The Wastebroker Blog

Madeline Neumann - RIP

Sometimes you hear something that sounds so ridiculous that you think it must be made up, that it just couldn't be real.  And then you're proven wrong. 

The latest one of these to hit my sensibilities in the face is the tragic death of an 11 year old girl named Madeline Neumann from Weston, WI.  In case you haven't heard, Madeline died last week due to untreated complications related to her diabetes.  Ordinarily, while Madeline's death would be sad, it would be nothing shocking in and of itself I suppose.  After all, sometimes kids get sick and, despite the very best efforts of their parents and their doctors, they die. 

In Madeline's case, though, there is a twist.  Her parents, Dale and Leilana, didn't know she had diabetes.  Neither did Madeline or anyone else for that matter.  She hadn't been to see a doctor since she was three years old and, when she began to exhibit signs of being sick several weeks ago (nausea, weakness, etc.), her parents made no effort to get Madeline any medical attention.  In fact they repeatedly rejected efforts from their family to get Madeline to a doctor.

What they did do is read the Bible and pray. Really hard, they claim.  The Neumann's, you see, subscribe to the belief that all healing comes from God and that, if God doesn't deliver the healing (like for instance in the case of their daughter) than it must be His will that she die. 

I have no issue with the Neumann's faith although I clearly take issue with the way they define it to make what they did somehow seem spiritual. And I dismiss their attempt to rationalize their own idiocy by masking it in a cloak of faith.  And, further, how dare they put their daughter's death on God's shoulders.  They, Dale and Leilana, own that responsibility.  Faith is not a one way street, we have to have some faith in ourselves as intelligent beings, able to make intelligent decisions, don't we?  The fact that their daughter is now dead, dead from "complications" that only became complications due to their inaction and, has nothing to do with their faith.  It has only to do with their selfishness. 

Madeline's death is getting a lot of attention throughout the world because of the faith card her parents are playing.  Only, there shouldn't be a story.  She should be alive! Things should be very ordinary for her;  an 11 year old girl looking forward to Spring and her twelfth birthday party.  Regardless of faith, as parents, the Neumann's, like all parents, have the responsibility to make decisions that protect, not endanger, their children.  After all, if God has created us in his likeness, shouldn't He have that faith in us?  The Neumann's chose not to accept that responsibility.  That was a dumb choice.  I have complete faith in that.

Spitzer's the Emperor With No Clothes

Just to put any speculation to rest, I can assure you that I am not Client # 10.  As you are no doubt aware, Eliot Spitzer, the Governor of New York (at least at the time of this writing) is, allegedly, Client # 9 caught on a phone line being tapped by the IRS making $4300 payment arrangements with a certain lady of the night from the escort service, Emperor’s Club VIP, while his bride and the mother of his children was busy buying the story of the important meeting that would preclude Mr. Spitzer from sharing his Valentine with her.  Wasn’t it the IRS whose investigation put the squeeze on Brian McNamee and now Roger Clemens as well (those tax return audits must not excite like they once did)?  There is a # 10 out there though and I’m sure he’s (I’m making an assumption here but are there any male prostitution rings?) quite worried that he’ll be the next chap doing the “I need to earn back my family’s trust” mea culpa.   

The press says that Wall Streeters are popping the Dom Perignon and pulling out the really dusty bottles from their wine cellars to celebrate Eliot’s fall from grace.  And why not.  As they say, what comes around goes around and Mr. Spitzer was / has been (and might be again) a first-class pr**k to a lot of people, aggressively bullying people not accustom to being bullied, people who surrounded themselves with people who would never think to make them answer for things that most people might call, oh I don’t know … stealing.  Spitzer was born smart enough to match wits with the big boys and rich enough not to care about anything but “what was right.”  But, it turns out, that like most pontificators of truth, justice and, well, you get the point, Mr. Spitzer may have just been shouting loud enough to drown out his own demons, those annoying indiscretions that he knows better than to engage in but that he just can’t help himself avoid. 

Mr. Spitzer’s lawyers are doing cartwheels and triple sow cows to convince the justice department that he should not be charged with a crime.  It’s only fair, they’re saying, since the government has never made a habit out of trying “johns” in prostitution matters.  Amazing how the arguments on his behalf seem so strikingly similar to those of Dick Strong, Dick Grasso, Maurice Greenberg and the other corporate executive prey Mr. Spitzer hunted.  “This isn’t fair, we did nothing wrong and, even if we did, it’s never been considered a crime before.”  Mr. Spitzer flatly rejected their “wimpy” fairness arguments and threw them back in their face.  Now that he may find himself in the defendant’s chair, he, like they, instinctively resorts to relying on what’s “fair.”  We’ll see how that works for him. 

Mr. Spitzer’s placed himself in a situation that examples just how dangerous it is to put yourself on a pedestal that’s supported by your own fragile limitations.

Kwame Text - A Lesson in Communication

We continue to learn that communication, like a diamond, is forever and Kwame Kilpatrick, the mayor of Detroit, is only the latest (that we know about) high-profile philanderer to “discover” that, regardless of technological advances (and the occasional lie - 'I did not have textual relations with that woman'), it’s still nearly impossible to cover your tracks.  As our world has evolved, our modes of communication have evolved as well.  Where once we could only communicate solely by word of mouth, we have since applied to communication the power of scalability, enabling us with multiple means (phone, fax, e mail, IM, text, internet and, for the moment at least, newspapers to name just a few)  as well as exponentially expanding our prospective audience.  Where once we chiseled pictures and words on rocks and tablets, by which someone would have to walk (and interpret correctly) to “read,” we can now broadcast a message to an audience of one or one million with less effort than it took to pick up the chisel.  We still, however, share an important bond with our ancient rock cartoonist mates.  We call that bond permanency. 

You see we haven’t yet found a way to easily get rid of our records.  In fact, and as Mr. Kilpatrick is now keenly aware, it’s become much harder.  Where once we could crush the rock or burn the letter (not to mention simply killing the messenger), today we are literally powerless to control how our communications are contained, maintained or sustained (thought that might add a political speech-like flavor).   And, like leaving your fingerprints, sweat, saliva or any other bodily fluid at the scene of the crime, there is always a record of where we’ve been and what we said.  We may have gotten rid of the paper, but we most definitely have yet to get rid of the trail.  Like water that evaporates from a boiling pan, it may appear to be gone but it’s really only been transformed, stored in a cloud that, coincidently, looks a lot like those drawings IT folks make to represent the internet, and will, eventually, come back to us as rain, sometimes acid rain.

I remember being advised some time ago that I should visualize everything I say or do as being displayed on a billboard by which my mom drives every day on her way to church and ask myself, would she be proud?  That example, while still strong in meaning is, of course, no longer germane in reality since technology can now bring the billboard right into mom’s house through a wire or through waves in the sky.  Mom doesn’t even need to leave the house. 

And neither, of course, do Mr. Kilpatrick’s wife, family, friends, associates and constituents (as well as the entire population of the web-enabled world) who, thanks to his presumably mistaken assumption (or arrogance) about the traceability of the text world, now know more about him, his chief of staff and their "agenda" than they certainly needed or wanted to know.

My advice, no matter how horny, vindictive or illegally inclined you may be, if you're using a computer, or anything that acts like a computer (which means almost everything now), resist the urge for the speed of Type/Send and instead favor this Type, Read, Affirm (that you wouldn't mind your mom (or spouse) reading this - unless she's your partner in crime, in which case this is a bad example), then, finally, Publish (Send).  Oh, and by the way, did you get my text?

iPhone to The Rescue

Just before Christmas, I was at the AT&T (formerly Cingular) cellular phone store with my wife and kids because we were interested in getting Jamy an iPhone to replace the flip phone she’s probably had since back when I still had hair.  She’d been hinting for some time (OK more aggressively than hinting) that she’d really like to upgrade her present wireless wonder and, being the perceptive genius I am, I figured that an iPhone might be just the ticket.   Like a trooper, she had “lived with” this flip phone, even though it would not accept a charge from her minivan’s cigarette lighter nor was it, apparently, very handy for providing the reception quality she desired (and needed) to actually have a conversation.   To top it off, when she was successful in making a call, the receiver’s caller ID would identify her as a certain “Chuck Wunsch”, the name of the guy who had originally had the phone which, as you can imagine, made me a real star in her eyes.

This was my chance to shine I thought.  All Jamy wanted was a new, Wunsch-less phone that she could actually use and maybe take a picture with.  It was me who, seeking redemption for years of subjecting her to cell phone inadequacy (on top of my many other inadequacies …….. and no, thank you, not that one - yet) figured an I-Phone, with its e mail, photo, internet, text, color, I-Pod and other capabilities, was a get out of jail card for me and, for her, a welcome to the real  world of wireless that had here-to-for been just beyond her grasp. 

And, I’m happy to report, it worked. Although you should know (and maybe you already do) that you can’t get an iPhone at a AT&T formerly Cingular store (you have to go to a non formerly Cingular AT&T store (or an Apple store), that there is no discount for the phone although you can pretty much get any other phone you desire for free if you sign up for a plan for which they must wildly overcharge you and, finally, that there are literally no directions included with the iPhone.  Fortunately, though, the check-out lines at Barnes & Noble prominently display several iPhone tell all books that, as I’ve learned, offer all kinds of valuable instruction for the paltry sum of $19.95 (less 30% with your “Members” discount).

I have to admit that the iPhone’s been a hit and probably earned me a couple of much needed points for which I somehow feel obligated to thank Steve Jobs.  In addition to freeing Jamy from Mr. Wunsch, her wireless alter ego, it’s also enabled her to make calls that connect (and stay connected), check her e mail, take pictures of our dog and, whenever it strikes her fancy (or my daughters for that matter), give me the temperature in Honolulu.  Do you think that’s a hint as well?

Sean Penn "Soaks In?" Hugo Chavez

Normally, when my wisdom gets the best of me, I stay away from political discussions because, like any discussion based more often than not on emotion rather than reason, they just don't go anywhere.  But every so often, I see something that drives me so crazy that I succumb to my own emotions and ooze myself into the slime of "unreasonable" discourse.  So here it goes. 

Last Monday, I'm minding my own business by my locker at the gym, getting dressed to go home.  A guest host for Bill O'Reilly is on the TV in my locker row talking about Sean Penn's recent visit to Venezuela far a meet and greet with their wanna be dictator, Hugu (that's Ugo) Chavez.  Seems Mr. Penn is rather impressed by the work Mr. Chavez is orchestrating in his quest to build what he refers to as "21st Century Socialism" which, if actions speak louder than words, is defined as unlawful property seizures, censuring (or "re-defining" to be kind) free speech and "modifying" his country's constitution to engender himself a "be in charge" card for life.

All of this topped off like whipped cream on pumpkin pie by a big spoonful of "Bush is the Devil" rhetoric and that's, apparently, the bait that hooks Mr. Penn and the like.

Mr. Penn is critical of many US government policies and, it's safe to say, President Bush as well.  That is, as an American, of course his right.  As an American, Mr. Penn no doubt enjoys and covets the freedoms bestowed upon him, the freedom to do the work he pleases, own the property he buys and say what it is that's on his mind.  If only the citizen's of Venezuela had it so good.  In fairness to Mr. Penn, he smartly had little to say during his trip, choosing instead to maintain that he was visiting the country only as a journalist to 'see things for himself and sort of take it all in.  For Mr. Chavez, like most big talkers with little minds, would have none of that.  Way too scary to leave to chance just what Penn might say with his, um, pen.  Like any dictator in training worth his salt, Mr. Chavez paraded Mr. Penn around his country in the company of soldiers, no doubt orchestrating and controlling who and what Mr. Penn could see and hear.  Chavez even spoke for Mr. Penn describing him as "a man who is critical of his government and of imperialism" (he' no doubt redefined imperialism to exclude himself).

It's pretty clear that Mr. Chavez is systematically and actively trying to engage any and all well known American Bush Haters like Mr. Penn, Danny Glover and Cindy Sheehan for a visit and photo op in an attempt to add some global legitimacy to his Tony Soprano like ambitions.  No doubt that a visit from Alec Baldwin is forthcoming, after the whole calling his 11 year old daughter "a little bitch" phone message thing blows over (Mr. Chavez is needy but not stupid after all).

I'm 100% certain that Mr. Chavez will fail in his quest to become the supreme leader of 21st Century Socialism for two reasons.  First, socialism is a fundamentally flawed system that, in order to be successful, must appeal to the "have nots" at the expense of the "haves".  Were Mr. Chavez Mother Theresa, he may have a shot at this.  Second, like any dictator attempting to drape himself in the veil of socialism, Mr. Chavez will, himself, become his own worst enemy, lining his pockets while lying to his "people".  And like nearly every dictator (or wanna be) in recent history, Mr. Chavez will either end up with a bullet in his head or on the run constantly looking over his shoulder for the end of his life.

And as for Mr. Penn, I hope he writes a great article on his Chavez experience.  But I also long for the good old days, a time when I like to think Mr. Penn was most in his element, as Jeff Spicoli in Fast Times at Ridgemont High.  It was in this role that Mr. Penn professed, "What Jefferson was saying was, Hey! You know, we left this England place 'cause it was bogus; so if we don't get some cool rules ourselves - pronto - we'll just be bogus too! Get it?   Got it.  Mr Chavez, any questions?

Stock Option Back Dating Fiasco Ramps Up

Last Thursday, the Government ramped up the pressure on the stock option backdating fiasco by indicting three former Brocade executives, including former CEO Gregory Reyes.  While these indictments are the first related to this issue, more than 80 companies are currently under investigation.  Speaking to The Wall Street Journal recently, SEC Chairman Christopher Cox warned that "the full weight of the federal government is being put behind this effort to stamp out fraudulent stock option backdating." (WSJ 7/21/06)  This is likely taking the "relaxing" edge off many Hampton's vacationers.

There is no question that back dating stock options is wrong.  Like betting on a horse race that's already been run, it makes the option grant risk free and guaranteed.  Oh, and let's not forget, it's also stealing.  Like taking money from the cookie jar a little bit at a time, for a long time nobody notices.  But when you're finally caught with the cash in your hand and your fingerprints on the bowl, your caught.

But its easy to see why the practice and acceptance of option back dating appears to have been wide spread.   I imagine 'inside' these companies it was kind of like our little secret.  Only, apparently, everyone knew.  That is except shareholders, who weren't part of the club.  It was only their money.  I expect to hear the usual excuses - my boss, the board, the accountants, the auditors - they all knew about and endorsed the practice.  Keep in mind how well that worked for Kozlowski and Ebbers.  Not so much.

Anyway, the government's on this one now and anyone who's been involved in granting, receiving, spending or in any other way touching a backdated stock option has my permission now to be very worried and, of course, apologetic.  My guess is that a lot of butt cheeks are quite clenched these days and the forthcoming mayhem of companies, lawyers and executives tripping over each other to admit their "mistakes", restate their "earnings" and offer their sacrificial lambs for slaughter will look a lot like the desperation seen during the racing of the bulls, "please don't hurt me!"  And in the background will surely be the politicians, eager to condemn this sort of behavior and enact some new Sarbanes like legislation to punish the evil doers.

Are these backdaters crooks? Fact is that backdating is wrong and it's stealing.  But I can understand why it apparently became so rampant.  After all, when "everybody's doing it" it seems, well, perfectly OK.  Speeding, smoking some weed, hiding a little income from the IRS - these are wrong?

The other day I was watching the movie True Romance on HBO and, in the movie, James Gandolfini plays a hit man.  While he's preparing to kill Patricia Arquette, he tells her how hard it was to kill someone the first time, "I threw up - can you believe that?" he says.  The second time was still hard, but a little easier.  By the third time, he tells her, it was Fun!  'Nuff said

By the way, has your lawyer ever had you back date a document?  Just curious!

Enjoy the Day!  Mike