Layoff

Bear with me, I'm re-evaluating my situation.

The Week in Review: 9/28-10/3

Mark your calenders folks this has been one hell of a week. Buffet bailed out GE, Palin and Biden squared off and the House flaked out on the American public.

Warren Buffet bets on GE.

The Oracle of Omaha pumps $3bn into GE. 10% guaranteed return, option to purchase additional shares at $22.50: proof once again that the man is a genius. Take it from me, I know genius.

Vice Presidential Debate proves what we've always known.

Thursday night's debate failed to produce the sparks we all wanted to see. Palin sounded as good as she looked and Biden didn't muff things up per usual. All in all it was quite boring. Dancing with the Stars boring.

Bailout gets hung up in the uterus that is the U.S House of Representatives.

Thankfully the Senate manned up and passed the bailout package, thus ensuring Wall Street and the gears of our economy continue to effortlessly spin our great country into the 21st century. Naysayers may balk at the $110 billion in additions, but they know nothing of child archery and importing rum. Leave the money management to the grown ups people.

Ross' Rules: Communication

While it is rare that I communicate directly with those who serve me, there are those circumstances in which communication through proxy will not suffice. In such extreme instances direct communique is vital. However, while many make the mistake of engaging in open vis a vis dialog with their charges I find communicating via electronic mail (or e-mail) the most pain-free and direct.

I love e-mail. I love it for its ruthless efficiency. More so, I love it for its ambiguity, because while Shakspeare and Rand were capable of injecting pathos into their writing, those of us in the business world know that emotion has no place in communication. And there is no better way to put the fear of God into one's staff than through the dissemination of an emotionless and pointed e-mail who's tone is open for interpretation. After all, a little paranoia goes a long, long way.

Reader Questions

Mr. Ross...

I am anxiously awaiting the vice presidential debate. Are you?


K.L


No.

G. Glen Ross

Things that I can afford that the middle class cannot: classic auto racing

While the middle class clings to the manufactured drama of NASCAR and manifests their dreams of glory on the rural dirt tracks that dot the landscapes of this great country I and my well heeled friends participate in a racing series held on private tracks that replicate only the most famous of courses. From the letter below you'll see we have grand times and Grand Prixs.

Mr. Ross

I very much appreciate your participation in my 6th annual Classic Champions Grand Prix. I'm sorry that turn 11 was so detrimental to your 1958 Ferrari Testa Rossa. Should your mechanics require any assistance, my staff would be honored to provide their wisdom. After all, two of my mechanics worked on the team with which your car won the 24 hours of Le Mans in 1958. It is truly a wonderful car with a rich history.

When I was designing my personal Grand Prix race course with Alain Prost and Michael Schumacher, Michael and I decided the first 15 turns on my personal Grand Prix road course should be modeled after the first 15 turns on the Nurburgring. Of course, just like the Nurburgring and turn 11 always catches those that come in like my mistress: a little too hot. Had you been able to hold on until the Circuit de la Sarthe section (obviously influenced by Mr. Prost) everyone would have certainly seen you and your Ferrari perform with the grace and style of Barishnikov.

I'm looking forward to seeing you at the 7th annual Classic Champions Grand Prix! Once again the entry requirements for the marquee event of the weekend will require an automobile of Italian, German, British, or French heritage from between 1950 and 1965 and, as always, the automobile must have been driven to a first place finish in a Grand Prix event during that time span. Now, should you wish to leave the Ferrari at home and try your hand at something different, I am currently designing a Rally Car course with World Rally Car champions Sebastien Loeb and Tommi Maakinen. It should prove to be a great time of dirty fun, just like YOUR mistress!

Your friend,

F. Bertignolli

Reader Questions

A Miss Jacobsen asks:

I would truly like to know about the music you enjoy. Please be specific; artists as well as favorite songs. Your answers will determine any future correspondence.

Thank you for your question, Ms. Jacobsen, one's choice in music reflects much of their character - though I must say I do not appreciate the "or else" overtones which punctuate your inquiry.

Asking me who my favorite artists are is like asking me to choose my favorite sailboat or luxury automobile - impossible. For you see every moment has its soundtrack.

Would I chose Jimmy Buffet while reading the latest Financial Times? No, but put me on the deck of my 1952 43' Abeking and Rasmussen Yawl and you'll find yourself one happy Son of a Sailor. Though nothing gets me ready for a little corporate warfare like Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet. I find the strings to be inspiring. No doubt you would agree.

Other artists worthy of my affection include The Chairman of the Board and his rousing Luck be a Lady (among many, many others), Phil Collin's, In the Air Tonight and anything that comes from the mouths of Bruce Springsteen or Billy Joel.

Sincerely,
G. Glen Ross

Things I can afford that the middle class cannot: rare books

Among the benefits of being me (and there are many) perhaps one of the nicest is my ability to purchase and enjoy rare books. Not that I expect the middle class to understand the enjoyment of thumbing through a first edition Dickens. And far be it from me to suggest that those simple fools could comprehend the subtleties of Tolstoy or the sardonic wit of Swift. After all, such intelligence and grace are surely lost on those who consider Patterson compelling literature.

Of course being a man of importance, rarely can I secret away the time to get lost in Middle Earth. And while the Walmartians of suburbia plug in their Walkmans to listen to the latest scourge to spill from the pedestrian mind of Grisham, I am able to enjoy my favorite tomes as read by my favorite actors. I wonder, have you ever heard the Iliad as interpreted by James Earl Jones? Or Huckleberry Finn dramatically read by Al Pacino? Of course you have not, because I, and I alone, commissioned them to read those masterpieces for my personal enjoyment. In fact, every book I own is accompanied by a dramatic reading by some of our time's most regarded thespians.

And that my friends - to quote my gardener - don't come cheap.

The Week in Review: 9/7-9/12

Brilliant capitalist auctions off virginity to pay for college

22 year-old Natalie Dylan is auctioning off her virginity to pay for her Master's program. Though judging by her looks I'd put the chances of her being a virgin about as high as the chances of me eating at Applebee's. Just my opinion, but any woman this bright deserves to get top dollar for her offer. Well, any woman this attractive does.

Large Hadron Collider goes live. World doesn't end.

Wednesday September 10th was a day for the Chicken Little's of the world to wet their collective pants as the infamous Large Hadron Collider was turned on. For those of you wondering, yes we are still here. Black holes have not consumed our precious planet. Though I'd take one for the team if that meant no more evangelicals and environmental wackos. Relax, it's just science people.

More empty rhetoric from the nation's presumptive first-celebrity.

While Obama espouses the virtues of equal pay for equal work, his campaign still recognizes that in fact there is a reality. Records show that he believes fair only goes so far. On average his male staffers make $54,397 while his female staffers only make $45,152. Though when you think about it, you really shouldn't fault the guy for paying those with the more important jobs higher salaries.

Things I can afford that the middle class cannot: wine collections

Many of you reading this will be surprised when I tell you that there are those we firmly believe that good wine comes in a box. Hilarious, I know. I'll give you a moment to wipe up the '74 Charles Krug Vintage Select Cabernet Sauvignon that you just spit all over your ascot. Good thing it only costs $88 a bottle.

For some the very idea of wine as an investment is laughable. Of course, such an opinion is to be expected from those who also find the idea of spending $15 on a bottle of white zinfandel to be an exercise in lavish spending. To them I say stick to your Boone's Farm (little more than flavored vinegar in my opinion).

Though it is no shock that the pallets of the middle class - dulled by years of Big Macs and Diet Cokes - cannot appreciate the subtle delicacies of such fine beverages. Lacking both the hedonic perception and vocabulary to identify and put into words the myriad of tastes trickling down their oversized gullets should come as no great shock. Such people view life in black and white, good and bad. They will never appreciate the spicy blackberry and robust personality of a fine syrah or the warm buttery embrace of a delicately balanced chardonnay.

After all, for these people their opinions are as confused as the wines they drink.

My primary wine collection (I have one at each residence) consists of over 20,000 bottles and is valued at over four million dollars. My cellar is 10,000 square feet and is done in the style of a subterranean Italian grotto - complete with a gourmet kitchen for the occasions when I decided to entertain in the tasting room. I have in my employ a personal sommelier by the name of Reg. The only Frenchman I have ever tolerated or respected, he works in concert with my chef to ensure that every meal is accompanied by the perfect wine. Not once has he erred in his job. As well he shouldn't at a salary of $150,000 per year - but a small price to pay for the joy his knowledge brings me.

The middle class you can keep their baseball cards and comic books; their Precious Moments dolls and Thomas Kincaid posters. For those objects worthy of collection are reserved for us, the men of privilege and power.

The Week in Review and Things I can afford that the middle class cannot.

Too often we who live above the masses tend to discount the responsibilities we have in keeping them informed and enlightened. My fellow readers, for the last few months I have forsaken this responsibility and for that I am apologetic. A reader recently commented that he found my recent posts to be uninspired and inconsistent. He is right.

So what do you say we get back on track with a double dose of that which you love so much?


The Week in Review

Sarah Who?

Last week my favorite maverick rocked the political world by nominating the little known Governor of Alaska , Sarah Palin as his running mate. Decried by many as proof that he is out of touch, she proved to be the spark that this campaign desperately needed. Turns you can be a cutthroat pit bull and well-liked. But only if you are attractive. Sorry Hillary.

Dow Takes a Constitutional


Why sugar coat what happened to the market this week? I literally lost a boat load of money - a beautiful 1940 Cris Craft Custom Runabout wad of cash.


Putin Blames the U.S for Georgian Conflict

To paraphrase the former Russian president and former head of the KGB or FSB or whatever gestapo secret police they've got over there, the US deliberately provoked Georgia into attacking South Ossetia to create a competitive advantage for one of the candidates running for president of that country.

If you don't understand that argument either I don't blame you. Clearly blending fantasy and reality is a feat hard to achieve.


Things I can afford that the middle class cannot.

They say one cannot collect an original Rembrandt painting these days. In fact, they say one cannot even collect a Rembrandt drawing unless they are a multi-millionaire. Obviously they don't know G. Glen Ross.

I do own a Rembrandt painting - a nude. Mrs. Ross wanted one so I bought it for her. It was the eighth most expensive financial transaction I've ever partaken in. She hung it in her dressing room and then she rewarded me by raising my McCane. It was all quite nice.

See, the thing is we wealthy appreciate great art for what it gives back to the world. Some may say it is obscene to spend so much on little dabs of paint. They might suggest picking up a reproduction or a poster. But what they don't know, what few outside of the art world know is that the true meaning of the artist's intentions can only be found in the original piece of work.

I know, I know, to the middle class to speak of art in such a way sounds so unexpectedly womanly, but should we really expect open minded, cultured thinking from a group of people who's favorite piece of literature is the weekly Auto Trader? I mean, the only beauty these people are capable of seeing is a framed Walmart reproduction of Unicorns prancing through La-La Land with naked little nymphs frolicking in pixie powder. And even that they can barely afford.

Ross' Rules: Don't be the team. Lead the team.

Too often we feel the need to work with others. And far too often we mistakenly think such group collaboration will lead to group success. Well if you believe that crap I've got a mail room and a helmet with your name on it.

Insight: collaboration is how the weak and lazy get ahead.

I don't care what you learned in kindergarten or summer camp: cooperative and collaborative environments area the domains of the subservient and submissive. They are the pasture of a million corporate sheep. Unless your goal is to be an anonymous cog in the wheels of progress you must eschew the group and distinguish yourself through outstanding individual effort. Only then will you grow into the type of man your father would be proud of.

In fact, there is only one time when it is even remotely acceptable to be a member of a work team - when you are its leader. In that case you are a devilishly intelligent, hyper-efficient corporate warrior savvy to the ways of success. For your keen business brain knows that - while it may be the group who does the work - it is the leader who gets the credit.

Remember that my corporate warriors.

Reader Questions

What are your feelings on corporate gifts, what sort of gifts does your company deem appropriate for celebration of corporate longevity?

Ah yes, the ever wonderful corporate gift. What are my feelings on them?

First, by now you should know that I don't have feelings. I have opinions, thoughts, insights, instincts and beliefs, but certainly don't suffer from feelings. So, my friend, the question should be: what do I think of them?

In brief, they're wastes of money. To reward people for longevity makes it appear that we should be grateful for that which we should not be. The fact is these people should be buying us gifts for employing them that long. Do they not realize that their leaving allows me to bring in some entry-level cog at a quarter of the cost? Do they not realize that their bloated salaries are a drain on the company's bottom line? To reward such people with gold watches and monogrammed ball point pens is nonsense.

That being said, I find stock options to be the only suitable gift. Of course, when you reach my level of executive management other perks are justified, if not expected. Lifetime health insurance, significant cash bonuses, use of corporate transportation to name a few.

G. Glen Ross

Reader Observations: I'm not real

Recently, some drunken idiot posted a comment proclaiming that I am not real. To that individual I say, rubbish. I am in fact very real, very rich, very handsome, very powerful and very intelligent.

And though I feel no obligation to prove to you my existence, I will do so. Why? Because shedding some light on my life will hopefully make that individual feel that much worse about their own.

Now if you'll excuse me...

I have more homes in my real estate portfolio than the number of double wides in the shoddy little trailer park in which you surely reside.

Not only do I own a fleet of vintage sail boats, I also posses a large collection of Mont Blanc pens. Do they use pens down at the auto parts store where you work? Or do they make you use pencils so you can erase all your mistakes?

My wife loves me because I am rich and powerful. Yours probably loves you because you make her feel good about herself. Though that doesn't change the fact that my wife is the definition of beauty and yours is fat.

Like you, I enjoy red meat. If I didn't know better, I'd say you're a vegetarian. After all, how else can one explain the pissy attitude and transparent envy? Now I know Walmart doesn't stock Kobe Beef, but the next time your scratch lotto tickets pay out I recommend you visit your local fine dining establishment (Outback doesn't count) and order yourself a nice steak.

If I'm not real, who is? I apologize for spewing such heady existential thought. I should have made sure you were wearing a helmet first. I'll simplify, I'm real because I say I am.

Enjoy your day, from what I hear Busch Light is always on sale.

Ross' Rules: Don't get caught

While enjoying a "Half and Half" after a spirited game of tennis last week, a friend of mine and I found ourselves discussing John Edwards and the stupidity of man. That one man single-handily brought marital infidelity back to the forefront of public consciousness is disgusting and unacceptable. In one act he took what was once a common and socially acceptable arrangement between man and his mistress and turned it into a white elephant. In short, he put at risk the very right that we men of wealth are entitled to.

In spirit of his colossal screw up, I am going to post the (until now) previously unwritten rules of extramarital physical and social engagement.

1. Your mistress is your near-equal. Never, ever engage in relations with a woman whose social status falls more than two positions below yours. A woman with nothing to lose and everything to gain is dangerous.

2. Put the relationship on hiatus when the wife is ill. Anything else just makes you look bad. Should your wife pass, end the relationship immediately lest your mistress think she has a chance of becoming your wife.

3. Be discreet, but not secretive. Your wife is not as stupid as you give her credit for. The two of you need to come to an agreement regarding your extracurricular activities. Allow her shopping trips and occasional pool boy dalliances. You may find this openness refreshing.

4. If caught, don't deny, lie. Unless she has proof, you haven't done anything. If she does, remind her you have done nothing wrong. If she still presses the issue remind her of the prenuptial agreement.

Recommended Viewing

For those of you who still dont't get it.

http://www.archive.org/details/OfficeEt1950

Reader Question: Party Etiquette

Mr. Ross...

A good friend of mine is having that lowest common denominator of parties: the BBQ. I've been invited and asked to bring of all things, a 7 layer bean dip. I care greatly for the man, but given my elevated status in the community, I feel that I might run the risk of being perceived as common or even middle-class. Am I being paranoid, is he trying to make me look bad?

What is your advice on the matter?

Sincerely,

(Name redacted)


Dear Paranoid-

While at first glance it might appear that your "friend" is setting you up to look like an ass, my sense is that, in fact, you are being a tad too sensitive. I get the impression that you would not recognize irony if it slapped you in the face. Often, we wealthy enjoy throwing theme parties and while most of the time the thematics skew towards the cultural or prescient, occasionally we will inject a little good natured and light hearted humor into our soirees.

Your friend's party is nothing more that one man embracing this concept to the extreme. More than likely taking this most simple and middle classed of traditions and turning it on its head. In fact, don't be surprised if his "common" menu consists of a few well-disguised delicacies. As for your 7-layer bean dip, run down to your local gourmet deli and ask them to mix you up something special- perhaps something that will go with organic pita chips.

Here's a tip, to really enjoy the party I suggest you and your wife create middle class alter egos and attend in character. Have your assistant run to JC Penny and pick up a couple of outfits (obviously he or she will know what to look for better than you) and reinvent yourselves as a common, suburban couple. To really go over the top, rent a mini-van. Make sure all conversations are centered around such simple topics as your kids' soccer league, the frustrations of public schools, gas prices, your struggle to bay the bills, the success of your bowling team, and of course, the saviour of the middle class: Barack Obama.

G. Glen Ross

Ross' Rules: talent's got nothing to do with it

Recently an employee of mine asked me why she was passed over for promotion. She pointed out that she was the most accomplished and talented candidate while the individual who received the promotion was primarily known for his good looks and entertaining stories.

So why didn't she receive the promotion?

Because not even her vast amount of talent and sheer number of accomplishments could overcome her predilection for being the most dour, unlikable and yes, hideously plain looking woman this company has hired since the passing of affirmative action legislation.

Yes, she maybe highly intelligent. Her mind for spin is amongst the most adept I've ever witnessed (save for my own) and her business sense clearly makes up for an obvious lack of smell. However, no one can stand being around the woman. She has neither the personality, fashion sense, ego or sycophantic tendencies needed to go beyond her current station. Simply put, she has no identifiable promotable qualities.

Life is not fair my friends. Talent and hard work may breed success, but if your looks and personality can't marry into the family, your ass and career are going nowhere.

Things I can afford that the middle class cannot

As Mrs. Ross likes to joke, "my wallet makes my butt look big." That's why I seldom carry it. Sure, I like the feel of the supple calf skin (get them before they can stand to ensure the leather doesn't get stretched), but I very well can't have people thinking I don't stay in shape. Nor do I care for unsightly creases in my custom tailored slacks.

So what do I do?

I could eliminate the wallet and simply carry large sums of cash or my American Express card.

But I don't.

Make no mistake, I could do both. But therein lies the problem- a man of true wealth and power shouldn't have to concern himself with everyday business transactions. There is nothing more annoying that having to wait as some out-of-work actor struggles through the basic math needed to make change on a $8.00 cup of coffee paid for with a hundred dollar bill. Nor do I car for the incessant "oohing" and "ahhing" that erupts the moment I pull out my Amex card. Granted it's not everyday one sees a Black American Express card, but come on, at least act like it.

No my friends, the truly wealthy cannot be bothered with such trivialities. That's why we have expense accounts, for there is no better way to streamline a transaction that by putting it on one's expense account- no limit, of course. So while the rest of the world saves receipts and fondles dollar bills that were surely once damp wadded up balls in a beggar's pocket, we rich simply flick our Mont Blancs and with the flash of a signature the transaction is complete. No receipts, no bacteria, no dealing with people any longer than necessary.

Just a simple pen and the bank account to back it up.

Ross' Rules: you can't take it with you

We Rosses have been known to spend a few dollars here and there. Summer villas on Lake Como, silk toilet paper, Tiffany cuff links...is it our fault for liking the finer things in life? Should we be consumed by overwhelming guilt by such freewheeling spending habits? Seeing as we are neither catholic or poor, guilt is a concept as foreign as the population of a 7-11 parking lot. For you see, what is the point of having more money than you can spend if you can't spend it?

Being a Yale man I hardly put much stock in anything that comes from the bloated egos over at Harvard. However, they have hit upon an interesting idea: that virtue is a vice. According to their research, consumers who base their purchase decisions on short-term regret tend to make more practical purchases whereas consumers who focus on long-term regret make more extravagant purchases.

From the Harvard Business Review:

People who unduly resist self-indulgence suffer from an excessive farsightedness, or hyperopia—the reverse of typical self-control problems. Rather than yielding to temptation, they focus on acquiring necessities and acting responsibly and they see indulgence as wasteful, irresponsible, and even immoral. As a result, these consumers avoid precisely the products and experiences that they most enjoy.

Now I know that many out there have no choice in the matter, but to willingly deprive one's self of that which brings them joy borders on masochistic and unreasonable. Especially so when one has the means to spend at will.

So the next time you are trying to justify your next extravagance remember that short-term regret is temporary and that guilt and luxury sleep in separate bedrooms.

Happy Birthday America

As I prepare for the upcoming holiday and the luxurious indulgences I am about to partake in, I am forced to reflect on the brave young men and women who ensure that this great country celebrates many more birthdays. I applaud you all for your commitment, dedication and sacrifice.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you. You too, Col. Broadmoor.

Reader question: If I don't need people why do I have a blog?

Normally, I make it a rule to not answer stupid questions, but seeing that this question obviously came from the unformed mind of a child, I'll grace you with an answer. For your sake, I'll keep it simple.

First, this is not a blog. It is a series of columns published electronically.

Second, I don't need people, they need me.

Third, next time you think about asking a question ask yourself if thinking is something you should really be doing.

Fourth, ignore your parents when they tell you you can do anything you want- they're liars.

Fifth, thanks for reading- I hope it didn't take you too long.

Things I can afford that the middle class cannot: absolution

Newton proved that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. In human interaction one can take this to mean that for every negative action there is an equally negative reaction. He was wrong. For my actions are impervious to negative reactions. Whether they be from jealous subordinates, ex-wives, spiteful step-children or flea infested beggars, the bitter epithets spit from the mouths of the weak mean nothing to me.

I've been called many things in my life. Most of the time they're complimentary - great, intelligent, hard-working, savvy, handsome, humble, asshole- but on rare occasions they're not. I've been called a jerk, an arrogant buffoon, a pompous blowhard, an insufferable git, and a dad. However, such insults don't bother me.

Why not?

Because when you are as rich and powerful as I, you don't need anyone. And if you don't need people it doesn't really matter what the hell they think. Therefore, G. Glen Ross does whatever the hell he pleases.

Ross' Rules: Harness the power of the speakerphone

If by some fluke of chance or grave importance you are able to reach me at my office when I am either a) available or b) between secretaries, you'll quickly realize that you are on speakerphone. Immediately you will wonder who else is in the room and your tone and confidence will adjust accordingly, and without so much as a word, you will have submitted to my power and authority.

Call any man of power and he will put you on speaker. In fact, the only time we "go personal" is when speaking to our mistresses, friends, people of greater authority and delinquent teenage sons or daughters who are calling from military school. Wives, other children and individuals of equal or lesser authority will always be placed on speaker.

Why? Because one must always know their place.

Ross' Rules: Listen to the CIA

God bless the Central Intelligence Agency. For those of you who think the organization has no merits, I suggest you read the following. Many good lessons for the aspiring executive. Pay close attention to sections c and d as they pertain to general office staff and what they might do to subvert your or the company's authority.

From the Office of Strategic Services' (predecessor to the CIA) Simple Sabotage Field Manual

(11) General Interference with Organisations and Production

(a) Organizations and Conferences

(1) Insist on doing everything through "channels." Never permit short-cuts to be taken in order to expedite decisions.
(2) Make "speeches." Talk as frequently as possible and at great length. Illustrate your "points" by long anecdotes and accounts of personal experiences. Never hesitate to make a few appropriate "patriotic" comments.
(3) When possible, refer all matters to committees, for "further study and consideration." Attempt to make the committees as large as possible — never less than five.
(4) Bring up irrelevant issues as frequently as possible.
(5) Haggle over precise wordings of communications, minutes, resolutions.
(6) Refer back to matters decided upon at the last meeting and attempt to re-open the question of the advisability of that decision.
(7) Advocate "caution." Be "reasonable" and urge your fellow-conferees to be "reasonable" and avoid haste which might result in embarrassments or difficulties later on.
(8) Be worried about the propriety of any decision — raise the question of whether such action as is contemplated lies within the jurisdiction of the group or whether it might conflict with the policy of some higher echelon.

(b) Managers and Supervisors

(1) Demand written orders.
(2) "Misunderstand" orders. Ask endless questions or engage in long correspondence about such orders. Quibble over them when you can.
(3;) Do everything possible to delay the delivery of orders. Even though parts of an order may be ready beforehand, don't deliver it until it is completely ready.
(4) Don't order new working materials until your current stocks have been virtually exhausted, so that the slightest delay in filling your order will mean a shutdown.
(5) Order high-quality materials which are hard to get. If you don't get them argue about it. Warn that inferior materials will mean inferior work.
(6) In making work assignments, always sign out the unimportant jobs first. See that the important jobs are assigned to inefficient workers of poor machines.
(7) Insist on perfect work in relatively unimportant products; send back for refinishing those which have the least flaw. Approve other defective parts whose flaws are not visible to the naked eye.
(8) Make mistakes in routing so that parts and materials will be sent to the wrong place in the plant.
(9) When training new workers, give incomplete or misleading instructions.
(10) To lower morale and with it, production, be pleasant to inefficient workers; give them undeserved promotions. Discriminate against efficient workers; complain unjustly about their work.
(jj.) Hold conferences when there is more critical work to be done.
(12) Multiply paper work in plausible ways. Start duplicate files.
(13) Multiply the procedures and clearances involved in issuing instructions, pay checks, and so on. See that three people have to approve everything where one would do.
(14) Apply all regulations to the last letter.

(c) Office Workers

(1) Make mistakes in quantities of material
when you are copying orders. Confuse similar names. Use wrong addresses.
(2) Prolong correspondence with government bureaus.
(3) Misfile essential documents.
(4) In making carbon copies, make one too few, so that an extra copying job will have to be done.
(5) Tell important callers the boss is busy or talking on another telephone.
(6) Hold up mail until the next collection.
(7) Spread disturbing rumors that sound like inside dope.

(d) Employees

(1) Work slowly. Think out ways to increase the number of movements necessary on your job: use a light hammer instead of a heavy one, try to make a small wrench do when a big one is necessary, use little force where considerable force is needed, and so on.
(2) Contrive as many interruptions to your work as you can: when changing the material on which you are working, as you would on a lathe or punch, take needless time to do it. If you are cutting, shaping or doing other measured work, measure dimensions twice as often as you need to. When you go to the lavatory, spend a longer time there than is necessary. Forget tools so that you will have to go back after them.
(3) language, pretend not to understand instructions in a
foreign tongue.
(4) Pretend that instructions are hard to understand, and ask to have them repeated more than once. Or pretend that you are particularly anxious to do your work, and pester the foreman with unnecessary questions.
(5) Do your work poorly and blame it on bad tools, machinery, or equipment. Complain that these things are preventing you from doing your job right.
(6) Never pass on your skill and experience to a new or less skillful worker.
(7) Snarl up administration in every possible way. Fill out forms illegibly so that they will have to be done over; make mistakes or omit requested information in forms.
(8) If possible, join or help organize a group for presenting employee problems to the management. See that the procedures adopted are as inconvenient as possible for the management, involving the presence of a large number of employees at each presentation, entailing more than one meeting for each grievance, bringing up problems which are largely imaginary, and so on.
(9) Misroute materials.
(10) Mix good parts with unusable scrap and rejected parts.

(12) General Devices for Lowering Morale and Creating Confusion

(a) Give lengthy and incomprehensible explanations when questioned.
(b) Report imaginary spies or danger to the Gestapo or police.
(c) Act stupid.
(d) Be as irritable and quarrelsome as possible without getting yourself into trouble.
(e) Complain against ersatz materials.
(f) In public treat axis nationals or quislings coldly.
(g) Stop all conversation when axis nationals or quislings enter a cafe.
(h) Cry and sob hysterically at every occasion, especially when confronted by government clerks. (i) Boycott all movies, entertainments, concerts, newspapers which are in any way connected with the quisling authorities.
(j) Do not cooperate in salvage schemes.

The Week in Review: 6/-6/6

The democrats decide, unemployment rises, the SUV dies. Once more, the liberal media wants you to believe that the sky is falling.

Obama vs. McCain
Finally, the democrats chose their sacrificial lamb for 2008, thus ensuring the plutocracy endure. Citizens of lollipop land will have to wait another four years before gumdrops and equal rights pour from the Heavens.

Unemployment rate climbs 5.5%
Meaning? You'll have to wait in line a few extra minutes at McDonalds. Let's face it, the only jobs being lost are the ones not worth having.

$4.00 gas kills the SUV
Ford and General Motors have announced plans to cut production of SUVs and pick-up trucks to make way for smaller, more fuel efficient vehicles. Observers maintain the death of the SUV is upon us. In fact, it is not. What's happened is that the market has equalized and the folks who had no business buying SUVs in the first place (read: the middle class) are finally realizing the folly of leasing, seven-year loans and negative equity. Pity that it takes events such as this to impart a little economic common sense to the masses.

Things I can afford that the middle class cannot: vacations

Ahh yes, summertime. The most wonderful time of year wouldn't you agree? I for one love it, for it is summer that offers the respite from the concrete and skyscrapers that dominate my milieu. Three months of long weekends in the Hampton's. Weeks sailing the Greek Isles. There are no budgets, no time constraints, no interruptions. Just relaxation, family time and pampering.

If you are envious I understand. Believe me, if I were middle class I would hate me. Not because I am wealthy and can satisfy my whims, however outrageous or expensive they may be. No, I would hate me because I would be forced to confront my own pathetic existence- a life spent wanting, not having.

Wealth and power affords one the ability to vacation when and where they want. While the middle class loads up the minivan and embarks on their great American road trips, Mrs. Ross, myself, the nanny and sometimes the baby will jet off to Barbados. Just because. While the middle class waits in line at Disney World, the Ross family is enjoying a special VIP tour of the Magic Kingdom - no standing in lines with sweaty English tourists.

Take any one of my vacations, even the most rote, and they would be the dream vacation of any suburban family languishing through a time share tour just to get a few free tickets to Universal Studios. Take any one of my vacations and you will see just how powerful wealth can be.

Ross' Rules: create the illusion of hope

As a favor to an old friend I invited his grandson in for an interview. Despite the young man's average resume I gave him thirty minutes of my precious time and engaged him in a polite, if not genial manner. To his credit he was a kind, likable individual. Unfortunately, he was also unemployable.

I knew I would not hire him before the interview even started. I knew before my secretary even scheduled it. But because the interview was a favor, I proceeded. And he thought he might get a job.

Why?

Because I let him think as much. I allowed hope to creep into his mind and optimism invade his psyche. Not because I am too kind, but rather because to be rude to him would be an affront to my good friend who had asked the favor.

Hope is a powerful emotion- one of the few that has any place in business - and can be used as a powerful management tool. Like abandoned children clinging to the hope that their fathers will, for once, fulfill a promise, your employees should always believe that there exists the potential and possibility for something more, something better. A promotion, a raise, acknowledgement of their existence.

You should cultivate this hope despite the fact that you know such petty lifelines will never be realized.

I am sure that after his interview the young man blithely went about his day daydreaming about dressing up in his charcoal Brooks Brothers suit and walking with purpose to the job that would one day make him wealthy beyond his lower middle class dreams. I'm sure he checked his email every half hour, anxiously awaiting an email he surely thought would come. And I'm sure that as the days and weeks progressed, the hopes he once had were replaced by a seething anger that will one day serve as motivation.

I hope.

Things I can afford that the middle class cannot: Innocence

Perhaps one of the unsung benefits of being immensely wealthy and powerful beyond all measure is the legal access and resources one is afforded. Lawyers, we all know, are like insurance, you pay out the nose for them in hopes you never need them. But when you do...God bless those greedy cut-throat bastards.

Why am I bringing this up now? To what end does parading my crack legal team in front of my readers serve? Innocence, my friends, innocence.

We all know that despite the phrase, "innocent until proven guilty" in our country the opposite holds true and that once indited for an infraction it is up to the defendant to prove their innocence. It's perverted, I know.

Many of you will be shocked to know that I have been a victim of our perverted justice system. What will shock you even more is that I was not a victim of a white-collar witch hunt, not recently anyway. Rather, I was the victim of a flagrant criminal and civil case involving a bicyclist.

For the record, the idiot swerved in front of me. He hit my car (causing significant damage I might add). Yes, I had a few drinks at dinner. Yes, I was driving. But I was under the legal limit and my actions had nothing to do with the accident. Of course, the hippie bicyclist felt otherwise. So, unfortunately, did the Gestapo who police my borough.

Ridiculous, I know.

Thankfully, I had a team of brilliant legal minds defending me (all Yalies, by the way. Always go with Yalies if you can afford them) and in the end got off scott free. The family and biker were outraged by their perceived injustice. I just smiled and patted the top of the young man's head- easy since he was in a wheelchair- and strode out of the courtroom and innocent man.

What's scary is that had I not the means, I surely would be wasting away in jail, or worse yet, paying restitution. Alas, I am not. Not because I didn't deserve it, but because I could afford it.

Week in Review: 5/18-5/24

Well, here we are again. It never ceases to amaze me how time effortlessly slips through our fingers.

California Supreme Court legalizes gay marriage

Some folks are up in arms over this "landmark" decision. But I don't see why it's such a big deal. What man would want to marry a lesbian anyway? Heck, in many ways I think gays are lucky. You know how much money I'd still have if marriage was illegal?

Clinton wants to change the rules

Hillary wins a few states, continues to think her campaign is relevant, says that the delegates from Michigan and Florida should be counted. Of course, back in January when both candidates thought the states didn't matter she agreed with the DNC that the delegates should not be counted. And you know what? I'm starting to respect her dogged, single-minded, win-at-all-costs determination. Very Rossian.

American Idol crowns its victor

Thank God this show has ended. Mrs. Ross complains that I'm a workaholic. Well honey, what self-respecting man would want to come home to the garbage you insist on watching? However, I do find it interesting that more people voted for the two Idol candidates than did during the last Presidential election. Nothing makes me prouder to be a veteran and American.

Things I can afford that the middle class cannot

There is a common misconception that we wealthy are different from everyone else. Better maybe, but not necessarily different. As they say, we put our trousers on one leg at a time, just like average folks. And while we all know I am anything but average, occasionally I like to indulge in the most average of meals.

The hamburger. I like to refer to it as the people's meal. That time tested, most American of recipes. A perfect product composed from the very best our nation's breadbasket has to offer, the hamburger reminds us that the simple things in life can in fact be enjoyable.

Now, despite the fact that yes, I frequently dine on lobster tails and porterhouses there are times when a man needs a burger. And there is no better place to satiate that need than at the Wall Street Burger Shoppe.

From the spelling of the word shoppe, one immediately suspects they are in for a burger experience unlike any other. And the moment the delectable confluence of Kobe beef, black truffles, seared foie gras, aged Gruyere cheese and wild mushrooms, delivered in a warm brioche bun with hints of gold flecks hits your pallet you know that you've just experienced something special. You've experienced that which so few have: Heaven on a bun. Never has $175 tasted so delicious.

Yes, you read that correctly. $175. And it's worth every penny. Obviously, this is a burger designed not for the unrefined pallets of the masses, those Number 2 super-sized combo meal heathens. Such genius, such delicacy is not to be wasted on those who think Outback makes a great steak. No my friends, a $175 hamburger is not for the provincial, rather it is for those who appreciate the finer things in life. It is for we who view the gourmet as everyday and the extravagant as commonplace.

Thankfully it is priced beyond the reach of those who would never appreciate it for what it is: a ground patty for the Gods of the Gods.

Ross' Rules: Whenever I damn well please

For the last few weeks my secretary has been getting pestered by a journalist wishing to chronicle me for an article on ethics and management. Obviously I am a man of importance so I can understand why he wants to write about me. However, it appears he doesn't know that important men have little in the way of disposable time. And as much as I would like to help this young man, and as flattered as I am that he wishes to make me the focus of his story, I have neither the time or need to bend my schedule to accommodate his.

Which brings me to this week's rule: make them come to you.

You are busy. You are important. And your time is your most precious commodity. Your world should revolve around the company and those you manage should revolve around you. Make your underlings rearrange their schedules to accommodate yours. Who cares how if they have to cancel that long-planned vacation to finish a project that will end up getting shelved. If they want to work for you that's exactly what they'll do. You've missed more than a few dance recitals, school programs and soccer games in your life, it's time they do the same. When pesky journalists, PR hacks or ad agency types tell you a deadline is unrealistic, stare them in the face and thank them for their time. Then tell them you're putting the account up for review.

Do I want the article written? Of course. But let's face it, this is not the first, nor will it be the last story penned about G. Glen Ross.

The Week in Review: 5/11-5/16

What happened this week? Hell, I don't know. I've been too busy to pay attention. Not that anything notable happened. At least not in the best damn country on God's green earth.

Ross' Rules: Write Well

This may come as a surprise, but to be successful you must grasp the English language in written form. Obviously for some of you this presents a formidable challenge. Get over it.

Yes, texting may be more convenient and yes, constructing a well thought out, grammatically correct sentence can be challenging, however, there is no better way to identify one's self as an incompetent technical school dropout than through poor writing skills.

Your words are a reflection of who you are. They communicate your professionalism, attention to detail and intellectual capacity. More importantly, your words are the key to your success. For if you cannot write, you cannot succeed.

I, myself, happen to take great pride in my writing abilities. Correct, I take great pride in all that I do, but I find my writing to be elegant and refined, humorous and insightful, informative and intelligent. There are those who maintain that my language is often stuffy and verbose, bloated even. They argue that I too frequently utilize words that are antiquated and obese. They suggest I trim the fat, so to speak.

To them I ask, how much are you worth?

Week in Review: 5/4-5/10

Much goings on in the world this week. However, as most of it happened outside of the United States, there really is no need to talk about it.

On to what really matters.

Obama wins again. Hillary does too.

Hillary still believes she has a chance. She also believes the Monica episode was just a one time deal.

Crude hits yet another high.

Once again crude oil sets another price record. For those of you not positioned in oil futures, this is a bad thing. It's also why you have to shop at Wal*Mart and cut coupons.

Scarlett Johanssen engaged to Ryan Reynolds.

I had the pleasure of meeting this fine young lady at a charity dinner a few years ago. Despite being an actor, I found her to be very likable and intelligent. Congratulations to the happy couple. May you enjoy it while it lasts.

Things that I can afford that the middle class cannot

A $500,000 custom designed home theater.

I think that sentence pretty much sums it up. To boast that I am able to screen Hollywood's latest offerings in my custom designed, state of the art, 30 seat home theater one week before they are released would be uncouth.

I always say that one must be sensitive to those less fortunate. After all, to make such comments in the presence of those who are forced to watch from the discomfort of their local cineplex would be rude.

Ross' Rules

Last week I received the following question which I have paraphrased below.

Mr. Ross,

How have you attained your enormous wealth?

Sincerely,

Mr. Charles B. W. III


I get this question all the time from eager young upstarts and IRS auditors. And while I've told the story thousands of times, the creation tale of G. Glen Ross, as I like to call it, is one I never tire of telling.

Like most children, my youth was one of hard work and intense education. Strict disciplinarians, my mother and father sent me away to an exclusive preparatory school at age four. Alone for the first time in my life, I threw myself into my studies and by age seven had mastered Latin. My gift for languages set me apart from the other students and the faculty took keen interest in my education. Over the course of the next few years I would add Italian, French, Spanish, Portuguese, German, Russian and Old English to my repertoire. And while I enjoyed language, it was a simple book report that would change my life forever. For it was in fifth grade when I read the Wealth of Nations for the first time.

A love affair blossomed and I was consumed by economic theory and all her mysterious secrets. While the other boys we're playing lacrosse, I was studying the invisible hand and game theory. I looked at the world in terms of supply and demand and market forces. I started my first business at age eight and by eight and a half performed my first hostile takeover, forcibly usurping a candy distribution operation run by a small wiry boy by the name of Preston. Little did I know that the success of this action would form the backbone of my corporate ethos.

My college years took me to Yale and Harvard, where I studied my craft under some of the most influential minds of the 20th century. After serving as a Lieutenant in Korea, I joined a major accounting firm where I quickly ascended, becoming one of the youngest partner in the firm's history. Building on my successes, I then assumed a directorship at Phillip Morris, which I held through the company's heyday.

And while I made my mark in those positions, it wasn't until the 1970s and 80s that I found true success. Serving in various executive management positions within the defense, oil and banking industries, I was able to parlay my intelligence, personality, determination and impeccable timing into a fortune.

For some, that would have been enough. But, like a mother's love or a father's acceptance, enough didn't equal happiness. So I kept moving forward and upward and my portfolio and number of ex-wives grew larger and larger. I made millions upon millions in telcom, energy and a then little known phenomenon called the World Wide Web.

So, why am I still doing it? Because I don't have to. In fact I never had to. Work, as my friend above said, is for the middle class. They do it because they have to, not because they want to. I, on the other hand, come from wealth and privilege. I've never had to work a day in my life. But I do because I love to.

Why?

Because work is competition in its purest form and for those who thrive in its arena come the spoils of war. It is only then that man is able to know success. And that, my friends, is the key.

The Week in Review: 4/27-5/2

McCain and Clinton support gas-tax holiday

Mark this day as the only time in my life I have supported a democrat. Obama actually said something that made sense: a gas-tax holiday would do more harm than good. Now, as my offshore bank accounts attest, I'm normally all for lower taxes. But this gas-tax holiday borders on dangerous. Do you people not know that our gas taxes help maintain our highways? Do you have any idea what the ground clearance of a McClaren F1 is? Of course you don't.

The D.C Madam hangs herself

Death is never funny, and as immoral as suicide is, I feel much sorrow for this woman and her family. That she was providing a valuable service to some of our nation's most important and powerful figures was obviously forgotten and overlooked. Her prosecution was nothing more than a witch hunt propagated by those who know nothing of stress and the relief such services provide.

Recession?

Proof that journalists have no business reporting on the financial world came when the DOW topped 13,000 and the unemployment rate dropped. Perhaps they can now stop reporting on an event that is as likely as democracy in the Mid-East. Quote me on this: there will be no recession. Go back to reporting on things that matter, like celebrity and Africa.

Things I can afford that the middle class cannot

As fuel and food prices continue to rise, there has been much made of the economic strain placed on the middle class. Apparently many are having to trim the fat, so to speak, from their budgets in order to afford these essential line items. Tragic, I know.

Obviously the Ross family doesn't have to worry about such trivial matters. Not only can I afford to fill up our fleet of luxury and performance automobiles with premium fuel, my exorbitant wealth allows me to fly my jet and pilot my boats with complete and total abandon. Have you ever filled up a Citation? Do you know how much diesel is required to run a 100' yacht? It cost me $37,000 just to take a cruise down the Intercostal. The amount I spend on fossil fuels each month is more that most middle-class Americans make in a year, or to put it in better perspective, more than 239 Kenyans will make in their lifetimes. $4.00 a gallon gas? Pocket change.

I can't imagine what it must be like to have to decide between filling up my 1998 Chrysler Caravan and buying the family name brand macaroni and cheese. Don't worry, yours truly isn't developing a new found sense of empathy, I can't imagine it because I've never been that poor. In all honesty I've never had to choose between anything, let alone commodities.

When you're in my tax bracket you can afford the finer things in life, groceries included. Mind you, I never go grocery shopping, but our chef only shops at the most exclusive gourmet boutiques. 93% of the country can't afford what we eat and most of the time we don't even finish. I'd say on any given night our housekeeper disposes of $50 to $100 worth of unfinished lobster tails, Kobe beef, truffles and other exorbitantly pricey imported foodstuffs.

The network talking heads can talk all they want about recession. I'm sure some of you would agree with their Chicken Little antics. However, you won't hear G. Glen subscribe to such nonsense. The fact of the matter is that the reason the middle class are in such dire straits is because the middle class cannot be trusted with money and are consumed by envy. Who wouldn't want to be me? What rational man wouldn't want to live like we wealthy do? I understand why they would feel that way. However, in their Quixotic quest to live like the other half they have maxed out their Sears cards and stretched themselves thinner than the hand spun silk negligee Mrs. Ross is so fond of.

The middle class has no one to blame but themselves, and if they could afford Quicken, I'd recommend they purchase it. That being said, perhaps riding their Wal*Mart bicycles to work and cutting back on the pot roasts will help these overweight gluttons lose a few dozen pounds. After all, you never see rich people competing on the Biggest Loser.

Ross' Rules: Work is Life

Lately much has been made of the need for a strong work-life balance. The theory goes that if one is able to spend time with their family or pursuing hobbies and activities outside of work, they will be a happier employee and thus they will be a better employee.

Rubbish.

A balanced life is like sensible democrat: they're both imaginary. The need for a balanced life is the excuse of those who hate their jobs, and such people belong in welfare lines; not walking the hallowed halls of Corporate America. It is an affront to the millions of dedicated men everywhere who sacrifice their happiness and that of their family's for the good of the company.

I want workaholics. I want relentless passion and single-minded focus. My employees must eat, breathe and bleed the mission statement. I don't care that little Billy has a t-ball game or the Paige has a dance recital. The nanny can tell you how it went when you see her. Nor do I care if you haven't seen your wife in weeks. She may hate you now, but trust me, she'll love the lifestyle your substantial compensation package affords her.

Workaholics are what make this country tick. They are the lubrication in the gears of the most potent economy on Earth. While one may lament the long hours and high stress, they can rest easy knowing they are providing their families with wonderful homes, luxurious cars, high priced nannies and the latest fashions. No the workaholic doesn't get to spend much time enjoying the benefits of such hard work, but they know that happiness will never satisfy them the way comraderie and a defined sense of purpose can. And they know that defeating their children in a high stakes game of Connect Four, while intially gratifying, will never earn them a promotion and corner office.

As I approach the twilight of my working years I cannot help but envy those just starting out. My work is what gives me life. It is what will give you life. Remember, you can always start a new family, but you only get one shot at your career. Enjoy it while you can.

Things I can afford that the middle class cannot

There are few sounds as seductive as the the deep throated purr of my Aston Martin Vanquish S. This 520 horse, 200 mile an hour piece of engineering perfection set me back over 300 grand. That's more than the this country's median home price. And while she'll punish you when you're bad, when you're good she'll satisfy in ways that would get you beheaded in most Middle Eastern nations.

Oh, did I mention I have two of these? One for each coast.

The Aston is my preferred supercar. Sporty yet refined. Exquisite yet unpretentious. Much like myself, I should say. Many of the nuevo riche insist on parading around in their gaudy Italian monstrosities clamoring for the world's attention. They of course get it, though only from middle class gawkers from Iowa or other sheltered locales. Those who know, like myself, openly scorn such trivial material displays. The Aston, on the other hand, oozes sophistication and class, much like its owner and her sultry curves, much like those of the woman undoubtedly riding in the vehicle's fine calf-skin leather passenger seat, demand your attention.

I understand how envy can posses those who do not. I see the looks on their defeated faces as I rush by, a sophisticated glorious comet of carbon and polished chrome. I imagine their self-loathing growing with each strained RPM of their Honda's meager engine. They get good gas mileage. They pollute far less. They are safe and practical. But you know what? Those things mean nothing if you have enough money.

Every so often, when I feel the need to connect with my employees, I take a drive down to the Saturn dealership and test drive a car. As I economically plod along I pretend I am like them. I tune into the local radio station and roll down my window and imagine myself commuting to work or home to greet my loving family. I think this is a nice daydream, until I realize that there is nothing nice about being poor.

Reader Question

Q: I was just wondering, where do you stand on recycling? Carbon offsets?

-Andrew B.

A. Well Andrew, as apparently it is Earth Day I will answer your question. Though I'll make it quick because I'm sure the hippies wouldn't appreciate the CO2 such long winded answers would emit.

This may surprise you, but I very much encourage my housekeeping staff to recycle. I myself cannot be bothered with the trivialities of separating my waste, but I see to it that they pick what can be recycled out of the trash and put it in the proper containers. As for carbon offsets, I think they are nothing but smoke and mirrors, but Mrs. Ross insists on purchasing them to mollify her conscious. We purchase ours from Africa. Seeing as they have no industry to produce pollutants, the offsets come cheap.

Ross' Rules: Let money be your scorekeeper

Question: Why do you do what you do?

a) Because your job makes you feel good about yourself.

b) You enjoy the responsibility your career affords.

c) You make an obscene amount of money.

If you answered "a" or "b" you're wrong. Warm fuzzies are for 10 year-old girls and guidance counselors. You want responsibility? Join the military.

If you answered "c," congratulations, you're a big boy who doesn't have his head up his ass.

Sure, there are those who argue that one's career should be guided by principle and passion, but we know such comments are nothing more than pathetic justifications spewed from the mouths of those desperately trying to validate their five-figure incomes. We know that wealth is the magic elixir that makes life bearable. We know that nothing tempers a sixteen hour workday like a fine steak from Morton's or sinking into the supple leather of a hand-stitched calfskin loafer. We know that failing relationships can be dealt with at Christmas and Birthday's and that stress and anger can be squashed between the floorboards and accelerators of our supercars and cigarette boats.

The middle class can have their idealism and balance and nine-to-five cross-stitch circle, save the pandas careers. They can have their familial relationships and their father-son ballgames and healthy lifestyles. But you know what? They'll still lose. Because wealth, my friends, is how winners are measured.

The Week in Review: 4/13-4/19

Good Friday, Rossophytes. Yes, yours truly is feeling rather dashing today, both in looks and mood. Why, do you ask. No reason other than this weekend marks the commencement of the summer sailing season. Break out the Sperry's and linen!


9/11 Conspiracy Theories 'Ridiculous,' Al Qaeda Says

My grandson forwarded me this important news story. Now, I have never heard of the Onion News Network, but my he tells me they are the most credible media outlet I've never heard of. And after watching the video, I have to agree. If you ever had any doubts as to who felled the might bastions of capitalism, you will soon be enlightened.

Pope Benedict's Historic Visit

The Bishop of Rome visited our great country this week. At an outdoor mass, he preached the importance of overcoming division and rejecting the “anger,” “weakening moral sense,” and “growing forgetfulness" of something or other in modern society. No longer a Catholic, I won't be damned to hell for not giving a crap.

CBS Knocks the Democratic Debate Out of the Park

Mrs. Ross insisted on watching "Real Housewives of the Big Apple" so I didn't get to watch the democratic debate on CBS. Not that I would have. Empty promises of hope and prosperity do nothing when you already have everything. Though from what I hear, Charlie Gibson and Stephie-opolis did the expected and pushed the democratic party and CBS further into irrelevance. Great job boys!

Things I can afford that the middle class cannot: 16 ft tall security walls

As I sit with Mrs. Ross on my favorite of the seven decks that surround my palatial ocean side estate, exhausted from a day spent espousing the virtues of values and ethics in Corporate America (however, false they may be), I take comfort that we are able to sit undisturbed and topless, away from prying jealous eyes. For as much as they may desperately seek a glimpse into a life of luxury, my sixteen-foot tall, imported Costa Rican lava rock privacy wall prevents their envious middle-class eyes from doing so.

Sometimes, when my driver erroneously steers the Maybach into yet another neighborhood brought to you by Shea Homes or Richmond American, I laugh to myself at the matchstick fences that pathetically try to hide the dead sod and cheap plastic toys that litter the yards like discarded trash. For if any neighborhood demands fortification it are those of the middle-class. Though, such walls would protect the eyes of the innocent as much as they would the egos of the hyper-extended, paycheck-to-paycheck homeowners.

My walls (and yes I have many, all literal) isolate me from the realities faced by the average. The moment I cross the gate's threshold I am transported to an idyllic paradise designed and created especially for me. My walls afford Mrs. Ross the tan-line free look she demands and allow our child to play, free from predation and the jealous, thieving bullies that permeate suburban playgrounds.


There are those who argue that such defenses scar the landscape and further isolate the rich from the poor. While I disagree that such walls scar the land, I agree fully that they isolate the rich from the poor. For that, my acolytes, is the primary reason God invented stone.

On values

For those of you expecting Wednesday's regular column, as much as I enjoy regaling you with the luxuries in my life, I am attending a conference on values and ethics and between preparing my speech and dining at Denver's finest eateries, I simply do not have the time to write.

In the mean time, go read the Robb Report and check back Thursday.

Ross' Rules: Banish Humility

Of all the hateful criticism lobbed my way from jealous competitors and scorned lovers, perhaps the most amusing is that of my perceived arrogance. Arrogance? Are simple statements of fact arrogant? Is awareness of one's own excellence the mark of hubris?

For the failed and failing the answer is yes.

Humility has no place in a successful man's world. Sure, the experts will tell you that such a trait endears one to his co-workers and management team. But I ask you this, do the experts travel to their multiple vacation homes in their luxuriously appointed Gulfstreams or Citations? Unless Southwest has upgraded their fleet, I think we all know the answer to that.

Arrogance has every place in society because arrogance is the body projecting success. And to paraphrase the famous saying, "it is not arrogance if you can back it up." In the gladiatorial arena that is Corporate America, arrogance is the first defense and best offense one has against detraction. In fact, I like to think of it as advertising. And while some might say that humor and emotion are the hallmarks of successful advertising, it is the repetitive loudmouths who are remembered. The humble wallflower may not have enemies, but the only people who know they exist are their families and the secretarial pool.

Humility makes me sick. In my mind the word is synonymous with weakness and failure. Last week I interviewed a VP candidate and when asked what his greatest weakness was, he actually answered, "I tend to overextend myself." I was shocked. Surely he had to have known that the successful have no professional weaknesses. Needless to say, the interview ended shortly thereafter. I believe he now works for his father-in-law.

To accuse the arrogant of being self-absorbed blowhards is to sell its impact short. Arrogance is part of the deception. Success begets success and you must become its magnet. Espousing your success lets the world beneath you know that you are better than they, and alerts the few above you that you are nipping at their heels. And while you may not willingly embrace arrogance, once you become accustomed to its warm bosom, you will never let it go.

Reader Questions

From a Mr. Coltrane:

I'd appreciate reading your answers to questions posed by your faithful but how do I know you will answer questions truthfully and with the same tact you always display?


Mr. Coltrane,

I appreciate your concerns, however unfounded they may be. As you know, my goal is to help my readers achieve success by any means necessary, and as a result you can expect that each answer will be answered with utmost sincerity and honesty. As for tact, well, I don't make promises I have no intention of keeping.


Sincerely,

G. Glen Ross

The Week in Review: 4/6 - 4/12

I got a busy day ahead of me so I'll make this quick. If you can't keep up, go read USA Today.

Airlines take a crap

By last count three airlines ceased operations this week, a fourth filed for Chapter 11 and American cancelled 900 flights. Of course this means nothing to me as the only airline I give a damn about is Ross Airways and we're doing fine, thank you.

Protesting the Olympics

Human rights activists rioted in France in protest of the upcoming Chinese Olympic games. Aiming fire extinguishers at the torch, they managed to extinguish it five times, forcing organizers to transport it by bus to its final destination. Personally, I don't see what the big deal is. During my career I've managed thousands of people, so I know how essential it is to maintain order and discipline. If subjugating a few dissidents under the guise of national security means a safe Olympics, then so be it. Of course, rounding up terrorists won't prevent your lungs from melting after breathing in the fine Beijing air.

Polygamist compound raided

Last I checked, Texas was nowhere near Utah, though it seems that the Republic has a thing for harboring polygamists. Authorities were tipped off to what was really going on at the 1,600 acre religious compound when a teenage girl called to report she was being abused. Apparently she'd been forced to marry a 50-year-old man and gave birth to his child at age 15. Authorities raided the compund and removed two hundred women and children from the premises. Warren Jeffs, the father of this happy little place, is currently in an Arizona jail.

Of course the story itself is not humorous. What is, however, is Texas getting yet another black eye. Personally, I think Mexico should thank us for taking it off their hands.

Per your requests

Due to increasing interest, I've made the decision to accept questions from my readers. Each week I will answer as many as I deem relevant and impart wisdom gleaned from over forty years in Corporate America.

For most folks this unprecedented access comes at a steep price, but for you, it's free.

Questions should be submitted in the comments section.

Things I can afford that the middle class cannot: A long and luxurious life

As you may recall from last week’s Week in Review, the wealthy live, on average, approximately five years longer than everyone else. So, in honor of this fact, allow me to espouse yet another benefit of being fabulously wealthy.

Now, the study may be rooted in medical fact, but I believe we live much longer because we have much more to live for. Yes, being able to afford the best doctors and medical treatment is nice. As is not having to drive to Canada to get my cholesterol medication. I love the fact that Medicare is something I partake in only because I’ve paid so much into the system. Of course I don’t need it, but that won’t stop me from using it.

I love the security of knowing that if I should be stricken with cancer, I’ll actually have treatment options and won’t be relegated to receiving treatment at some sub-par HMO cancer center. How one deals with such a prospect is beyond me. In fact, I don’t see much difference between receiving “normal” treatment and simply letting the disease spread.

Being wealthy means I can receive the most advanced preventative care available. Yearly, I undergo a barrage of tests designed to identify any and all afflictions that may be present in my perfectly maintained body. I have at my disposal a dedicated team of physicians whose only purpose in life is to keep me operating at peak capacity and I have chef, personal trainer, massage therapist and relaxation expert at my beckon call. If my eyesight goes, laser surgery will fix it. If my skin begins to sag, plastic surgery will tighten it up. If my heart fails, I’ll buy a new one.

Of course, my dedication to living is predicated on the fact that, unlike much of the poor and middle-class, I have something to live for. Actually, I have an abundance of things to live for. I know that as I age, my body will not break down and I will be able to sail my boats, drive my cars and love my wife with equal vigor. I know that unlike the poor and middle class, my golden years will not be spent in casinos and bingo halls. I know that the stress of living on a fixed income won’t slowly erode my will to live and that my grandchildren will still love me because I’ll be able to give them more than five dollars for Christmas.

Unlike the poor and middle class, I know that my wealth allows me to endlessly sip at the fountain of youth and I know that when death comes, I won’t welcome it with arms wide open, grateful that it has rescued me from a life of premature decay. Instead, I’ll make it sit in the fine Italian leather seat of my Aston Martin as I slam into a concrete retaining wall.

Ross' Rules: Ride the Winning Horse

By this point, if you have not recognized that G. Glen Ross is a winner, then I question whether you should be reading this in the first place. I appreciate that you may aspire to greatness, but lacking the deductive reasoning skills to surmise, based upon previous journal entries, that yours truly is the Secretariat of the corporate world, I recommend you focus your attention on more attainable goals. Perhaps with a little work and lot of luck, someday you may be a HR manager.

Where was I? Right, I'm a winner. From the moment I kicked Lewis Ralston's butt across the playground, G. Glen's come out on top. I've got a bigger bank account and lower cholesterol count than every other member of my firm's executive team. My second and fourth homes are in neighborhoods so exclusive they don't show up on the tax registers and my executive assistant finished top of his class at Wharton. How many executives do you know that have secretaries with such strong pedigrees? That's right, none.

And while I could continue to list my possessions that top the "world's best," "world's most expensive," "world's most desirable," and "world's most exclusive" lists, I will not. Not because I wish not to bore you or make you envious, rather I simply have not the time or space to list such things.

However, what I will do is impart upon you this bit of wisdom: losers get nowhere. To make it in this world you must be, must work for and must surround yourself with winners. The company you keep, the teams you support and the employers you work for, all must share the common thread of success.

Why? Simple, winners attract success, wealth and beautiful spouses. And as I've stated before, all are essential to a life worth living. Through my career I've been astute enough to attach myself to some of the business world's most intelligent minds and successful companies. More important, I've been prescient enough to jump ship when the tides of success began shifting.

It's called success by association and in the business world it can be your most powerful ally. Success by association has the ability to overcome mediocrity, stupidity and a public university education. Success by association can gloss over race, gender and someday maybe even disability. By riding the coattails of success you will attach your name to the quality required of every executive. And while you'll probably never succeed to my extent, if you remember to surround yourself with winners, someday you'll be one too.

The Week in Review: 3/30-4/4

Ahh yes, another glorious week has come and gone and another weekend of decadent relaxation approaches. Mrs. Ross, myself and a few friends I are off to Telluride for the last ski outing of the season. From what I hear, the conditions are phenomenal. Truly, there is no greater time to enjoy the slopes of Southwest Colorado than in the Spring.

Now, on to the week in review...

Students Write Good

While I normally don't read the New York Times, there was a copy in the executive restroom and well, I needed something to read. Communist rhetoric or not, I couldn't help but shake my head at the fact that, according to a test administered last year, only one in four high school seniors are proficient writers.

Understandably, many are blaming the educational system. However, I believe such blame is misplaced. My generation might be the greatest, but the one mistake we made was not realizing the rhythm method was ineffective. Had we known, our country's youth would not have been raised by some of the most ineffective and immature parents this great country has ever seen. So, on behalf of grandparents everywhere, I'm sorry. Mistakes obviously happen.


The Rich Live Longer

Of course it'd be stating the obvious that we rich lead far better lives than the middle classed and poor. Finally though, studies have confirmed what we've always suspected, we uncommonly rich live longer than the commonly not. 4.5 years to be exact.

I'd have thought the figure would have been higher though. How one can tolerate living surrounded by want and mediocrity is beyond me. But I'll save my thoughts on euthanasia for another day.

Ted Turner Proves Again That Wealth Can Only Do So Much

Personally, I've always thought Ted Turner was a twit. When he married Hanoi Jane, I knew he was. Admittedly, I am neither a fan of his politics or his baseball team. However, the fact that he is a fellow member of the plutocracy does not immunize him against my scorn.

According to Tedly, if we don't take action, in 30 to 40 years the Earth will be eight degrees hotter. Plants won't grown and everyone will either die or have to resort to cannibalism. First I'll say this: Ted, you're an idiot. Your argument has no merit because it is grounded in shoddy science and false assumptions. Second, I'm sure most people would welcome such climate change. Third, I'll be dead by then so it doesn't really matter.

Enjoy your weekend everybody. I'm sure Chili's will be a great time.

Things that I can afford that the middle class cannot: a complete and total disregard for the opinions of others

When you finish reading this post, I'd appreciate it if you would take the time to comment on what you thought of it. Oh wait, you can't. Why not, you ask? Answer: because frankly, I have no use for your opinion. And no, I don't care that such disregard on my part might hurt some feelings or wound a few egos.

After publishing last week's post-Easter Rule, I received a few pathetic comments that were so absurd that any and all vitriol was replaced by humor. Now, I’m well aware that the ability to form logical thoughts and coherent arguments are skills not deemed necessary in hippie communes, California and much of the Northeast, but even had these simpletons somehow managed to present a point that flirted with validity I would not have cared. The rich and powerful do not have to care.

I recall the early days of my career when I was only an associate. My co-workers and I would be working on projects and they would always be mindful of other’s input, frequently uttering such things as, “I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes” or “What are your thoughts on this?” It was pathetic, but I would play along so others would think of me as “part of the team.” Though, having never known anything but wealth never had the need for anyone’s opinion but my own.

The middle-class might argue that such egocentric narcissism has no place in today’s society. Of course, the proletariat would believe such nonsense. They cling to the hope that consideration will solve the world’s problems, but fail to comprehend that consideration clogs the wheels of progress and impedes the decision making process.

Sometimes, to humor myself, I solicit members of my staff for their opinions. Their eyes light up and their thoughts spill from their mouths like Mrs. Ross’ cleavage in a Versace cocktail dress. I nod politely and smile, all the while thinking of something more meaningful. When I no longer hear their voices I move on to the next topic, never acknowledging what the person said. From the highest high to the lowest low, their faces drop with the realization that their thoughts have been discounted - a beautiful sight indeed.

Being a man of wealth and power is to be a man without care. Consideration is a debt shouldered exclusively by the middle-class. How they live with such a burden I cannot comprehend. Fortunately, I’m not obligated to care.

Ross' Rules: Dress for Success

When I go to the grave, the one thing I know people will say about me (other than I was a man of great wisdom and brilliant business sense) is that I was always the best-dressed man in any room.

For the powerful businessman, the perfect suit brings everything together. Though you may have an Ivy League pedigree and winning personality, you are nothing without the proper presentation. In fact, the proper presentation is perhaps the most fundamentally important weapon in the businessman’s arsenal. It also happens to be this week’s rule.

Those who know men’s fashion respect one name above all others- William Fioravanti. One look at a Fioravanti communicates wealth, power and class. Refined, yet never flashy. Polished, yet never ostentatious, a Fioravanti says to the world, “I am a man of incredible means, impeccable taste and I am better than you.”

Now, I understand that at this point in your career you have not the means to afford an $11,000 suit. Perhaps you can afford one of their less expensive models, but I doubt it. However, I cannot stress enough the importance of looking your best. Whether that means a simple off-the-rack Brooks Brothers or a cheaper Bloomingdale’s knock-off, the businessman looking to make something of himself must model himself in the mold of his superiors. Short-sleeved dress-shirts and wrinkle-free khakis are for high-school science teachers and rural insurance salesmen.

After my grandson returned from Iraq, the first thing I did was fly my tailor to Walter Reed to take his measurements. The boy had lost a considerable amount of weight due to the many surgeries needed to treat his wounds, but the tailor was able to work with his doctors and came up with projected measurements that proved to be very accurate. Though my grandson would not accept my phone calls nor return my letters, my tailor told me he successfully impressed upon the young man the importance of looking his best. “Would you rather they notice your scars or your suit,” he asked.

"Will they notice my scars?" I can think of no finer summary of my rule than that simple question. Remember it everytime you look in the mirror.

The Week in Review: 3/23-3/29

What I think you need to know about last week.

The Fed tries to stave off a US economic meltdown

In case you were too busy volunteering, in which case you assuredly don't care about anything that actually matters, the Fed brokered a deal that sold troubled investment bank Bear Stearns to JP Morgan Chase for $2 a share. This is big because that bastard James Cayne lost about $950 million in the deal. A year ago, his shares were worth over $1 billion. He just dumped them for $61 million.


Hillary misspeaks

I don't understand why this is news. She does it all the time.


American Airlines grounds 300 planes

The nation's largest airline grounded 300 planes for safety inspections. Every one of the airline's Boeing MD-80s were grounded on the order of a FAA directive that mandated wiring be inspected for proper installation. I can only imagine how inconvenient this was to commercial travellers. Actually, no I can't, because I'm not poor.

Things I can afford that the middle class cannot: private security services

After yesterday's posting I had to double my security detail. Apparently the Church of Scientology deploys some pretty heavy hitters if you make fun of L. Ron, though I really don't know if my security detail is prepared to deal with Xenu and his alien forces. Idiots.

When you are as powerful and rich as me you can afford to say whatever the Sam Hell you feel like. Not only is it incredibly liberating, it's a wonderful power tool. To live in a world with no repercussions is to live in Utopia. However, despite this fact, I choose to employ the best private security contractors in the world and I frequently attend training courses at Blackwater USA.

Many people are not aware that I am licensed to carry a concealed weapon. I'm wearing it right now. It's only one of the most respected handguns in the world: the Browning M1911. I have one in Gold, Platinum and Black and I carry them in one of my custom designed Italian holsters. Today I've paired the platinum with the West African Black Rhino Skin holster (I posses the only one in existence). Often, to intimidate I let my sport coat or suit jacket fall back so the butt of the pistol is exposed. It is really quite humorous.

Do I know how to use it, you ask. I can put a two round group within an inch at 10 yds. Does that answer your question? I learned how to do that at my Blackwater Advanced Pistol course. I'd recommend you attend, but you probably cannot afford to. When you have the money, you really should go. I also suggest the shotgun and highway driving courses. If nothing more, they're simply a great time.

But I digress. My private security team is what I am most proud of. Composed of former Special Forces Operators, my team is prepared to protect me from any type of attack you can imagine. I even employ a few minority operators that blend in when I travel abroad. That way the bad guys don't know the size of my protective detail. Each Operator costs just over $100,000/year to employ. That's over 600 grand a year on security. Most middle-class homes don't cost that much.

How do I afford it?

I don't. My firm employs them on my behalf. Power means not having to spend your own money. Besides, when you work in an industry that specializes in mortgage backed securities, you find that you have many enemies. Rightly, they feel that it is in every one's best interest to protect the executive management team.

Having your own private security detail is a luxury no person of wealth and power should be without. In fact, I dare call it a luxury. Necessity is probably the right term. The sad fact is that there are many who hate us. I'm sure such feelings are based purely on jealousy. And while I do not appreciate being the target of kidnapping plots and assassination attempts (which I am assured there have been many), I do like the attention such plots draw.

And Mrs. Ross likes having them around as well. Often, she requests one be posted in her room at night. She says it makes her feel safer.

Ross' Rules: Go with God

I just got back from celebrating the most wonderful Easter. Really, there is no better place to celebrate His glory and resurrection than on the pristine white sand beaches of the Caribbean. All that I have in my life I owe to Him and there is not a day that goes by that I don’t ask for His forgiveness, nor is there a Sunday that passes when I don’t worship His greatness.

See what I just did there? I created an aura of respect and trust by proclaiming my faith in the Lord. That, my friends, is another one of Ross’ Rules. To be an executive of power one must convey that he is a man of faith, because there is no easier way to earn respect than by embracing Christ.

Think about it, would you question the integrity of your evangelical pastor? Or question the ethics of the Catholic Church? Of course you don’t. To be a Christian is to be beyond reproach. You are indemnified from scandal and scorn.

Who cares if it’s all a front? Like many secrets we keep, no one will ever know.

If you want to make your trip up the Corporate Elevator as easy as possible you must remember to be an active believer and participant in the faith that dominates your geographic area. If you live in the south, you’re a Baptist. West Texas, Catholic. The Northeast, protestant. The Midwest, Lutheran or non-denominational.

I do not care if you actually believe in any of these religions. That, of course, is not the point. What is the point is that your co-workers and bosses think you do.

Just make sure they think you believe in real, Western religions, not fake ones. When in doubt, if it ends with “muslim” or comes from Asia or the mind of a science fiction writer, it’s probably not real.

The Week in Review: 3/16-3/22

I've got to catch a limo to the airport so I'll make this quick, flying to St. Kit's for Easter. Just a little family get together in the Islands. I can think of no better place to celebrate His resurrection.

What happened this week?

Stocks went up. Stocks went down. Democrats bickered. No one cared.

Hallelujah.

Things I can afford that the middle class cannot: The ROM

One of the great passions in my life is looking good. For executives, what is on the outside often matters more than what is on the inside. Though my physician tells me I possess some pretty fit innards.

As you may know I am a very busy man. Do you think I have the time to spend an hour at the gym? Of course I don’t. That’s why I purchased the ROM.


At over $14,000 this wonderful machine costs more than most pre-owned Ford Taurus’s. So, while I can get my workout in only four minutes and get on with more important things, the middle class is forced to huff and puff for hours at a time on their Sears’s treadmills and Chuck Norris wonder machines.

Or do they?

Let’s be honest people. Most middle class people possess neither the discipline nor pride to stick to a workout program. They buy their Sally Struthers’ Thigh Masters and Bowflexes and ingest magic fat pills in hopes that the pounds will melt away. But the reality is that after a week they forget their silly resolutions. They realize that looking good for a spouse who doesn’t care is a waste of energy. They wake up to the reality that being able to walk up a flight of stairs without passing out is not an issue when the building they work in has an elevator. No, these undisciplined excuses for people stuff these colossal wastes of money (surely bought on credit) under the bed or in the closet with the rest of their hopes and dreams. Their treadmill becomes a place to hang their short-sleeved work shirts and wrinkle-free khakis.

But what about those who do have the discipline to diligently work out? I’m not impressed. In fact, that they spend so much time working out illustrates their misplaced priorities. No wonder they’re mired in middle management.

To be an executive means sacrificing your health for position. At least it did before the ROM. $14,000 is a small price to pay for health and power. Just look at what it did for me.