John Y. Brown, III

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Recovering Politician

THEN: Secretary of State (KY), 1996-2004; Candidate for Lieutenant Governor, 2007 NOW: JYB3 Group (Owner) -public affairs consulting firm; Miller Wells law firm (Of counsel) Full Biography: link

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Privacy Policies on the Web

I just always check “I agree to all the terms and conditions” without ever actually reading the fine print of a website privacy policy.

But today I decided to try something different and read a privacy policy I was asked to agree to. In fact, I read several. It all sounded like fairly routine language and, you know, they all have almost identical language. But one section I found hidden in every privacy policy that I found gave me pause. Maybe it is standard boilerplate language but it seemed to stand out to me as somewhat concerning.

jyb_musingsHere it is below in a section of the privacy policy. See the portion in parenthesis.

“We do not sell or rent any part of your information to a third party without your permission unless you opt out, we may use your (Hahahaha your mother wears combat boots you stupid moron!!! Oh, and by the way, your combat-boot wearing mother can’t do anything about all the crazy ways we are gonna make bank by using your personal information even though we pretend we aren’t going to. You just signed your life away. Hahaha!!!) contact information to provide you or others with information we believe you or others may need to know or find useful, such as but not limited to…….”

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Another Brilliant Business Idea

Another brilliant business idea. Sort of.

(Think late night infomercial)

In our more mature years resolving marital disagreements can be challenging.

When couples are younger couple and one spouse (often the male spouse) finds himself in error, there are a variety of conventional methods for remediation. These can range from from taking on extra chores around the house, finally doing yard work put off for too long, visiting in-laws for the weekend, long talks processing feelings, to utilizing the pull out couch in the den over night.

But as you get older a male spouse’s energy level and physical limitations make some of these conventional remedies impractical. Yet a mistake was still made and something has to be done about it.

I propose a new product that allows perjorative things to be written on the offending spouse’s tombstone for an agreed on period of time. The product would be made with a type of disappearing ink after a set number of days, weeks, or in some cases, years depending on what the spouses agree upon is the appropriate period of time for the public humiliation punishment.

jyb_musingsFor example, a tombstone could read:

John Smith 1947- 2026
Loving husband, great father, and dear friend to many
Lazy (2011)
Inconsiderate (2013)
Assh*** (2005)

The last three rememberances could be in the disappearing ink and written out without asterisks with the year the offending behavior occurered in parenthesis. These could be recompense for punishment for mistakes made in the past but during the mature years.

 

The beauty part is there is no painful extra work in the yard to do right now but a satisfactory punishment is still meted out that is appropriate to the misdeed. And remains for everyone to see. At least long enough for everyone the surviving spouse wants to see it. (For example, long enough for all living friends to see but not great grand children)

And for just an extra $9.95 a month the same tombstone message can be placed on the bereavement website for your loved one.

This way, finally, there is a way for both the deceased and their surviving spouse to Rest In Peace.

John Y. Brown, III: R.I.P, Peter O’Toole

How does one say RIP to a man, Peter O’Toole, who once quipped, “I hate the light. I hate weather. Heaven for me is moving from one smoke-filled room to another?”

And to complicate matters further, O’Toole hilariously played an aristocratic delusional man who believed he was God in The Ruling Class. His doctor asks, “When did you realize you were God?” and O’Toole explains, “One day when I was praying I realized I was talking to myself.”

Today we lost, professionally, one of our greatest actors and even greater stage presences; and personally, we lost a preposterously delightful and divinely charming character’s character.

Upon hearing of Peter O’Toole’s death, I kept thinking of the story he told nearly a decade ago about what he wanted written on his tombstone.

After a trip to his dry cleaners’ to drop off his beloved leather jacket, one that he sent in “because it was covered in blood and Guinness and scotch and Cornflakes, the usual,” the jacket was returned with a note pinned on it:

“It distresses us to return work which is not perfect.”

And that’s what Peter O’Toole wants his tombstone. Maybe he’ll get his wish.

There are too many memorable video clips to pick just one. But since one is the limit for a post, this is a fitting one and they way I prefer to remember, Mr O’Toole–whose most magical role as an actor, perhaps, was simply playing himself.

(Start at about the 3:50 mark)

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Being 50

Being 50 years old gives one a lot of advantages over those young upstarts gunning for us in the rough and tumble business world.

But sometimes you try and try and try and try again.

And no matter where you are or who is around or who there is to look to for help….

And no matter how hard you keep trying as everyone around you is watching and waiting and listening and waiting some more….

You just can’t remember what you were going to say.

At least you think you can’t remember it. In fact, you can’t even remember if you forgot what you originally thought you forgot and now realize you may not have even been talking about the topic you thought you had lost your train of thought on in the first place.

It’s not so much embarrassing when that happens as it is liberating.

jyb_musingsSo, you just laugh and go along with it and finish that story just the way you feel it probably was supposed to end. Or at least possibly was supposed to end. Or hope, if it wasn’t the way it was supposed to end, no one notices. Or if they did notice, since they are about your age, maybe they will forget in about 15 minutes.

And if there are any of those young hot shots standing around looking at you and grinning knowingly like a vulture circling its prey before it breaths its final breath, stare them down with a look that says unmistakeably, “All I have to do is make one call and you’ll never work in this industry again. Got that?!”

Now….what were we talking about again?

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: So Close to Happiness

jyb_musingsHow close to happiness?

Today I am just 23 pounds, $300,000, one more college degree, a new room created upstairs from the unused space in the attic, one deluxe car wash, one spring cleaning of my closet (this fall), two car payments, a new cream for my adult eczema, one tuition payment, one mini-marathon, a year of Yoga classes, 3 years of missed time with my daughter and son and wife, a full physical check up, a new dentist, 35 emails, 12 voice mail messages, 3 weekend couple invitations for dinner, 4 meetings for coffee, one meeting for lunch, one really good night’s sleep, a contribution to my IRA, de-duplicating software tool for my contacts on Outlook, one new iPad Air, 4 conference calls, 3 new clients, getting alterations done on the new blue blazer I bought 8 months ago, one gas tank fill-up, some new stationary with my name on it for thank you notes, and one cup of coffee away from true happiness.

So close….

Almost as close as this time last year….

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Tuxedos and Ties

1392978_10153503204655515_1308226904_nWhenever I have to wear a tuxedo, like tonight, I get slightly depressed. Not because of the tuxedo itself but because while dressing I inevitably think of a penguin. Not just any penguin or even a normal penguin but The Penguin, the villian played by Burgess Meredith in the original Batman series. The campy one that everyone seemed to know was campy except me. And that I now realize wasn’t as exciting or thrilling as I thought it was when I watched the series as a boy. And that is depressing.

And thinking of Burgess Meredith playing The Penguin reminds me of the first time I saw the movie Rocky (Rocky I) and how I couldn’t believe Rocky’s hardened streetwise trainer, Mick, used to play a villianous bird in a campy TV series. It made me think less of the movie Rocky. (They should have let the guy who plays Paulie be the trainer. He was never a campy Batman villian and, frankly, added little to the movie playing Rocky’s brother-in-law.) And the fact that Rocky I wasnt as good as it could have been is a little depressing.

But then I am reminded of Burgess Meredith’s early work as the bookworm banker in Rod Serling’s Twilight Zone episode “Time Enough at Last” and then wonder of Rod Serling thought less of this famous episode because Burgess Meredith later would famously play an evil Penguin in a campy TV series that Rod Serling and everyone else knew was campy at the time.

And then I try to remember if Rod Serling would do his Twilight Zone monologues in a tuxedo or just a sharp looking dark suit. I always conclude it was the later and that is a good thing since he is probably already disappointed about Burgess Meredith’s Batman role and didn’t have to be reminded of it everytime he watched a Twilight Zone rerun. That is uplifting to think about. Until I am reminded that Rod Serling died at a young age before his time and I am more depressed than before the uplifting thought about Rod Serling.

There is just no way around it. Wearing a tuxedo is enough to make any guy sad and deprrssed just thinking about all the ramifications that come to mind.

===

jyb_musingsWhy I am not wearing a tie to my afternoon meeting today.

I always keep a sports jacket or two and a tie in my backseat for when I need them for a “jacket and tie” meeting. I don’t like to overdress if I don’t have to but don’t want to be underdressed either. My plan seems to work well most days.

But today I realized while on my way to a “jacket and tie” meeting I had on a plaid button down shirt that would not work with a tie and needed—quickly needed—a plain colored button down shirt. Sometimes I can get by with just a jacket but this one seemed to require a jacket and a tie.

Fortunately, I was about to drive by Jos A Banks and pulled in quickly and parked. But then my mind began to run through what was almost sure to happen.

I would run inside with 6 minutes to spare to purchase a single plain colored button down shirt. I would find my size and the shirt and take it to the counter and hear.

“Hello. What is your name and address? Do you know we are having a sale for “Buy one, get two free for dress shirts?”

I would then, obviously, take advantage of the sale since I would be giving up two free shirts if I insisted on just buying the one. I would now have 2 minutes to go and explain

I am in a hurry and just need the shirt for a meeting and have the jacket and tie in the car where I keep them for occasions like this.

“You know, if you need a tie with that because the one in the car is wrinkled, we are having the same “Buy one, get two” free for neckties or you can “buy one necktie and get any sports coat for half off. I noticed you eyeing the grey plaid sports jacket when you came in.”

“Really?” I would say. “Do you have it in a size 43 R?”

“Yes,” the sale clerk would say and “I have a really smart looking tie for it, too.”
And then, of course, there would be a slacks offering if I buy a shirt tie and jacket where

I could get two for the price of one. And before leaving I would need a pair of shoes for my new outfit too.

So, instead, I’m just going to this meeting today without a tie on. Just a sport jacket.

Because Jos A Banks wouldn’t let me just by a single darned single color plain button down shirt!

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Honest John. The slow motion dream version.

Last night before going to bed I saw a pile of bills my wife had neatly organized for me–totaling $8,100. Maybe that was the impetus for my dream last night.

As I was coming out of the men’s room in a corporation I don’t work for but was just part of my dream, someone tossed me a brick of $100 dollar bills. I couldn’t tell if they were robbing the office or were drug dealers. But after the first brick I somehow got 5 or 6 more as the robbers or drug dealers (remember, it’s a dream and not logical) left the premises.

I couldn’t believe my good fortune. I counted the money and it was about $1,190,000. I counted it several times. And several more times after that.

jyb_musingsI found a friend—interestingly one who is not the most upright but a friend I felt I could trust— and asked what I should do. He thought I should definitely keep it. And give some to him to help me keep it under wraps.

I thought about it and prayed about it (very short prayers, I might add) and decided to keep the money for a second day to think and pray about some more. I just couldn’t be myself and was all jammed up feeling guilty and secretive and decided after about 48 hours to turn in the money –all of it—to the authorities.

This was tricky because so much time (48 hours) had lapsed. I was going to pretend like the money was dropped off in my office at the corporation I don’t really work at but did in this dream and that I just didn’t notice the money for 2 days. But that didn’t seem plausible.So I just pretended like I had missed work one day –the day the million dollars was dropped off in my office—but did notice the over $1M left in my office the next day when I returned to work. That seemed somewhat plausible. Unlike the coworkers in my dream I notice things lime 6 bricks of $100 bills left lying around. Mostly, I just wanted to turn in the darned money and be done with it so I could feel better about myself again.

And maybe I’d get a reward like television. Who knows, maybe 10% or even $10,000. Even if it were the latter it would cover all my bills waiting for me in the hallway.

I turned in the money and felt like the weight of the world (or at least as much as $1,190,000 weighs in $100 bills) had been lifted from me. I was relieved and myself again. And got no reward whatsoever. That only happens on TV not in dreams.

And then the alarm went off. And I got up and sauntered into the kitchen to get a bowl of cereal and saw the pile of $8,100 in bills my wife had neatly organized for me the night before. And I was grateful I didn’t have the money to pay them just yet but I did have a clear conscience and would eventually get them paid.

And that feeling was easily worth a million bucks. Actually more than $1,190,000 to be precise.

John Y. Brown, III: Outrageous Toddlers

I am just hearing about this story, and like most of you, I am completely outraged at what I am seeing, too.

It appears three very young children (one not even a year old) took out an ad blaming their exercise -obsessed mother for each of them being poorly parented and maladjusted. Thanks to their gym-addicted mother.

In this blaring message they are saying to other mistreated children, “You think you have it tough? At least we have a good excuse for our pity party. Does this look like a real mom to you?”

Sure, it can be understandable that a mom with three young children would want to escape to the gym for as long and often as possible each day if the alternative is to chase three toddlers around the house feeding and cleaning up after them. But for the children to “out” their fitness binging mother in this manner in an attempt to publicly shame her into spending more time with them is just how another example of how upside-down our world has become— and how disrespectful of their parents all children (especially very young children) have become.

Sure, it’s easy to see the child on the left is struggling to focus and starved for some basic motherly attention and the child on the right is trying to get noticed and affirmed by anyone or anything who will pay attention to him. And the poor child in the middle of the picture is on the brink of emotional collapse fearing abandonment from a mother he suspects loves doing Pure Barre workouts more than playing Toddler Blocks with him.

But what about parental respect? No one is condoning what this poor physically undernourished and psychologically struggling mother is doing and the devastasting impact it must be having on her three children. But who among us really wants to cast the first stone? Much less have our own children casting those stones at us in such a public and hostile manner?

Children, at long last, have you no decency left? There is nothing aside from sheer public maternal humiliation that you can achieve with this provocative scream for help for your mother….and that will only push her farther down into the emotional black hole she is lost inside. Worse still, your antics may mean missing a critical opportunity –perhaps your only one— for a constructive and professional and, yes, very private intervention on your mom.

You may be stuck with her like this now for the rest of your lives. And if that happens, you have only yourselves to blame.

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: To Judge Others or not to Judge Others

To judge others or not to judge others…. And the seeming paradoxical personality types behind that decision.

It appears to me the most judgmental people I have encountered in life also seem to be the least critical of themselves. In other words, they are ruthlessly hard on other people but seem tough on themselves not at all.

It’s not so much that they give themselves “a pass” —rather it jus.t never seems to occur to them to apply personally the same critiques, criticisms and value judgments they almost instinctively apply to others. They just don’t see the need.

Conversely, those people I have encountered who are the least judgmental (the most accepting and understanding of other people), usually judge themselves the hardest of all. They seem easily to find flaws within themselves but not in others. It’s not that they give other people a pass — it just doesn’t seem to occur to them to bother commenting on others weaknesses, shortcomings and failings that they seem to instinctively acknowledge in themselves. They just don’t see the point.

This does appear to be a paradox but I don’t believe it is at all. In fact, I think it makes perfect sense once understood. Those people who are deeply self-aware —aware of what makes them tick, aware of the things they could and should have done better, the regrets they have, their idiosyncrasies, shortcomings, character flaws and excesses— are far less judgmental of others for these same flaws because they can’t comfortably criticize others for things they know they have done (or could do) themselves. They tend also to be more generous and understanding–both with themselves and others. They may not approve of all parts of themselves but their deeper and broader self-awareness of the whole of themselves including their own imperfect and halting struggles to improve themselves, allows them to grant others the same dignity and respect they have learned to show to themselves.

By contrast, those who are quick to criticize, belittle and denounce the flaws, faults and hypocrisies of others are able to do so because they appear to imagine they are in some sort of protective cocoon that prevents them from ever having to wonder if they have done –or, God forbid, are doing— anything regrettable or foolish in their own life. They rarely appear to be struggling to improve their own personal imperfections but instead, if pressed about themselves, will draw deeper into their cocoon and resist the horrifying notion that they have anything at all to change about themselves. They are, in their view, not perfect– but a finished product that doesn’t need revisiting. They are done. And yet their alter-egos, those who don’t seem naturally inclined to scold, when confronted about a need to take a closer look at themselves, do so reflexively and gladly, comfortable in the knowledge they will be better off for the effort.

They are never done. Nor need cocoons to protect them.

Those who feel less inclined to judge others, I believe, are that way because they are able to lay down their pre-conceptions about themselves, others, and the world we all live in.

They learn at some point that the things they “think” they dislike about themselves, others and the world aren’t necessarily true. In other words, it’s not the “truth” they are upset about but the story they are assuming is true about themselves or some person, situation or circumstance. Often a story they have never questioned and in many cases aren’t even aware or even know where it came from or why they believe it. It’s just there. As a sort of invisible anchor responsible for their world view.

jyb_musingsUntil one day they realize, often serendipitously, that something that they are mad about—some perceived personal flaw in themselves or another, some characteristic about another person or some unfair bias they see in a life situation working against them, isn’t what they thought it was at all. In fact, it may even be the exact opposite. The actual motive, reason, excuse, cause or purpose of something that has fueled their angst for many years is unmasked as false or non-existent.

At that moment, these individuals truly get a glimpse of what a “blessing in disguise” really looks like. They learn a silver lining isn’t a lining at all but often just a clearing up of their own misconception based on the inability to see more than they—or any of us— are capable of seeing clearly at an earlier time.

Maybe this kind of humbling epiphany happens several times before these individuals really change. But at some point they realize that they are mad more at their preconceptions about the world than they are about the world itself —and as those preconceptions dissolve they are replaced by wisdom.

The more rigid and judgmental, it seems, take an opposite tack. They choose a course requiring them to spend a much greater deal of time trying to prove to themselves and others that the world does, indeed, fit into the cramped preconceptions they hold fast to with an increasing tenacity. It can be, to those observing, like watching a grown man who believes he can still fit into the same favorite outfit he wore as a self-assured boy. Or to be even more metaphorical, like a grown person trying to cram the world they are discovering into a cramped container they used as a child to fit their world into so that it made sense.

It isn’t that all their old ideas are wrong. It’s just that their container, comforting and familiar as it is, doesn’t have room for any new ideas. And there seems to be no inclination to make room by discarding old ideas that don’t work anymore. After a while the life of these individuals starts to seem more about protecting that old and comforting container they are trying to fit their world into rather than about discovering and understanding the world they are experiencing each day.

Their less critical brethren don’t cease to judge or make discriminating decisions. They just do so with a increasing awareness of the limited understanding on which they are making their life decisions. The awareness of what they “don’t know” turns out to be a compliment, not a threat, to what they do know. And humbly embracing what they don’t know becomes, ironically, one of the greatest and most useful tools for living in their life toolbox. And to stay with the metaphor, these individuals seem to have replaced their small and rusty container with an ever-changing and growing toolbox to help them navigate the world they encounter each new day. Their life becomes more about living forward with this malleable toolbox than living backward with a cramped container they aren’t sure how they ever came into possession of in the first place.

The “life container” and “life toolbox,” of course, represent a person’s world view. How a person views and navigates the world. Is life something that is “understood and done” or something else that we should face with greater humility and openness?  At least that is what I am trying to communicate in my own inartful and inadequate way.

In trying to sum up what I am trying to say, it would sound something like this: “The more we are aware of what we don’t know — and acknowledging that what we believe we do know could just as easily be false –the more knowledgeable and informed we become. And the more confident and peaceful we find ourselves with the decisions we make. The more open we are to serendipity and Grace. And the richer our lives seem to become.”

In other words, yes, “Knowledge is Power.” But knowledge coupled with the humility of understanding how little we still know —or can ever know — is even more powerful.

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Just Write It!

Everybody has at least 603 thoughts or memories or reflections or random thoughts or nonsensical ramblings in them that they can write about. It’s a fact. You may think you don’t, like I did once. But you are wrong. Trust me. I know. From first hand experience.

About 2 years and 8 months ago, my friend Jonathan Miller asked me to write a biweekly column for his new blog (one column every two weeks). I agreed and wrote the first column for the blog’s launch in March of 2011. It was well received and now it was time to write my next column but I lacked the time or discipline to put together another 1000 word piece.

Jonathan was eager to get that second column and I told him I was working on it…even though I really wasn’t. I was trying to think about something to write about…which is sort of like working on it but not really.

Jonathan reminded me he had offered me no pay for this venture. Just the satisfaction of getting to write (even if no one ever reads it other Jonathan, me and my mom) and I was cheating myself of this personal satisfaction. I naturally felt bad about all the personal satisfaction I was missing out on but mostly felt guilty because I couldn’t think of a second substantive column for Jonathan’s new blog.  Jonathan gave me an extension until mid-April and I took full advantage of it using the Derby (which was still 3 weeks away as the reason for not being able to write a second column). I convinced Jonathan that after Derby had passed my mind would clear and a second column would be forthcoming ASAP, even though  I don’t even bet on horses.

By June, a month after Derby had come and gone, I told Jonathan …..something. I don’t even remember what. But I told him I was still working on my second column and just needed a little more time. In July I pointed out it was summer vacation. Not for me but for my kids. And that it would may be August before the second piece would be fully ready.

With school starting in September, I had to ask for another extension for my second column. It had now been 6 months and I was 12 columns behind. Jonathan’s wonderful and very wise wife, Lisa, reminded Jonathan that “John is just like this sometimes and for some reason we still like him, more or less, and have for many years.”  That seemed to help and bought me a little more time—at least through the end of October, for my big second post. Thanks, Lisa!

With the holiday season approaching it only made sense that I may need a little extra time to put the finishing touches on what I had apparently been working on for nearly 8 months now. And Jonathan patiently agreed.

jyb_musingsI have a phrase I like to use in situations like this. And use it often. It goes like this. “If you’ll just give me one more chance, I swear I won’t let you down again. Really. I mean it this time.” And I used it on Jonathan….and bought myself another two weeks.

It was about this time that Jonathan had a brilliant idea. He noted that we were Facebook friends and I had recently posted several silly things just for fun. Jonathan said, “Look, John. I can’t wait another 8 months for you to get me a second column but I have an idea. How about you continue to write these posts on Facebook about whatever you want whenever you want. They can be serious or silly; random or timely; about what you are eating or what you are thinking. It doesn’t matter. Just write. Whatever you feel like writing about. Take a few minutes each day and post it. At the end of each week, I’ll collect a few of them and run them the following week as John Y’s Musings from the Middle on the Recovering Politician blog. What do you think?”

That was around Dec 1st. I asked for two weeks to think about it and finally said, “I can’t think of any more excuses, Jonathan. OK? You got me. But what if I don’t have much more in me to say?”

I don’t remember what Jonathan said. I’m not even sure I asked this question. But I sure did worry about it.  Anyway, as it turns out I have already come up with 603. In fact, this is 604. Like most the others, it has my trademark rambling confidently toward no particular destination. At least not a very important one. I thought I would run out of silly random things to say at about 20 posts. Maybe 30….45 at the outside. But I was wrong! And you may be too if you don’t feel you have much to say.

Dig deep. There is a lot of deep thoughts, absurd thoughts, pointless nonsense and seemingly sensible things you have to write that may or may not be important. But write them anyway. Who knows. Maybe a lot more will come pouring out. And it’s not a matter of the more you write the more you’ll teach others. Not at all. But the more you write the more you’ll learn about yourself.

And if you are reading this and asking yourself, “What is the point of all this, John?” If you were expecting a point, I really can’t help you much with that. But don’t feel like reading this entire post was a total waste. Think of it this way. If you read this far you now have something in common with my mother and Jonathan and me. I doubt anyone else read this far. Sorry. But we now have this common bond that the four of us have having read this post.  And I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.

But let me ask you this, Would you rather read 602 more of my posts or start coming up with 603 of your own rambling thoughts, ideas, musings, insights or attempts at humor?  So…..Go for it! And know the hardest part isn’t writing the 603rd post or 457th post or 123rd post or the 19th post or even the very 1st one. It’s that dang 2nd one. It is a bear! Trust me. And may take up to 8 months to finish it. But if you can get past that second one,  you are one your way. And even though, like me, you probably won’t be getting paid anything for it, as Jonathan Miller reminded me, it’s the personal satisfaction that you’ll get. I’m glad I did it  And glad Jonathan kept prodding me. Thank you, Jonathan! And Lisa!  And I hope you don’t cheat yourself out of the personal satisfaction of your own writing either.

Let ‘er rip!

Just Write It!

John Y.’s Video Flashback (1995):

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