It's Not Luck - Eliyahu M. Goldratt [5]
“So, what should I write here?” I ask.
“I think that what you wrote is good enough. The party will be over before twelve. So what’s the problem? It’s about time you understood that I have grown up.”
“Yes, Sharon, I realize it. But for me, in order to have a good family life, I must ensure that you are safe.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she says, “I understand that.”
“That’s why I want you home before ten.”
“But don’t you realize . . .”
“I do realize, but let’s stop arguing about ten or twelve. That’s not the real issue. The real issues are your safety and your need to be accepted by your friends. So why don’t we examine the assumptions that lead us to believe that ten o’clock is vital for your safety and twelve is vital for your acceptance.”
“I don’t see why coming home late has anything to do with my safety,” she starts to argue.
“Don’t you?”
“No. I’m sure that one of the guys will give us a ride.”
“Oh? Since when are sophomores driving?”
That stops her for a moment. “Daddy, could you give us a ride?” Sharon hesitantly asks.
“Who are these sophomore kids?” I start to question her. When I realize that the sophomores are all from Dave’s high school, I relax. This is a good school, good kids. And it’s no hassle to bring her back. I don’t see any safety issue.
“So you agree? Thank you, Daddy, I knew you’d understand.” Sharon jumps up and down, on me, and then on the phone. “I’m going to call Debbie. Now her father will allow her to come, too.”
Laughing, I rush downstairs to turn on the oven.
I finish updating Julie about the board meeting.
“It doesn’t look too good,” she says.
“Nope,” I agree. “I’m captured in a real cloud. My objective is to maintain my job. For that I must comply with the board’s resolution, which means that I have to collaborate with the selling of my companies.”
“But on the other hand,” Julie continues, “in order to maintain your job, the job must be there, which means you must do everything to stop the sale of your companies.”
“Exactly.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet. Probably sail with the wind for a while, at least until the situation becomes somewhat clearer,” I say, in a not-too-confident voice.
Julie switches to the sofa near me. “Honey,” she brushes my cheek, “you know what happens when you let bad situations naturally develop.”
Yes, I know. Left to themselves, things go from bad to worse.
I put my arm around her, “We can always live off your income,” I try to avoid the issue.
“Fine with me, but would you be happy about that?”
I kiss her. “You are right. I can’t rely on Granby alone. And there is no point in waiting for developments. I’ll have to find a way to influence them in the right direction.”
3
“This is a bad idea,” I try to shout at Don.
I guess, by reading his lips, that he says, “What?”
It’s useless. These huge printing presses are worse than Dave’s stereo. Monstrous, almost frightening, and the speeds the paper is serpentining through them is disturbing. Look at it for more than a minute or two and you become seasick. At least me. Besides, if you’ve seen one, unless you are a printing press freak, you’ve seen them all.
I grab Don, my assistant, with one hand, Pete, the president of this printing company, with the other, and head for the nearest exit. Out here, where shouts can be heard, I explain to Pete that when I said I wanted to see his operations, I didn’t mean his beloved machines. They will always look the same to me.
“So, what do you want to see?” Pete asks.
“The finished goods warehouse, for example.”
“But there is nothing to see there,” he says. “Haven’t you read my reports?”
“That’s exactly what I want to see with my own eyes,” I reply.
The warehouse is three times as big as the rest of the complex, and twice as tall. The first time I was here, a week after I became the EVP of the diversified group, it was jampacked with all sorts of printed stuff. The first thing that I did was to cancel their appropriation request for another warehouse. Then I went through