Curmudgeon's Laws -- dental edition

Some years ago, I suggested some "laws" I'd derived over the course of many years' experience. I further suggested they might be universal and they may still be.

They were not, however, viral, and I continue to labor in perpetual obscurity.

Which may not be entirely bad -- if I ever get back to posting regularly.

Anyway, this was the original list of Curmudgeon's Laws:

1. These laws will never be more popular or well known than Murphy's.
2. The farther away one gets from a problem, the easier the problem is to solve. (This is why, for example, bloggers and presidential candidates know exactly what to do about the budget, Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran, immigration,etc., etc., etc. and why presidents seem to have such a difficult time of it. This is also why I can solve every problem but those on my own plate.)
3. You can't do anything without doing three other things first.
4. By the time you've done the three other things, you will most likely forget what you set out to do in the first place. (This is why you often feel as if you've worked hard all day and have still done nothing.)
5. The piece of paper that you had in your hand five minutes ago and that you need right now will invariably be impossible to find.

I subsequently added to the list with these winners --

6. It costs more to be poor in America than it does to be rich.

7. Expenses do not follow when income fails. (Originally, I said that "Expenses do not fall easily when income drops," but this sounds more pithy and Poor Man's Almanac-esque. Anyway, it's my blog and I can edit if I want to.)

To this perhaps not-nearly-so-distinguished-list-as-I-imagine I add the following:

8. If you have a dentist's appointment tomorrow, someone will offer you popcorn today.

I don't have to tell you that this is an offer you must refuse, right? Dental hygienists are, for the most part, lovely people. But they work with sharp, pointed objects and they can, and probably will, make you pay in a million ways for your pre-appointment popcorn consumption.

And there's no insurance in the world that will cover it.

Taking ownership vs. being a butt-in-ski

I have long counseled younger colleagues to approach each job as if they are the owners of the business. Act like you own the place, I'd tell them. That doesn't mean that anything in the corporate checkbook is yours to plunder; rather, it means consider the success of the business to be your own as well and work to achieve that end. Make the business look good, and look good in the process.

Later, I would give that advice to my own kids.

Of course, it is much easier to give advice than to follow it, as I am reminded now as I face a situation here at the Undisclosed Location with a new client.

The new client is an insurer with a multistate presence, just beginning to expand into Chicago. Getting business as the insurer begins to expand into this market carries with it the tantalizing hope that my own business will expand as the insurer's presence here grows.

But the insurer also arrives here with some preconceived notions and with a list of 'national' policies and, more important for purposes of this discussion, national vendors already in place.

In other words, when you need things -- medical records, court reporters, stuff like that -- you have to use the companies that the insurer has approved.

And that's fine.

When you make a recommendation or a referral, it's your own reputation you put on the line. That's true not just in business. Over 25 years ago I dropped a doctor who made what I considered a terrible specialist referral. It was terrible for me, anyway. And it got me questioning the judgment of the referring doctor. So I didn't go back to him. Eventually, I got a new doctor.

Thus, when a client comes in and says 'use our guys,' I'm only too happy to comply. If their guy screws up, sure, I'll pay the penalty with the court, perhaps, and my ability to achieve the best outcome in the case may be compromised, but I won't have lost face with the client.

On the other hand... and I'm being vague here on purpose, as I'm sure you understand... I just got some stuff from a 'national' provider for this new client and the cost struck me as outrageously high. I'm sure I can beat it locally. I will be reimbursed, eventually, for these costs -- but (if I follow my own well-meant advice) I should tell the client that their guy is way overpriced and, at least in this market, we can do lots better.

But... and here's how following good advice can get you bad results... how do I know that the person who owns the overpriced business in question isn't the in-law, spouse, or BFF of some key decision-maker at the insurance company?

Obviously, I don't know.

Thus, I have to tread carefully here. Helping the client save money is not just the right thing to do, it's generally a good way to ingratiate oneself with the client. Win-win. Attacking the in-law, spouse, or BFF of one of the client's key decision-makers is a sure way to lose-lose the business. I shall have to be cautious (which, since I am a natural-born coward, is easy for me) and I shall have to be diplomatic (and there, ladies and gentlemen, we have identified the problem).

It's one thing to act like you own someone else's business -- but it's harder when you have your own to think about, too.

Disappearing people

Have you ever noticed that the people you most want to talk to are the hardest to find? I'm not certain if this is just a corollary of another rule (the people you least want to talk to are darn near unavoidable) or whether it should be considered a free-standing Law, as in Murphy's.

I've been trying to reach a colleague now on a number of matters for weeks. We have so many matters together that my list is growing longer -- and increasingly urgent -- but she's seemingly disappeared from the planet. Her assistant denies this; she says that my colleague is in a meeting, or at a closing, or just ran out for coffee. The assistant says my colleague will definitely call me right back -- but it doesn't happen. I've had a stray email or two from her -- merely increasing my workload and my anxiety -- but no closure on any of these problems.

Of course, my problems with this colleague are minor compared to those I have presently with another lawyer for whom I am supposed to be handling an appeal. I have called, I have emailed, I have wandered over to this man's office. I can't get him to talk to me. I've done everything but take out a personal ad. I may try that today.

Years ago, when I was in college or law school, when someone disappeared for weeks at a time, people would say -- "Oh, Sam? He's fallen in love." Often enough, given our youth and the popular culture (it was the 70s), the statement was true.

There's no such excuse in either of these cases. At least... I don't think so.

Some of our collective fears about lost privacy seem to have been overblown: Although it's harder than ever to avoid knowing that someone is looking for you, it's still fairly easy to stay out of sight if you don't want to be found.

Curmudgeon's Laws -- and others

I published a list of Curmudgeon's Laws at the end of December and offered to expand on these from time to time.

Despite the near-total absence of clamor for any follow-up, I add to my list herewith:

It costs more to be poor in America than it does to be rich. I concede that this is counter-intuitive -- on the surface -- but poorer people are the ones who can't pay off their charge card bills each month and so incur high interest rates on their balances. A shirt at a department store may cost a rich man $25. The same shirt costs the poor man $25 plus interest. Miss a payment -- or be late with a payment -- and the already high interest rate goes up, up, up. Meanwhile, not only do wealthier people not incur interest charges, at least one credit card (the American Express Plum Card) offers customers the opportunity for a 1.5% discount if the card balance is paid each month when due. I suspect that things work similarly in other developed nations -- but I'm almost positive that this rule would not apply in hunter-gather societies. Are there any anthropologists out there who think differently?

Expenses do not fall easily when income drops. This is more a corollary of Parkinson's Second Law.

"Parkinson" refers to British scholar C. Northcote Parkinson, whose first law, "Work expands to fill the time allotted for its completion," is probably familiar to you even if the author is not. Parkinson's second law is "expenses rise to meet income," that is, the more you make, the more you (or your spouse) will spend. That house that was perfectly adequate before your last promotion seems tiny and cramped following same. That car that was so reliable and comfortable before, now seems old and worn out. So you buy a new house and a new car. Your expenses go up.

Here is where my law comes into play: If you are laid off, or if -- for example -- you are self-employed and your customers slow down or even stop paying your bills because of the lousy economy, your income will fall but the new house is still there -- with the new car in the driveway. The expenses don't fall -- not easily. They will only eventually fall -- after the foreclosure, perhaps, and after the repo man has come to call.

Looking up Parkinson's Laws this morning (lawyers can't help but research nearly everything -- except consumer purchases, but that's another story) I came across this trove of collected wisdom.

Let me highlight just a few:

The law of scientific equilibrium

If it is settled it is not science.

If it is science it is not settled.

The law of scientific consensus

At times of high scientific controversy, the consensus is always wrong.

The law of targets

A level set as a target maximum becomes the de facto minimum, and vice versa.

Lawyers will recognize this last one as a fundamental principle of settlement negotiations. One never tells the other side that the client will settle for somewhere between $40,000 and $60,000. Even if the conversation is reported verbatim, the client on the other side will hear only $40,000 (if he is the one who is supposed to pay) or $60,000 (if she is the one expecting to receive money in the deal).

And I don't know who this Evans was, but he or she was surely right:

Evans’ law of inadequate paranoia

No matter how bad you think things are, they’re worse.

Curmudgeon's Laws

The first in an occasional series?

1. These laws will never be more popular or well known than Murphy's.


2. The farther away one gets from a problem, the easier the problem is to solve. (This is why, for example, bloggers and presidential candidates know exactly what to do about the budget, Afghanistan, Iraq,etc., etc., etc. and why presidents seem to have such a difficult time of it. This is also why I can solve every problem but those on my own plate.)


3. You can't do anything without doing three other things first.


4. By the time you've done the three other things, you will most likely forget what you set out to do in the first place. (This is why you often feel as if you've worked hard all day and have still done nothing.)


5. The piece of paper that you had in your hand five minutes ago and that you need right now will invariably be impossible to find.

I'll leave it you to evaluate whether these rules are truly universal. Feel free to conduct a lively debate in the comments.

In the meantime, have a Happy New Year -- and be careful out there.

Prosperity is just around the corner?

But watch out for that cliff....

I have sometimes felt sad and ashamed for not knowing the first thing about financial markets and securities. I have tried making jokes to cover my feelings of inadequacy: I'm thinking of changing my investment strategy, I might say, when the conversation comes around to the uncomfortable topic of investing. Yes, I may try moving from a Christmas Club to a passbook savings account this year.

And then -- when Bear Stearns closes at $30 a share on a Friday and is bought out for $2 a share on the weekend -- I don't feel nearly so inadequate any more.

My understanding of finances may be summed up in three rules, each consisting of only two words. Herewith, Curmudgeon's Rules of Finance:

1. Savings good.
2. Debt bad.
3. Income necessary.

If everyone kept these three little rules in mind, we wouldn't be worried about the collapse of the sub-prime mortgage market. Mind you, I haven't been able to follow my own advice for several years. It's a combination of five kids in school and inadequate income that have taken me down... but, remember, don't do as I do, do as I say.

And with an attitude like that, maybe I should go for politics again, eh?