Saturday, December 26, 2015

Review of How to Fail at Almost Everything and Still Win Big: Kind of the Story of My Life

Below is my review of ScottAdams' How to Fail at Almost Everything and Still Win Big: Kind of the Story of My Life as submitted to the editor and appeared in the December 2015 issue of the Sturbridge Times Magazine.



Worked for Him

How to Fail at Almost Everything and Still Win Big: Kind of the Story of My Life

By Scott Adams
Penguin Group, 2013
Hardcover, 231 pages
ISBN-13: 978-1591846918
ISBN: 10-1591846919
List: $27.95 Amazon: $17.10

Book review by Richard Morchoe
If you don't know who Scott Adams is, you may have heard of Dilbert. Dilbert is the non-hero of the comic strip that bears that name. It may or may not be today's most popular strip, but it's hard to think of another as well known since Gary Larson stopped doing The Far Side.

Dilbert chronicles a bunch of cynical cubicle slaves as they deal with corporate America. Adams, drawing on his life in that milieu has become hugely successful. How he got there is the subject of his book, How to Fail at Almost Everything and Still Win Big: Kind of the Story of My Life.

A book with “How to” in the title sounds like a self-help tome. Adams claims it is not. On Page 180 he writes, “This is a good time to remind you that nothing in this book should be seen as advice. It's never a good idea to take advice from cartoonists, and that's a hundred times more important if the topic is health related. I don't know how many people have died from following the health advice of cartoonists, but the number probably isn't zero.”

One might guess the lawyers told him to put that in as he makes a heck of a lot of suggestions and if someone passed away after acting on one, the author could be spending more than a little of his fortune on legal proceedings.

His speculation that at least one person has shuffled off the mortal coil due to following the guidance of cartoonists is dubious. Certainly, more folks have left us because of the advice of the medical establishment. Are carbs okay this week?

Though Adams’ comic strip has a cynical tone, How to Fail is nothing like that. There is a lot of self-deprecation that one would expect from the author of Dilbert. He knows he is not a great artist, but is proud of being an accomplished cartoonist.

As part of his advice to readers, he tells us we should not have goals. The author writes,, “To put it bluntly, goals are for losers.” This seems to go against the reigning success culture. Adams reasons that, “If you achieve your goal, you celebrate and feel terrific, but only until you realize you just lost the thing that gave you purpose and direction. Your options are to feel empty and useless, perhaps enjoying the spoils of your success until they bore you, or set new goals and reenter the cycle of permanent presuccess [sic] failure.”

Instead of goals, Adams believes in systems. He came to that conclusion sitting next to a businessman on a flight to California, when he was succeeding in the “goal” of escaping snowy upstate New York. The fellow told him his “system was to continually look for better options.” This meant he started searching for a new job as soon as he began one.

Dilbert’s creator more or less followed his seatmate's advice over the next several years, in the process no doubt garnering fodder for the comic. He recounts failing at every position yet moving up a rung each time. Eventually, he was told he could go no higher, but not because his incompetence had been discerned. Rather, they were no longer promoting Caucasian ineptness. They were now affirmatively advancing groups that had not been represented in high management. After all, it’s not like we cannot find equal inability among people of other races.

It is worth noting that the two large organizations he mentions most were bureaucracies with many positions that were little more than sinecures. One of them, Pacific Bell, no longer exists, having been swallowed up with much of the busywork being eliminated. The other, Crocker National was also taken over with deadweight being shed. It is unlikely the author could have pulled off what he did at a high tech startup.
Was his experience with continuously moving up from job to job a system or sequential goals? He should get the benefit of the doubt on that one, and it leads us to the subject of “affirmations” that he addresses.

According to Adams, “Affirmations are simply the practice of repeating to yourself what you want to achieve while imagining the outcome you want.” As he explained it, it’s not as new agey as it sounds. He used this form to great effect, “I Scott Adams, will be a famous cartoonist.” Of course that sounds like a goal and your man is no loser.

There is a lot more to How to Fail than systems versus goals and affirmations. Much of it may or may not be great career or life advice. Scott Adams is a good writer with a great sense of humor, but we already knew that from Dilbert. If you get it in your stocking, enjoy it. Don’t mourn if you don’t. The verdict is similar to Samuel Johnson on the Giant’s Causeway, “Worth seeing, but not worth going to see.”

Thursday, December 24, 2015

Straight Outta Spencer

Below is my column from the October 2015 issue of the Sturbridge Times Magazine as submitted.

It's not the largest fair in the world. It's not even biggest in Worcester County. It is, however, sizable in our neck of the woods and it is ours.

The Spencer Fair has to be the most un-hip place in the region. I love it. True, I'm not the country's foremost fan of Demolition Derby, but it's nice to know that there are people who have no problem banging into each other in a beat up old heap.

The plaintive sounds of Country-Western are heard from the loudspeakers on the main stage. Actually, the music is inescapable. With no chance of convincing management to book The Academy of Saint Martin in the Fields, I've long resigned myself to enjoying it. The rumors that my toes tap to some of the tunes are baseless.

Then there is the food. If you are part of Weight Watchers, Paleo, a vegan or kosher, there is something here for you not to like and much to scorn. That's okay, there's more for us who have thrown caution to the wind, at least for the duration.

Pork in most of its forms is available, if not avoidable. After that sausage sandwich, if one cannot find pulled pork, that is underachieving. Cheese fries were one of the first vendors to catch my eye. Normal french fries were also available, though the grease content was probably no less.

Had your minimum daily requirement of fried dough? Did you step it up a bit and get the fried oreo this year? There are strict rules for food safety and a board of health permit is required. One is tempted to think such requirements are superfluous given the nature of the fare.

Though known to give in to temptation after a not overly long struggle, I do tend to like to spend my money at more community based organizations like the David Prouty High School hot dog stand.

Despite all the social changes that have taken place in our country, some are still so retrograde that they judge a young man by the size of the stuffed animal he can win for his love interest at the games of chance. Plus ça change!

None of the rides are scary and appeal mostly to children.

The vendors are many and varied. If mass produced garish tee shirts are how you express individuality, you may find fulfillment.

The Spencer Fair is not just food and the hawking of wares. In truth, agriculture is the soul of the institution. It began in the 19th Century with a local farmer displaying crops across his dining room table. That humble origin led to this year's 127th edition.

There may not be a dining room, but vegetables are all over tables in the exhibition hall The tradition continues with displays competing for the blue ribbon. Almost anything that can be grown in Worcester County is here, from tiny veggies to giant pumpkins. I love to see these behemoths, but it's hard to understand the appeal. You can't eat them and they will soon be almost their own compost pile. I guess it's that we love big. As Josef Stalin said, “Quantity has a quality all its own.”

There is, in the center of the hall a glass bee hive that is a safe way to look at the little critters without getting stung. People hover around the exhibit all day trying to figure out which one is the queen.

Along part of the wall is the 4H table. It is refreshing to see young people out and about speaking enthusiastically about their projects and not obsessed with smart phones.

At one end of the building, life is emerging. First a beak cracks a shell and then with effort a wet, feathered little bird breaks out. It is the perennial favorite chick incubator.

Leaving the hall, we're not done with farm stuff. Integral to the fair is the cow barn. These are purebred animals that have been lovingly raised by the owners and are being shown off in competition. Inevitably, one of the ladies gives birth at her stall to a calf that will soon take its firsts steps. Doubtless, it will be to the gushing of the visitors.

There are tents with amazingly colored chickens and ducks and other fowl. Rabbits as well. Some animals are athletes as oxen and horses compete in feats of strength.

This is Labor Day Weekend at the Spencer Fair. There are larger such events, but they are far from here. This is a cozy, local affair. Would the world notice if it disappeared. Probably not, but something would be lost.

Where I grew up, in the next town there was the homey, little Weymouth Fair. It was part of the civic fabric and was well loved, then it was gone. That town is just an indistinguishable part of the Boston suburban sprawl.

The Spencer Fair reminds me I am a refugee here.