Chapter Fifty-Two
Walk of Life
Six months later things had gotten back to normal at Woodland Enterprises. When we realized that Woodland was a combination of Copeland and Elwood, we decided to change the name. Elwood and Copeland were names we all would like to forget as soon as possible.
The trial was rather speedy. Given our testimony, Chuck’s recording and the accusations that Dusty and Rich threw at each other from the stand, the convictions were slam dunks. In typical Shareholder style, Rich tried to fabricate a tale about the whole thing being an executive training exercise. Calling the Judge a “backward backwoods stupid rube” on multiple occasions did not help his case. Rich got twenty-five years in a Federal prison which should put him on ice until he needs diapers. Rumor has it that he has already structured a pyramid scheme based on cigarettes and illegal cell phones in the joint. Dusty got five years given that the prosecutors let her win the race to sell out. I think it had a little to do with Rich being a bigger fish and a lot to do with Dusty’s low cut prison jumpsuit. Prior to the end of the trial, she inked a deal with a late night cable channel to star in a continuing new series Lipstick Lovelies in Lock-up. So much for her not wanting to make her way in life based solely on her looks. In what I think is a judicial first, Dusty negotiated an additional five years onto her sentence conditional on the longevity of the series. I know that I will watch it.
Elwood disappeared. I heard an unconfirmed ridiculous rumor (I guess if it was confirmed, it wouldn’t be a ridiculous rumor) that he had Lasik surgery, gained weight, gained height, joined the PGA tour and changed his name to Jason Dufner. I really didn’t believe a word of it. I could put Jay on his tail, but why bother at this point?
I did something I thought I would never find myself doing. I took Holly to the Biltmore Estate for a romantic weekend and proposed. Facing death from duct tape, bullets and/or booms all in one night (not to mention Doris’s meatloaf), makes one reprioritize one’s priorities. In an even bigger surprise, she said yes and we set a date for early next year.
We never breathed a word of Earl’s true reason for coming through that window. Will championed him as a hero to the entire community. They threw a big parade. Thank God they didn’t let him give a speech!
I bought Bread a year’s supply of dog biscuits and let him come over to sleep with me once a week. That will probably need to stop, oh, sometime early next year.
Victoria finally retired. Many tears were shed at the plant. Will retired shortly after that. When they are not doing the doting thing over grandbaby Boase, they are keeping themselves busy as salsa instructors on Caribbean cruises. Who knew?
Doris managed to convince one of those traveling TV cooking programs to visit her place for a live show and she became a U-Tube sensation. Her meatloaf has been registered as a lethal weapon.
Diddy retired and became a consultant with Homeland Security. I know I sleep better at night knowing that he is sleeping better at night (and day).
Brother Jagger is looking into the possibility of moving down here and running for Will’s open position. That would be a hoot!
Mom and Dad are doing as well as can be expected at their age. They are slowing a bit physically, but going strong as ever mentally. Dad offered this advice when I told him I was considering proposing, “Mick, in golf I always say to trust your muscle memory. It won’t let you down and your shots will go right where you intend. In love, follow your heart memory. It will guide you to where you not only want, but need, to be.”
Mom and Dad are pretty cool. Their advice still keeps me going. I thought about the differing stories they told me about how they met. At the time, I remember thinking how most people are true to the big picture of their lives but fudge the details a bit. As I thought about our MBAs, I realized they were just the opposite. They were very careful to get the details right but the big picture was a total falsehood.
Has the moral of my tale got to do with the evils of higher education? Do we educate our best and our brightest to be narcissistic greedy money grabbers? Should we examine the curriculum in our schools to ensure that care for the common good is engrained as strongly as return on investment? Are MBAs a bad thing just because recent headlines have depicted more than a few of them almost destroying the world’s financial systems during the mortgage meltdown or ripping off wealthy and not so wealthy folks with devious pyramid schemes? I don’t know. I’m just a night schooled average Joe from Ohio trying to make a decent living and pursue happiness without climbing over the bodies of others. I try not to judge.
I would summarize what I learned from my experiences more like this: While we need to take care to watch out for each other, we need to really take care to watch out for each other. It may sound like an Earlism, but if you get the inflections right, I think you’ll understand.
Epilogue
The End
As the first snow flew, I found myself again in Chuck’s office discussing our new staff recruiting season.
“Well, Mick, I think we will leave all the financials in Earl’s capable hands. As you know, we were able to reach a very agreeable settlement with The Shareholder so we now own Woodland, or whatever it will be called, lock stock and barrel.”
“I guess we have to call him The Shareholder again since he certainly is no longer ‘Rich.’”
“Or maybe we should call him ‘Bunk Muffin.’”
“Charles, I’m glad we can still laugh about this after all the stuff we’ve been through. Anyway, with the commotion of the trial and all, I never did hear quite how you pulled that settlement deal off.”
“Between you and me, it was one of Will’s last acts as sheriff. He was able to pull a few strings with the Feds he met through Jay. He let The Shareholder meet his prospective cellmates. It was a choice between Big Daddy Pile Driver who was serving twenty-five to thirty for smuggling farm animals across state lines for personal enjoyment, if you get my drift, or Myron who was charged with tax fraud. The choice was up to Will and highly contingent on my satisfaction with the financial deal The Shareholder offered.”
“So I take it The Shareholder is getting his taxes done for free now.”
“You take it right.”
“I also take it we have learned our lesson after the third time. We will not be letting any more MBAs wreak havoc here.”
“Not in my lifetime. However, I am thinking that we could use some top notch young marketing talent.”
Stay tuned for my next saga, Marketing Involves Lying Ferociously a.k.a. MILF.
Acknowledgements
The author would like to thank his top notch editors, Anita Sitter and Holly Blackwell. Without them there would be misspelled words, missing words, more nonsense than intended and general mayhem. Many thanks also go out to CoversByKaren for the excellent book cover design and to the cover photographer at lodrkon Dreamstime.com
A special shout out to all my friends that encouraged this effort and may be thinly disguised therein. I would be remiss if I didn’t thank the living, barely living and not so living classic rock artists whose work shaped my formative years and greatly contributed to ever increasing loss of hearing.
Finally, to my wife, the aforementioned Holly, a very special thank you for rocking my world for the past 30 plus years.
About the Author
Jeff Blackwell is a retired financial professional who worked many fun filled hours for one of the world’s largest companies. He lives in Texas with his beautiful wife, Holly, and two crazed Chihuahuas, Rudolph and Valentino. He enjoys golf, playing cards, classic rock (duh), and hanging out with his friends. He does not hold an MBA degree.
You can contct Jeff at [email protected]
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