On Saturday March 17th, and in the days following, there will be numerous mass demonstrations against the war in Iraq. Most likely the largest of the gatherings will be the march on the Pentagon.

That weekend marks the fourth anniversary of the beginning of this war. And this year, 2007, happens to be the 40th anniversary of the historic 1967 anti-war march to the Pentagon during the Vietnam War. The message of the 1967 march was “From Protest to Resistance,” and is believed to have been a significant turning point in national sentiment. Let’s send a similar proclamation to the world this time around: we won’t stand for this!

I urge anyone and everyone reading these words to participate in the protests scheduled during this March weekend. While I was a college student in northern Wisconsin in the fall of 1967, regrettably I was not yet actively engaged in “the movement;” I was not at the Pentagon that time. And, while I won’t be at the Pentagon this year either, I have made plans to march in San Francisco on Sunday March 18th. It’s time to stand and be counted. And let’s all be counted…by the tens of thousands, by the hundreds of thousands and more…as opposed to this insanity!

It’s not far away. Make plans now. I’ll see you in San Francisco!

Do you believe that you know the truth when you hear it?

This morning, near the end of a long, otherwise-waste-of-time meeting, those of us in attendance were asked to provide feedback about a recent workshop experience. Now, given that I had been unable to attend that particular event, I was obviously unable to offer up any commentary.

So, I sat and just listened.

The first person to speak happened to provide some quite-critical remarks. But, he did it in a very gentle, thoughtful and articulate way, and it was obvious that he was speaking from the heart.

Ahhh, I said to my self, a truth-teller.

I was pretty amazed. This is not a group that, in my experience, can “tell it like it is.” It’s just not a safe enough environment in which to express one’s honest beliefs most of the time.

So, here’s something I know: there’s hardly anything in the world that’s quite as refreshing as an honest person speaking his or her own truth. (Especially when there may be some kind of risk involved.) You know: someone who just kind of lets it all hang out there, despite the possibility of consequences.

This happens to be the second time in a week I’ve witnessed an apparent truth-teller. Last Friday night, Bill Maher interviewed presidential candidate John Edwards on HBO’s “Real Time With Bill Maher.” Edwards is proposing a universal health-care system that would need more tax dollars to support. He openly admits that, regarding the most important issue he voted on in the U.S. Senate, the war in Iraq, he got it wrong. (!) And, he is against the current W. proposal for a “surge” and has a plan to disengage us from that debacle in about a year’s time.

Wow. A politician who admits a mistake. Someone who says he’d actually raise taxes. Pretty radical stuff.

Even Bill Maher was rather amazed, and observed that individuals who are that honest don’t typically get elected.

Edwards suggested we change all that in 2008.

So, what do you think? Does an honest politician exist? Is Edwards that person? Could this country possibly elect such an individual to our highest office?

I drove up to Eugene yesterday to do some shopping. What with all these interview invitations coming in, I thought I might treat myself to a slightly-updated wardrobe. I have two suits that I currently consider “interview quality,” but, still, it’s been a little while since I bought a new one. So what did I do? I splurged. The suit I found is just what I need and (ohmygod!) the most expensive item of clothing I’ve ever purchased. But, wow, do I look good! (I guess you’ll need to take my word for it!)

The only place I buy suits, slacks and sport coats these days is Men’s Wearhouse, so the drive north was necessary. Plus, it was a warm and sunny mid-winter day and a great time to get out of the house for a little road trip.

While in “the city,” of course, I couldn’t pass up a visit to the local Borders (why no apostrophe?). When I have one of those 30%-off certificates they regularly email me, it’s always so tempting to drop by and pick something up. This time, I wandered over to the just-released non-fiction section for some reason, and I found a title that immediately caught my eye: The No Asshole Rule: Building a Civilized Workplace and Surviving One That Isn’t. Now, you realize, I’ve just barely poked my nose into this work as of this moment…but, my first impression is that this is an extremely worthwhile book. Despite its rather pedestrian title, it was written by a Stanford University professor (of Management Science and Engineering) and offers up the latest research on workplace assholes.

Now, just what is a “workplace asshole” you ask? Ah, there are two tests (p. 9) to determine whether anybody you know is one:

Test One: After talking to the alleged asshole, does the “target” feel oppressed, humiliated, de-energized, or belittled? In particular, does the target feel worse about him or herself?

Test Two: Does the alleged asshole aim his or her venom at people who are less powerful rather than those people who are more powerful?

I’m anxious to find out what the author (Robert I. Sutton, Ph.D.) has to say about such troublesome individuals, how to cope with them, and how to survive a workplace where one (or more) exists.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m Ever gonna make it home again.
It’s so far and out of sight…
I won’t be happy ’til I see
You alone again.
’Til I’m home again and feelin’ right.
I wanna be home again and feelin’ right.

(“Home Again” — Carole King)

It’s not a tremendously large secret that I’m actively engaged in a job search. And have been for quite awhile. After losing a long-time position through a painful institutional reorganization process in 2004, I’ve landed two successive “interim” positions while patiently (or, perhaps, not so) waiting for the “right” and “permanent” job to come along. (Is there such a thing?)

Ahhhh, but there appears to be, as I write this today, reason for optimism (!)…a quality that, I believe, is sometimes conspicuous by its absence in my writings and general life outlook. (Yes, I admit, I’ve often been discouraged.) Here’s the deal: in the last three days, I’ve received one interview invitation per day. This means, counting the recent interview experience I described late last month, that, out-of-the-chute this year, I’m (while mixing metaphors) batting a thousand (four-for-four) in terms of applications leading to interviews. (The other applications I currently have out are for positions that have not reached a closing date yet.) This is an incredible hot streak…and I’m eager to see where this all leads. As the situation stands now, I’m soon traveling to San Francisco (well, actually, San Bruno) and Albany (Oregon), as those interviews have been scheduled. The call I got today was for a position in Sacramento, and I’ve not yet decided whether to accept this trip.

I’m excited! And, while cautious, yes, I’m feelin’ right, right now.

Whatever is becoming of me? Am I turning into this stereotype of a curmudgeonly old fart, someone unrecognizable even to myself? Why is it I find myself engaging in some behaviors these days that would have seemed foreign even just a few years ago?

Or maybe, my actions today are because I’m actually healthy (and want to stay that way) and have little to do with curmudgeonliness?

I haven’t a clue…

Here’s the story.

I went out to a local coffee shop this morning to have a cup of tea and read the newspaper. This is one of (what I term) my “civilized behaviors.” Although I swore off coffee years ago, I have never really given up the coffee-house scene. I love going out in the morning and spending some time with a hot beverage and the morning’s newspaper. Today, I treated myself to the Sunday Oregonian.

This time, I also wanted something to eat. I had never ordered a bagel at this particular place before, so I asked the young man behind the counter what the choices were. Well, there were just three bagels left in the entire place at 9:30 a.m., as it turned out, but I asked that the blueberry bagel be toasted (and could I please have some cream cheese?). I watched while he first prepared my tea, then as he washed his hands before he unwrapped the bagel, sliced it, and put it in the toaster.

So far, so good, I thought.

As I sipped my tea from a seat across the room, I continued to watch as he left the toaster and began to wait on other customers. I observed him open the cash register and handle their money. Finally, when my bagel was ready, he turned around again, back to the counter, and with his bare hands lifted the bagel from the toaster. Then he put it on a plate and brought it over to me.

Which I, of course, refused.

Very calmly I told him that I appreciated the fact that he’d washed his hands before preparing the bagel, but that I’d seen him handle cash and then lift my bagel from the toaster…adding that, at the very least, he could have used tongs.

He was somewhat surprised at my words, I think, but immediately offered up, “yes, that was careless of me. How should we handle this?”

When he brought me back a heated muffin instead, he said, “one guaranteed germ-free muffin for you, sir.”