'll ask all of you to join me in taking a moment to remember Paul S. Robin, American Businessman, Musician, Inventor, Marksman, Hunter, Net Warrior, Scholar and Philosopher. Here's to you, Paul, wherever you are...

In Memoriam

I can’t think of a business connection to the passing of comedian George Carlin yesterday, but I’m going to write a post about this event anyway and I don’t really care if I’m off-topic or not. Mr. Carlin is one of the people who (unwittingly, perhaps) taught me about humor, about the way people think, about how to set up a good quip (and how to finish it off), and how just about everything in our daily lives is absurd, unnecessary or tragic – and just how funny that really is. I don’t doubt that many other people will have far more elaborate and meaningful things to say about this event, but from where I’m sitting, the world has just become a far less entertaining place – and that is a misfortune all of humanity shares in, whether they realize it or not…

Most people probably had their first encounters with George Carlin when they heard one of his comedy recordings in the 1960s, which is two or three media revolutions ago, depending on how one feels about magnetic tape. Some of these have become part of our popular culture; for example, there are people who have never heard of George Carlin and never listened to spoken-word comedy in their lives who still know the concept of the “Seven Words You Can’t Say on Television” – and can probably recite them if asked. Some of the concepts on their early albums are still just as funny today, such as a hippy weatherman, or a Native-American drill sergeant carrying on just the way a U.S. Army D.I would. And some, like “Baseball and Football” will remain relevant – and funny – for as long as either game is being played anywhere in the world…

What most people probably fail to realize is how few comedians manage to remain not just funny but also relevant for that length of time. The same material once purchased on long-playing 33 rpm records (and later on CD) is now being downloaded off the Internet for use on MP3 players by the grandchildren of people who were listening to Mr. Carlin in his early years. Meanwhile, many of his more recent concerts are being downloaded and viewed as video files and podcasts using the same technology, and it seems probable that much of his work will remain popular for decades to come…

As a student of both history and literature, I can tell you that very little comedy survives its own era – and by that I mean the 30 years or so that the primary audience remains interested in hearing it. The majority of all humor is topical, and generally does not make it out of the same decade in which it was written, let along remain popular four decades later. That we still find humor in the writings of Mark Twain or H.L. Mencken 100 years later is a testament to the brilliance of such writers – and I strongly suspect that 100 years from now, Mr. Carlin will be included on the list of American Humorists the authors wish were still around and writing…

So as you go about your business today, try not to take things quite as seriously. Remember that the fact that life is tragic doesn’t mean that it isn’t also funny, and that in the theater of the absurd in which we live, it is up to all of us to find the parts worth laughing about. And join me in saying, with the greatest fondness and the highest respect, thank you, Mr. Carlin, for making this journey a little more entertaining. Here’s to you, wherever you are…