Choices, choices…

The days are full of frenetic activity–phones ringing with questions to be answered and orders to be entered, the door jangling every few moments as folks come and go, and in between, the bustle of regaining equilibrium.  There is no time to get ahead of the game, no leisure to take a quiet break with a cup of coffee, so I take quick sips between periods of communication on the phone and entries in the database.  Lunch is a farce, the odd sandwich eaten, inhaled seemingly, between tasks.  I can’t remember when I’ve had an uninterrupted period of time during the workday to sit and dine, ruminating lazily while discussing the day’s schedule or current events.

I’m still trying to decide if this is how I want it, or if it’s just the way things have to be.  A wise friend once reminded me that we do the things that are important to us.  The arguer in me immediately answers with the perpetual “but” and adds reason upon reason why our lives are filled with activity and then, I’m reminded that every one of the activities is the result of our choices.  In our business, choices in products to be sold result in a certain level of customer interaction…hours of operation distribute the customers differently throughout the day…media choices determine the scope of engagement, with one line for the telephone demanding a small amount of time, more lines adding to that, and national toll-free lines multiplying the attention needed exponentially…even the choice (or maybe especially the choice) to utilize the internet as a business medium adds innumerable hours of labor to the already crowded days.

This freedom to choose extends to our personal lives, as well as to our families and friends.  We choose to live in a certain neighborhood, enforcing on us the necessity of keeping a nice yard, trimming the shrubbery, and raking leaves.  Owning our own home, forces the expense of upkeep, paint, and taxes.  Having relationships with family and friends coerces us into social events, birthdays, anniversarys, and other scheduled activities, as well as a certain amount of financial obligation, to say nothing of the emotional commitment.  All of these requirements are the direct and indirect result of those choices.

The beauty of our lives is that we have the option of making these choices every day.  I hear of people who feel trapped by their lives and the regimen that seems to entangle them.  I’ve felt the sense of being cornered more than once myself.  But overarching those feelings and the despair that helplessness can leave in its wake, is the knowledge that we are here by choice.  We could opt, if we wished, to abandon it all, walking away from the whole package, but we’re held here by the fabric of who we are, the totality of what we choose to believe, and life choices we’ve made because of what we believe.  I would submit that this fabric is our integrity and is a blessing and not a burden.

The very word “integrity” comes from the Latin “integritatem”, meaning oneness or whole.  The essence is that of a piece of  fabric, woven together with threads which fit into the pattern, each adding to the strength and beauty of the whole, until you have the completed product, the cloth.  Each choice we make is a thread which adds to the complete fabric, good choice upon good choice, decisions made with our intellect and heart, daily adding to the integrity of a life well lived.

We could choose to tear up the fabric and start over.  It’s been done many times.  But the result is chaos and pandemonium, not only for the one tearing up, but for those who have chosen to be a part of his or her life.  Our life choices always affect more than just ourselves, it’s impossible to live in a sealed vacuum.  We almost certainly will never know how many people depend on us and our availability, our steadfastness.  I am hopeful that all of you who chance to read this understand that you are needed and important.  You contribute to the larger fabric, the integrity of your world.  If you decide to drop out, I guarantee you’ll leave a hole.  And, guess what?  Where you leave a hole, there’s no longer integrity and the fabric around will suffer, and strain, and tear.

I’ll take the busyness, the frenetic pace, and the fatigue, thanks!  I look back on the choices, good and bad, the good ones showing as clean, solid lines in the fabric, the poor ones knotted and faded, but all of them making up the whole, the integrity of my life.  I’m not completely happy with it yet,  but I think I can see that it’s a worthwhile project.  And I believe I’ll keep heading the same direction.   My little patch seems to adjoin the patches of some very fine people as I stay the course I’m on.

“…Choose you this day whom you will serve…but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”
(Joshua 24:15)

“To live is to choose.  But to choose well, you have to know who you are and what you stand for,where you want to go and why you want to get there.”
(Kofi Annan, former secretary-general of the UN, 2001 Nobel Peace Prize winner)

Doesn’t the bad guy wear the black hat?

“Eighty dollars for the guitar and twenty for the amplifier.  That sound all right to you?”  Once again, I’m bargaining with a young man for an instrument that I don’t really want, but he needs to sell.  He’s the third person in my store today with something to sell, not because they’ve decided to quit playing music, but because money is tight and they need to come up with the cash to take care of “living expenses”.  The mom with her toddler who was here earlier had a similar problem, but she also brought me a dilemma, along with the guitar case and guitar shaped object (GSO) she carried.  You see, I’ve promised never to put any of that brand of instruments on my rack again, simply because I don’t think they’re quality guitars.  Oh, a few of the specimens are okay, but overall, they seem to have a multitude of inadequacies, which I cannot overlook and will not foist off on my customers.  What to do?

As you might expect, a few dollars lighter in the bank account, the business now owns this cool looking guitar, which sports a facsimile of the semi-semi-noteworthy guitarist/pitchman in his flat black bolero hat, who hawks his inferior wares on your television set.  I’m not a fan.  He claims to play the guitars he sells, but if the secondhand examples which I have seen are any indication, my guess is that most mediocre guitarists wouldn’t keep one of them for long, much less a professional, such as he claims to be.  I’m not surprised to find that his claims to fame (e.g., student of one of the greatest classical guitarists in our time, Andres Segovia and endorsed by the same) are disputed by many  experts in the field.  I’m even appalled by the price people fork out for a barely adequate instrument, only to find that it has plunged in value from the moment it left the warehouse.

But, the absolute affront, in my consideration, is that the man’s real name (first and last) is actually the same as my given name, Stephen Paul.  I might be able to forgive the man for selling a cheap product for too much money, but to have the same name on top of that, well…Words fail me.

Having wandered far afield, I’ll make my way back toward my original subject and say that I’m faced almost daily with judgment calls like this one and many which are more confounding.  One gentleman came in with a similar dilemma (a guitar brand that was taboo) and then added to that by telling me that the tight spot he was in came because of a late night visit to the casino after imbibing a bit too much alcohol.  I’m still ruminating the wisdom of my decision as I also ponder how to market the other GSO that now sits in my back hallway.  If any of you readers have the solution to either problem, I’d love to be let in on the secret.

But, my real target tonight is integrity.  I mention the huckster to set the stage.  This play of life in which we are all acting often surprises me, sometimes in a wonderful, positive way, but often recently, with gloomy and unfortunate situations.  The gentleman I first mentioned who had the guitar and amplifier to sell, quickly agreed to my price.  One hundred dollars was fine with him.  As I prepared to pay him, I happened to think that the wholesale blue-book might show the amplifier to be worth a little more than my offer, so I suggested that I should check the value.  As I started my search, I heard, without it really registering, the muttered words, “Yeah, you wouldn’t want to pay too much.”  Then, I found the amp model in the list and noticed that it recommended paying thirty dollars for this particular unit.  I returned to the customer and told him that I would pay him ten dollars more than originally agreed upon and his reaction was one of complete surprise.  He had expected a reduction in my offer, not an increase.  After he received payment, he shook my hand vigorously, and thanked me profusely for being fair with him.

As he left, I was struck by the incongruity of his muttered statement as I searched for the price, with his effusive praise for my fairness in the transaction.  Why should he expect that I was going to back out of our agreement to his detriment?   Was it just a natural cynicism or was it a reaction programmed by experience?  Isn’t it true that in our society, we expect to be cheated and taken advantage of?  The huckster sitting center stage and strumming the inferior product, that is less in quality than it is touted to be, is the rule (or at least the perceived rule) and not the exception that it should be.

We are pleasantly taken aback by a business or individual who is honest and forthright, while acting almost dispassionate about chicanery.  This ought not to be.  Integrity should be the standard in our dealings with each other.  It’s about time that the players who are center stage in this play should be the heroes and not the villains.

I have a favorite car lot with which I try to do business whenever I’m looking for a vehicle.  The reason?  Several years ago, they sold my father-in-law a car.  No, not a car, a lemon!  For a full year, he paid for repair after repair and finally took the car back to trade in on a different one.  Upon hearing of his experience with the vehicle, the owner of the car lot gave him, in trade, not only the full price he had paid originally, but all of the additional amount he had spent on repairs in the intervening time.  Now that’s integrity!  And that’s the kind of business I want to trade with.

Ten dollars difference.  That’s all it took for me to act with integrity today.  Sometimes honesty costs dearly and other times, it’s as easy as just doing the right thing.  Both of them, the large and small choices, are what make up a life of integrity.  “Choose you this day whom you will serve…”



“No amount of ability is of the slightest avail without honor”
(Andrew Carnegie)