Romney And Obama Are Missing The True Message: Stop American Bosses From Bullying Employees

Disciplining yourself to write daily may come across as a challenge but in reality it's nothing more than a good habit. Kind of like brushing your teeth, combing your hair or hitting Face Book the moment you get to work. Ok, maybe that one's not so good. Although Julia Cameron believes we were "All" born to write. The lack of seeing others releasing wind from their creative imaginations says to me, "You're a frickin freak!" There's a major difference between being a writer and an author. I find no energy in releasing books. My first publication came with empty emotions. I wanted that Olympic feeling of jumping around a room and shouting out thoughts of celebration. I remember sitting on the sofa and softly saying, "This is incredibly embarrassing." Ask me to pen out wedding vows for a Bride and Groom and I explode with excitement! Slip me into a recording studio with an advertising client and instantly the radio guy leaps out of me into a pair of listener tennis shoes. I truly miss being that person. The innocent listener that thinks radio people pick the music. The listener that's convinced there's always a party. The listener that mistakenly discovers a new song on the radio and is convinced Maroon 5 wrote it especially for them. Writing daily doesn't make me a better radio person. The act of writing opens my imagination to the innocence of forever being the listener. I never know what mood I'm gonna be in. Six seconds after waking everything around me finds tremendous passion in listening to unforgettable music played by birds and late night merriment frogs that have waited impatiently for the sun to rise. The moment a writing instrument slips into place all that music is swapped out by a set of lungs that have chosen to expand by way of sending out an internal email that gently shouts out to the heart, brain and stomach, "Oh crap! Who will he be today?" If there's to be an ego present it never arrives while ink pours into the veins of a tree said to have lived to one day be a page. The ego of a writer isn't fed by overconfidence but having the courage to come back to what had been written in days long gone and yet the rounded message shared can fit into any square corner. Labor Day Weekend 2012... the newsman said, "A newly released report from Career Builders claims 75% of all American employees believe they're being bullied at work by bosses." Two years ago...this very weekend. I had already approached this subject and to this day I've yet to see change. Why do we need three days off? Friday 09-03-2010 10:09am ET Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Labor Day Weekend! During these modern days of extra work with barely enough pay one can’t help but be tremendously shocked that this 72 hour coffee break still exists. There’ll come a time when a mid-Sunday conversation with your grandchild will burst from its hidden clutches, “I am truly part of the final generation to enjoy the good old days.” Lawmakers consistently chastise China for their working conditions but no United States Senator, member of the House of Representatives or Mayors office has pulled off an American investigation into the weakening of the arms, legs and backs of what once stood tall as the world’s most productive people. Small business is a joke…they’re seen as beginners with big hopes and fantasies and within an unexpected breath they are eaten up by large corporations with fancy lawyers paid to do nothing more than keep a onetime powerful American imagination near or below the poverty level. The only competition on today’s business home front is between two employees fighting over who gets to sit by the window. Raise your hand if you work just because you need insurance. I didn’t come to this computer page to rat on the pyramid of leaders who’ve continued to make millions after they’ve sliced their work forces to an extremely thin performance. It’s accepted behavior. We’ve drank the Kool-Aid. We walked right into this haunted house of a recession with no train tracks to lead us out. This Labor Day Weekend; spend time in the bathroom mirror staring into the eyes that have been with you since birth. Watch the home videos they’ve created. Study your reactions to actions generated by department heads and ask yourself, “Did I become who I am because of what I did or am I what they failed to make me?” Change will not incur until we as a people recognize the importance of what being at work once meant to a growing people that came from places deeply dampened by crooked cowards that gained access to decision making. Nobody lifts their voice of concern any more. My stepfather Joe would be laughed out of town while being labeled a loud mouth trouble maker. Mom constantly told me of the 30’s and 40’s being the worst of times—having to work in bullet factories as a teen to help her family survive. She still tells the tale of tall businessmen walking slowly down each unpainted row demanding more energy from the workers because there was always somebody else who could make bullets faster. But quickly she’ll change the subject officially declaring those early years as the best of times, leaving me in a state of confusion. One minute they’re horrible while at times she sounds as if she’d like to one day return. September 3, 2010…the gateway to Labor Day Weekend…if you could, where do you wanna go back to? Was there a time in your life when struggles were still looked upon as being innocent, fresh and new? If we truly are the final generation to endure the good old days…where on your built in GPS system did you feel safest? Rather than wasting your time with happy Arroe trials and trails…I leave you with a burst of belief. If I were your boss there would be reason to believe in you…because it’s you, yourself and whom ever you want to be that builds the necessary confidence to put a thought into motion. In a world fed by a driving need to be an arm chair business quarterback, the last thing you require is a purpose to retire. Relocate that zone you call your own. Find it to be everything you left it to be. And when you return locate the strength to shake its hand not once but everyday thereafter. For who you are today is always behind until you step up and realize dreams never die, they patiently wait until you’re through with your day…then visit you late, late at night. We don’t have to be the final workings of a people assumed unstoppable. Bosses come and go just like three day weekends meant to honor the work force. Without you they’ll probably find another but you without you is a mission like no other. While still staring into those eyes in the bathroom mirror whisper this short sentence, “I will never fire. You are my strength when I’m tired. You are the air in the balloons that lift me over tall, tall mountains. You are me and if you don’t mind…I’m going to start calling you my best friend.” Labor Day Weekend was designed to honor the hard working backbone of a nation so powerful others had but one choice to follow. You are in the business of you…if there’s one lesson to learn, don’t treat yourself like today’s modern day boss. Always take care of the people that make your business succeed. Take care of you.