TRUE CAPITAL, CHARACTER & Joe the Plumber

“I've never been able to understand why a Republican contributor is a 'fat cat' and a Democratic contributor of the same amount of money is a 'public-spirited philanthropist'.” --President Ronald Reagan

The Final 2008 Presidential Debate: Last night I stayed awake for most the Presidential debate. I was wide awake during all comments about “Joe the plumber.” I have to say that Joe the aspiring business owner from Ohio stole the show and, of course I connected with it, because I have been an “average Joe.”

Obama’s blunder: Senator Obama may have lost the election because of just an average Joe, and now must regret talking to the plumber from Ohio. Answering a question that he was interested in “spreading” Joe’s “wealth around” if he made over $250,000 a year was like revealing he was going to play "Robbing" Hood on the middle class job creator. Days ago paying higher taxes was called “…time to be patriotic” by another “Joe;” Senator Biden, Obama running mate.

America’s Joe from Ohio uncovered the hidden truth about Obama and Biden’s redistribution of wealth plan and showed how out of touch they are with small business owners, and what constitutes wealth in middle America. He asked a simple question about taxes and found out that his “dreams of wealth” could not be achieved unless he “spread” his gains around; courtesy of the Obama Administration hopefuls. With all the costs of doing business, including payroll contributions, worker’s comp insurance premiums, liability insurance premiums, expansion capital, etc. $250,000 is HARD EARNED, and can be lost overnight without extreme business oversight and diligence.

I KNOW JOES' DREAM: I was a small builder that started a construction business with $900 dollars severance from a Police Dept. in May 1984 with a need to care for a young family, and a desire to make something of myself. I was constantly struggling to do all the work I could physically do to keep control of quality and dollars in our pocket. It was extremely difficult. If I had known what I was in for, especially with regards to six day work weeks, 12 hours a day for twelve years, and then losing nearly one million in California real estate and other business value during a deep real estate recession of 1991-1995, I wouldn’t have had the heart.

But it was MY dream... AND we had a great life. Hard work didn’t hurt me at all, and we enjoyed the “fruit of our labors” during the Reagan tax-cut years. I had proved I could start with under $1,000, and simply started over once again in 1994.

A NEW DREAM: There were no handouts, welfare payments, or government interventions when I was in a hospital bed, just back from near-death after the second life-saving blood transfusion in as many years. It was May 1997. I got a call from a literary agent. We had no income, no health insurance, and no job. I had chosen to “start over” in spite of it all. I had a “dream” to write. That dream then and now included making a fine income, and building wealth from my new self-employed risk taking. I had three tubes coming out of my body when I was told I would make a $250,000 “Advance” for The Last Valentine, my first of seven novels. It was hard work and risky to get from bankrupt “bad news” to the hospital bed “good news” where I recieved the welcome phone call. But I had a dream, and have once again benefited from a land that didn’t “spread my wealth around” but allowed me to dream big enough to grow a new business.

THE POINT: “Spreading wealth around” needs to be a private choice and not a “social” experiment run by a government. The character it takes to be self-employed, take no paydays for sometimes months at a time, and build something from just an idea can’t be appreciated by the non-participating “receiver” of my hard earned “wealth.” In fact without hard work the “welfare” recipients put on my payroll by a government mandating my charity expect to not be asked to contribute to my dream and business vitality. Class envy is enevitable when the government decides who should prosper and how and it cannot produce wealth. Such socialism cannot solve budget deficits, cannot provide new value or help someone develop the personal characteristic that fosters profit for a truly wealthy economy and personal life. Taxing wealth cannot produce more of it.

WHAT WORKS: Work works. Hard work, freedom to earn and work at whatever we chose without the fetters of government will solve the present economic crisis.

Capital, Values and CHARACTER: At the end of the day, it’s all about the essence of capital: value and character. The greatest “capital” created in any economy is the personal capital of the American man or woman with a dream. Incentives to better ourselves and personal lifestyles contribute to wealth. The dream begins it, hard work continues it, and the realization of profit takes it to a new level.

THANKS JOE! Your question clarified what America is all about in spite of our politicians inability to do so.

James www.jmpratt.com & www.powerthink.com

FOOTBALL, LIFE, AND "HEART"

In Football and Life, It Takes "Heart"

The "Slight Edge" for Individual Success

ELEVATOR VERSION

I love football. I love how a little guy gets away with clobbering a bigger guy and no offense is taken. If it is, I love how teammates flood a zone to help you out in the legal brawl. I love the strategy of moves and counter moves where 11 men do their job anticipating 11 other trained players doing their job to stop them. The grace under pressure of a QB or running-back making it look so simple...the connection of ball to man to end zone -- though hundreds of hours of practice have gotten ball to man to end zone... I love the camaraderie, the execution of plays, and in the end I love the "heart" it takes to be your best, and win. In it resides what might be called "the slight edge" for individual success.

It's "pre-season" again. It has me thinking about all that football taught me. I have to say that it may have been the three years in Simi Valley's High School football program that set the course for the rest of my life of achievements where excellence is a factor. Any former player reading this knows what I'm talking about. Similar to a Soldier or Marine who learns discipline as a team player to get the job done, and has too much honor to "quit" ... well, you'll have to read the rest of the story to know where I'm going.

It was 1970 and I desperately wanted to “start” as running back for the Varsity football team, my final season at Simi Valley High School. I had worked hard the previous three years, had a couple of “lucky breaks” where I scored, but I was not the biggest, nor fastest runner on our team. I was as determined as anyone, willing to take the hits, but besides loving the game, that was about the extent of my talents.

The “heir-apparent” to Joe Gonzalez, the all league standout from the previous years was a tough, stocky, but even shorter than I was, Bobby Hernandez. The thing I liked about Bobby is that fullbacks “open” up holes for the less bulky half-backs to run through. Bobby wouldn’t let me or another starter running-back down. He would launch into a well placed block on any one any size without hesitation. I watched him during the August “two-a-days” when I knew we were all being judged for the “starting roster.” Eleven men on offense, eleven on defense, and the same for “specialty teams,” I came in second team to the fastest kid in Ventura County, Eddie Martinez, a junior. Bobby had two things: determination and "heart..."

STAIRCASE VERSION

There was a big difference between Bobby and Eddie, and it became apparent when Eddie would show up late, be found out about his drinking, and generally display an attitude that really fast guys sometimes have – it is a, “you need me coach” mentality that causes them to push the limits of a coach’s patience where rule breaking is concerned. Bobby Hernandez, on the other hand taught me a big lesson on how I could work on “catching up” with a more nimble, quick half-back, the open field speedster Eddie.

The lesson came on a day when a lot of us lacked the “hustle” that Coaches Meinke, Paris, and Cratty knew we would need to be competitive. I was exhausted; we all were. During drills Coach Paris stopped the practice with his whistle and chewed us out, and then added, “Bobby Hernandez seems to be the only player on this field who will do what I ask, not mouth off, slack off, or make excuses for himself. Bobby is steady. Bobby has heart. If the rest of you sorry excuses for offensive players were like Bobby, you’d be guaranteed the starting line-up and probably win every game! Now let’s get some wind sprints done!” Coach Cratty added, “Not only does this boy have heart, but he gives 150%. Time for wind sprints!” Bobby was not exempted from the group punishment.

The coaches ran us until we all dropped, but I kept my eye on Bobby. I finally had the key to winning my starting position. I would whittle away at speedster Eddie’s heels by being not only on time, but first to show hustle, keep the rules with exactness, never slacking off, saying “yes sir” with no excuses, and doing 150%. From that moment on (and I never told Bobby this) fullback Bobby Hernandez was my example. Bobby wasn’t faster than Eddie or me; but he was “steady” and he had “heart.”

It wasn’t long in to the season when Eddie showed up late for practice, having gotten drunk the night before. The coaches knew they were going to hurt their chances of getting those glorious touchdowns that simply come from faster foot work by a field-and-track sprinting star like Eddie. Eddie got "luckier" at scoring than I did, and more often because of "speed," but lacked the "red-hot" desire; the heart, to be number #1.

It took a lot for them to need “number 21 Pratt.” The reward for my efforts finally came in the third game of that season. For the next four games I started. I played with all my heart, but couldn’t match the speed of former running back Martinez and everyone knew it. Yet, with each carry I gained confidence. Bobby and I were a pair of running-backs on the same train going from one end-zone to another. He'd blow open a "hole" and I'd follow him through. Two hearts willing their way to the common goal beats one "lucky" primadonna anyday.

See--There is no "luck" involved with heart power. The “will to win" is more than a mental attitude; it is desire actualized. When "internalized" deep enough, this desire to suceed turns into a "white-hot imperative" helping the determined soul to perform feats that a weaker-willed, but talented person, will not do. Many have called this "the slight edge."

I was going to grow into the position and not let my team mates down. Maybe even play college ball! The night of the biggest game of my life, against number #1 ranked Newbury Park High School where one of my best friends was team captain, came. It was big for me because this good friend, Michael Carlisle, bragged about how they knew I was good at the "27 and 28 Sweep" and were going to “nail me” as he put it. It was also big because it was "Father and Son Night," and my Dad would be lined up on the field with the other Dads and then sit in the stand with Number 21 pinned to his shirt to let everyone known who his son was.

Long story short, it had rained, the field was a mud bowl, and I was playing my heart out. I recall hearing my name announced and cheers from the crowd as often as I ran with the ball, and was making good on my promise to make the "28 Sweep" work. I wanted my Dad to be proud. I knew it would take all the heart and soul in me to win ground against a superior ranked team. I took a lot of guff from my friend Mike Carlisle* team captain for Newbury Park High, and it now was “put up or shut up time.” We met several times on the muddy field that night. In fact, I was laughing my way to the end zone the last time he took a crack at me.

I couldn't know it, but it would be my final game, and the last time I wore pads when the final moment of glory came. Near the end of the first half, I could see pure “end zone” through my laser focused eye-sight, encased in home school maroon and gold helmet, but couldn’t see one of Mike Carlisle’s team mates about to cream me – blindside left. With full extension, my left knee was hit. I sailed for a few more yards, and then tried to stand up, yards away from the goal. Two things happened that stand out in my mind. My opponent eagerly offered a generous, “Come on man. Stand up. Stand up.” Then two teammates rushed to help me off the field; Mike Myers and Bobby Hernandez, both 150% “heart” players.

My season over, Dad came into the locker room at half-time, having seen his son for the first time play varsity ball, and my football glory days came to an abrupt end – or did they? I had made my Dad proud – and had wanted that. I had earned “first team” and had wanted that. I learned more than a little about playing life with “all your heart.” How could the 17 year-old ever know what Coach Paris word's about Bobby Hernandez’s example and hustle would mean? Those words still serve me each and every day of my life. When life knocks me down, "Bobby has heart" rings in my ears and I see myself getting up once more, having self-respect, doing my best, and having the heart to live up to any task.

Whereever I have been in life since, and whatever tough life circumstance I have been asked to deal with, I recall those glory days knowing having a lot of “heart” worked for Bobby, and worked for me – Having heart makes all the difference in personal success and will take you through to the "end zone."*

* Mike Carlisle would lose his life in San Salvador on May 29, 1973 serving others as a Mormon Missionary. Others who played on Simi's field served with honor giving their lives for country. The "end zone" just came for my quarterback one month ago. SEE July 11th post,"RETURN TO INNOCENCE."