Why You're Not Worth Minimum Wage!

Have you ever walked through a shopping mall and thought to yourself; how do the small kiosks make a profit? My wife and I were recently in Dallas for a real estate convention and had the afternoon off, so we took a ride to a local mall. As we strolled through the mall, I couldn’t help noticing that every one of the small kiosk vendors were to busy, with their nose stuck into their cell phone, to address anyone walking past. One of my favorite comments I make to clerks to generate conversation is; “are they working you hard”? I stopped at one of the kiosks and looked over what they had to offer as the clerk paid no attention to my wife and me and I asked them; are they working you hard? To my surprise, they looked up from their phone, rolled their eyes and said; for what they pay me here, I’m not going to work hard and returned to their phone. They obviously knew I wasn’t interested in the product they were peddling and now the question comes to mind; why are they being paid minimum wage? I hear all the crying coming from our elected representatives, minimum wage should be increased to $15.00 per hour.  For our elected officials, it’s an open checkbook to pay their staff but for small business, it’s watching every penny to make a profit. I am all for getting rid of the minimum wage system and bringing out an incentive pay system. If a sales clerk wants a raise, sell something, make a presentation even if nobody is watching. We have all heard the question when at a fast, (convenient), food establishment; would you like fries with that or would you like to up-size? What would happen if there was a meeting before every shift and the manager advised the crew of a minimum goal and once they achieved that goal, everyone would make a percentage of the profit; would that be enough incentive to get them motivated to actually sell something or connect with potential customers? Some will say; you can do that with sales, but you can’t do that with office staff, and I would disagree. You can measure the number of calls, accuracy of paperwork and the overall profitability of the business.

To the surprise of many workers of the future, you will be fired because the current minimum wage you are being paid is far more than your worth as an employee. I foresee a bleak future for many college educated minimum wage people, you might actually have to put your phone down and go to work. Here’s a line taken from one of my favorite professional speakers, Larry Winget, “It’s called work for a reason”.

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Three words you can use for the Perfect Hire

Possibly, one of the biggest challenges business owners face is hiring new personnel. It doesn’t matter what industry, we all face the same challenge. What about that employee from the past, who seemed to be the perfect hire, only to become a huge disappointment and leave your business in worse condition before they were hired. Then there are the hires who show up and then it goes downhill from there, all they do is show up. One of the best lessons I learned for hiring personnel was at a time I was serving as a project superintendent for a large medical clinic. It was from the general contractor who hired me, showed me how to find that person who would show up and be willing to do whatever needed to be done. I was perplexed at what he showed me and put what he taught me into action and it worked immediately. I had hired and fired a lot of people and crews from the project for many different reasons and it all came down to my lack of interviewing skills. My deadline for the building completion was bearing down on me and I had to hire people and crews who would understand the pressure we were under to complete the project on time. We were running advertisements in several surrounding towns and received many phone calls asking about the project with promises to show up for an interview, only to be disappointed with the skill I learned from the general contractor. I needed carpenters, plumbers, roofers, painters, and general laborers and the skill I learned from the general contractor made it possible for me to hire the right people and we finished the project ahead of schedule. You are probably asking what the secret was to hire the right people and it was just three words that made all the difference; push that broom. Many of those who came to interview only offered one skill, the only thing they were willing to do, and they believed that was all they should do. The look on their faces as we walked around the project and walked into and area covered with saw dust or sheet rock debris and I called a laborer over with a broom in hand and offered the broom to whom I was interviewing, handing them the broom; show me how you push a broom. I was told many times; that’s not what I do or I’m not going to do that. It was the people who had primary skills who took the broom from my hand and cleaned the area were the people I hired. What they showed me was, they were willing to do anything to get the job done and they were hired with the understanding that if called upon them to do something different, they were willing to be a team player. Push that broom, three little words that speak volumes of someone’s character.

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What I Learned in Prison

The first thing I noticed before entering prison was the tall chain linked fence with rows of razor wire at the top and along the base of the fence. The first sounds of prison that resonated in my memory was the buzzing for the magnetic release on the steel door, the creaking of the rusty hinges and the clashing sound of steel on steel as the door slams shut behind me. As I lay my carried items on a bench to be x-rayed, I turned and walked through a metal detector, and awaiting me on the other side was a guard who direct me to extend my arms and spread my legs. I felt the guard’s hands run up and down my legs and arms, across my back and sides and down my chest and stomach area. As I processed in, they photographed me, assigned a number and tagged me, scanned my hand for recognition and then directed to another door. Beyond the door was another steel door, another buzzer and squeaking hinges and then another steel door beyond that one, with a buzz the release of the magnetic latch, the door is pushed open and I walked into prison, as the steel door slammed behind me. As I walked through the area, it was as if every convict’s eyes were upon me, some greeted me as others just stared. As I opened the door to the reception area, I was greeted with a smile, a handshake and welcomed. By now, you must understand, I was not convicted of a crime, I was there to teach inmates the art of networking. Of the 1300 plus inmates incarcerated in the prison, I had thirty men who had signed up to attend my eight-secession course. The inmates had been screened by the prison staff and only these select few would be able to participate. What I quickly learned was these men were hungry for knowledge and wanted to learn networking skills they could use in and out of prison. What they quickly learned from me is I held them accountable for their assignments, which many others had not. Several men dropped out of the course after giving them an assignment, they failed to do it and part of that assignment was to write a draft and present it in front of the men. When I called upon them, they said they hadn’t done the homework and I told them; you’re still going to present. They quickly learned accountability was tough and too difficult for them. What I learned in prison was similarities with the inmates. Most of them were from homes with a drug or alcohol addicted parent, had been abused and many had been part of social services and most of them did not have a strong male influence in their life. Without a strong family life, many fled to the streets to find a bond. Many of you reading this will say; they knew the difference between right and wrong, and they would agree with you. But given that most of them were in survival mode, they did what they felt necessary to do to survive.

For some of the men who attended my course, they will be getting released within a few months or a few years and some will be in prison for the rest of their life, and they will have gained networking skills and the ability to determine personalities and know how speak and understand others. As I leave the prison, there is the buzz of the magnetic lock and the squeaking hinges and the slam of steel on steel. As I walk through the last gate into the darkness of the prison parking lot, I think to myself; these men will have better networking skills than most of our population. When they are released from prison, they will be in survival mode with speaking skills.

To learn more about my Networking workshop, visit my website

What our Country Needs is a Real Catastrophe

What our country needs is a good catastrophe. As I drive around our community, walk through airports and witness our community pay attention only to their individual wants and desires, what we really need is a catastrophe that will effect two thirds of our country. Yes, it is a brutal thought, watching people die, right in front of you. The inability to think beyond your personal wants and have to think about your survival. I can’t wait to see when our electrical grid go down and the majority of the population goes into a panic mode when their screen’s no longer function. When they actually have to depend on face to face communications or maybe have to actually talk with someone without an attitude in their voice, just to survive. How will they react when there is no power and when they have not planned for the future, let alone the next day? The smell of rotting corpse and watching the people you love, die right in front of your eyes. Yes, what our country needs is a good catastrophe, a wake up call, of what is really important in everyday life. If you have difficulty figuring out what is really important, you will become a causality of the coming catastrophe. The Grid will go down and there will be many across our nation, watch the demise of the lifestyle of our country. It’s coming and the majority of our population is to busy listening to Pandora, watching a video on Netflix or texting some mindless communication to a friend. What will you do, it’s coming, the grid will go down and we will be able to watch 25% of our population die, right in front of our eyes. Are you prepared for the grid to go down? It’s coming… When you can no longer make a call, a text, an email, or go to an ATM to withdraw cash from an account that can’t be accessed, we get to watch you suffer. How long can you go without your phone, debit card or electricity? If you don’t have enough available cash to buy food, gas or medical care.. you will become a victim of lack of planning. It’s coming, when you least expect it, will you be able to survive weeks without electricity? When your phone has become worthless, when being online means nothing because the internet no longer exists for your area and you get to watch people you care about, die right in front of you; what will life mean to you? I’m prepared, are you? The only thing I request; do not knock on my door and expect me to assist you with your survival. We have planned, we know it’s coming and I can’t wait to watch the change for the better, from those who actually make the sacrifice to survive.

After reading this, do you question yourself if you are ready for a catastrophe? Will you become a victim from your lack of preparation? How will you feel, watching those you care about, die right before your eyes? What our country needs is a real catastrophe so you will realize what is really important in life.   

The Boy In the Box

My Troop Commander looked at me and asked; why I had failed the Master Gunner course? I had to look him in the eye and let him know I failed the presentation portion of the program, (It’s kind of amusing to me right now as I’m a Professional Speaker of the National Speakers Association). The blame was totally on me, I tried to take on the task, solely upon myself, (everyone else in my group had previously failed out of the course). We were headed to gunnery and I advised the Captain, I had all the technical expertise to assist our Cavalry Troop during gunnery and would take the position of Troop Master Gunner to make sure our troopers would do well. He knew I had been through combat and told me; I’m relying on you Staff Sergeant! We’ll do well sir, that’s a I promise intend to keep to you sir! He dismissed me and now I had made a promise that I intended to keep, not only for me, but I had to prove myself that I had the expertise to assist other soldiers in their gunnery skills. As I walked into out squad room, I was introduced to a new soldier who would be on my Bradley. He had served in Korea during “Operation Desert Storm” and missed the opportunity for combat experience. He had served with a unit I had served with and immediately, I felt an attraction to him from his experience. I counseled him about what my expectations were and what he needed to do to gain rank and become the gunner to my track. He was a tall lanky kid from Texas and I really liked him. Over the next few weeks in preparing for gunnery, I asked him to join me in the simulator in preparing him for the gunners’ position. I t happened to be at 0200 hours on a Saturday morning, he arrived on time, in uniform and was a quick learner, I really liked this kid. He worked his butt off in the motor pool getting out Bradley Fighting Vehicle ready for field training and gunnery. 

It was a September Saturday that I watched the local news report about a local airport that was victimized and an aircraft was about to be stolen and got stuck in the mud on a taxiway, before making a turn onto the main runway. I paid no attention and went on enjoying the weekend with my wife.

Field training against other units was a fun opportunity to test our skills and we had several test during a 12 day Field training Exercise. The next weekend was getting our vehicles ready for gunnery and we were about to have a four day weekend over the Halloween weekend. Tuesday morning came and my soldier was missing and I reported him missing during the morning report. I asked his roommates if they had seen him and they responded they had not seen him since the previous Friday. Wednesday came and he was AWOL, Thursday came and I again reported him missing and it was time to cut the lock on his wall locker and make inventory of his possessions. Going through his possessions, I had to make accountability and came across items that only a pilot would need. I reported all the items to the First Sergeant and Commander and several days later, a local detective stopped by our Troop and asked me questions about the items I had reported during his inventory inspection. One of the items had been reported stolen from an aircraft several week before and they were investigating a stolen plane on Halloween from a local airport. I had no idea of a stolen plane and I called my crew to speak with the detective about what they knew. My driver had been invited by him, on Halloween, to fly with him to Texas over the weekend so he could confront a guy who had made a move on his girl. He had refused and that was the last he had heard of him. We deployed to gunnery several days later and I had to train a new gunner and the competition was high with my track and the commander. Our track had out shot the other tracks during the practice runs and the Troop Commander was calling me out and intended to out gun me. The sights on my track went down and I had to use my sister track for qualification and we maxed it! The commander called me to the tower to congratulate my crew for kicking his butt on the range and we were rewarded the opportunity to hit the rack and sleep in the following morning.

0600 hours, my Platoon Sergeant woke me up and said I needed to report to the Commander and First Sergeant, right now, so much for sleeping in. When I walked into the tower, my Platoon Leader, Platoon Sergeant, first Sergeant and Commander were waiting for me. My first thought, they would find that I didn’t make top gun and they were going to accuse me of cheating, especially since the Troop Commander was in the left lane. To my surprise, they had found my lost soldier. He had stolen a plane on Halloween and attempted to take-off in a deep fog. He had rose to altitude and made a sharp right turn over our military training area, didn’t watch his altimeter and winged into a training area, crashed and burned. They asked me to deliver his remains to his parents in Texas and get all the appropriate paper worked signed. He was my soldier, after all, and I felt it my duty to represent him. My duties was to inspect the remains, place his uniform over his remains and attend to the funeral arraignments.  During the inspection, the once six foot two man was now an elastic wrapped glob of unidentifiable, non-human recognizable four foot burnt figure. I laid the uniform over the figure and coordinated with the funeral director to pick me up at my home in the morning and deliver the remains and me to the Kansas City, airport. The airline saw what I was doing and placed me in first class for my flight to Texas. The Texas funeral director soon met me and secured the remains as I acquired a rental car. That evening, I arrived an hour early, prior to the viewing of the flag draped coffin to get all my paperwork squared away. The family arrived and I gave the family a good hour before I briefed them on the paperwork and tell them of my soldier. How do you look into the eyes of a mother and tell her, her son really screwed up? I described her son’s military bearing and my experience with his training. The next day was the funeral service and I had to make sure the casket was properly delivered into the earth and covered to US Army specifications. One of my soldier’s nephews approached me, as the coffin was being lowered into the grave liner, and asked me more about the Army. I told him to look at the coffin as it was being lowered into the grave. I pointed to the coffin; that’s what happens from making the wrong decisions. Learn from his mistakes and walk away from the final covering, it wasn’t something he needed to witness. I shook his hand and watched the lid on the liner be lowered into place and covered with the good Texas earth.

I often think back to his mother and how she must have felt with her first view of the flag draped coffin and her boy in the box, she would never see again. All she had was memories and when she asked of his uniform, I told her it was with him. The boy in the box was my soldier. I don’t know what more I could have done to have prevented him from stealing a plane and crashing to a fiery death. I often think of him, the 5/17 Cavalry coin he gave me. The boy in the box, one of my kids that I lost, not to combat but to everyday life and the girl far away.  

Frog in the Pool

Sunday morning, we relished the few extra minutes we slept in before our morning walk, and soon to relax with our coffee, sitting alongside the pool. As we walked to our table, I noticed a frog in the pool. Nothing unusual about a frog in the pool, we find them in the skimmer basket all the time. This time, watching the frog struggle, I thought how it reminded me of many people out there who are struggling from decisions they made. I can only imagine how the frog felt as it hopped onto the warm pool deck and followed the coolness of the water as it drifted over the pools edge, as the frog peered down into the clear cool water. It imagined to itself how good it would feel to beat the heat of the Florida summer and leaped into the water. Swimming around the cool water, having the one of the best feelings it had felt in many days. How refreshing it was for the frog to escape the Florida heat. After a while, the frog began to tire from all the swimming and it was time to get out of the water but it had not thought of how it was going to get out of the pool before it leaped in. There are no steps, only ladders to get out of the pool and the toad frog didn’t know how to climb ladders. There are no sloping sides for the frog to grasp hold of and the frog struggled along the smooth sides of the pool. Several times the frog backed away from the side, tried to get a running start, slamming itself to the side of the pool, and failing to achieve its goal of escaping the water. After a while of watching the frog struggle, I decided to help the frog out of the pool with the skimmer net. I scooped the frog from the water and as I adjusted myself to release the frog into the yard, it jumped off the skimmer onto the pool deck and leaped back into the pool. I re-evaluated my plan, I opened the screen door to the pool cage, changed the angle of my approach to the frog, lifted it out of the water once again, and quickly moved the skimmer net, with the frog, to the open door and released it into the yard.

Why tell this story and how does it remind me of people? There are so many people who never plan for their future, they only think of their, “Right Now”, feelings. They never evaluate their total situation and fail to develop an escape or future plan. Many people often trap themselves in jobs or lifestyles they can’t see their way out of. They often fail to accept the help from others and when helped, often leap back into the same situation they had escaped.

The moral of the story; look before you leap, have an escape plan and when in trouble, accept the help from others who appear to have an organized plan.

What Does it Feel Like

January fifteenth, 1991, has been burned into my memory. It was the day the mission changed from “Desert Shield” to “Desert Storm” and the Middle East was forever changed.  

I sat on the front line, starring across the berm which separated Iraq from Saudi Arabia to watch the first strikes from coalition aircraft and the far away flashes from strikes and explosions. The world was attacking Iraq, they had been warned and yet they chose to hold their ground in Kuwait and defend their decision.  As I stared out from my armored vehicle, I thought to myself, what it might be like for those who were receiving the bombing. The soldiers had not made a decision to invade a sovereign nation, they were only following orders from their commanders and to now follow orders would have meant a quick and painful death. What did it feel like for them to watch their fellow soldiers be blown apart within their armored vehicles and other vehicles around them take a hit as they waited for their turn to receive steel on steel. What did it feel like for the commanders, watching from afar as they listened to the terrifying radio messages coming from the field and then silence? This day was just the beginning of future horrors to come as the steel rain poured down upon them. Civilian men being grabbed off the street and bused to the front lines without shoes or weapons only to receive limited support as the coalition forces hammered their supply lines and positions with the constant rain of steel.

 Their casualties were heavy, ours were few except for the sights, sounds and the smell of war that will forever be burned into the memories of those who served. Twenty-six years ago, the world went to war in the Middle East and it is now more dangerous than ever. What did we prove, beating a population over a brutal dictator’s decision? Our nation points fingers at countries and decry the lack of human rights but what has the world done to the Middle East because of our choice to stand up for a wealthy nation who chose not to defend itself?

Desert Storm is just a faint memory for many and the younger generation has no recollection of the great leaders who orchestrated the operation. We, as a nation, have created the “Hell on Earth” in the Middle East. We won the battles, we can stand proud because we completed the task of eviction only to lose the war on human rights by creating a cancer now eating away the personal securities we once had. So what does it feel like…?