What A Real Leader Looks Like
Reflecting on a week where California endured yet another mass shooting and unyielding, untamable, fatal wildfires and this nation’s Chief Executive gave convincing evidence though his behavior and deeds that evolution may be merely a theory, I encountered a gentleman that gave me hope me this world is better, much better than the miscreants dominating the headlines.
I’ll start with Dave Cantin. We met in the same building that once housed the restaurant where Jimmy Hoffa was last seen. It’s another restaurant now and we both were confident we’d arrive at our next destinations safe and sound. During my interview with Dave for a Forbes.com story, I learned his father abandoned his family when he was just 9, his mother suffered from depression and he basically raised himself. Despite that, Dave Cantin says he never once felt sorry for himself. In fact, he told me, he learned at that tender age how to develop what he called “self-motivation.” Oh, he was motivated alright. After graduating high school he answered an ad in an Asbury Park, N.J. newspaper for a car salesman. When he arrived at the dealership the sales manager told him he was too young, too inexperienced and to get lost. Instead, Cantin says he sat down, said he wasn’t leaving until he got a fair shake and stayed put for four hours until the boss relented and gave him a job. Good move. Cantin’s positive attitude and incredible work ethic moved him quickly up the ladder until he said he had to leave the dealership after a couple of years because the only job left to aspire to was his boss’s and he liked him too much.
Cantin went on to become a wildly successful car dealer in partnership with ex-New York Giant Brad Benson, then became interested in the car dealership merger and acquisition business. Last December he started his own company, Dave Cantin Group, and is already the nation’s biggest auto M&A firm. Dave’s gunning to be world’s biggest.
Sound like a rich guy solely interested in amassing money and toys? Not even close. Oh yeah, he’s wealthy, but here’s the twist. In 2011 Cantin was diagnosed with leukemia. Cancer. He used that long-honed self-motivation and positive attitude to beat the disease. Cantin says he was supposed to be in the hospital for three months, but not only checked himself out after 16 days, he went out and ran the Boston Marathon. Good for him, right? Aha. Cantin’s all about good for others. Aside from his successful business ventures, he’s devoted his life to the treatment and elimination of pediatric cancer. Why? Here’s what he told me:
“All of my companies we give back a percentage of every acquisition towards fighting the fight and in 2011 I said at the New York Auto Show, I stood up and said, I will not stop fighting this disease until one day no child has to hear those three scary words, ‘you have cancer’ you can bet your ass I will not. That is the most important to me in life. We don’t raise money, we don’t accept contributions. Everything we donate is from earnings the company makes.
We are on track this year to hopefully donate close to a half-million dollars. My goal is to get his ticking where we’re donating a few million dollars a year, just for pediatric cancer.”
Now that’s a real person. That’s a leader, that’s role model, that’s someone who’s truthful, humble, unselfish, thankful and kind. That the kind of person you want representing your great country. Not a lying coward who can’t even brave a little rain to honor soldiers who lost their lives defending the freedoms that, ironically, made it possible for that utter waste of protoplasm to ascend to this nation’s highest office, and defaces it daily with the lowest form of human behavior.
I woke up to the news that notorious, self-style “corporate gadfly” 
I spent a good part of my Sunday filling out my absentee ballot and I must tell you that once you’ve voted this way, there’s no turning back. First of all, they don’t provide/offer/support bringing snacks or beverages of any sort into the polling place, but I had it all as I spread my two-foot long ballot on the counter top in my basement. I’m not complaining about the length of the ballot, but I read the entire Cheescake Factory menu in less time. When you’re faced with considering such important decisions at the polling place you feel rushed and the eyes of those waiting in line piercing your back in hopes of vaporizing your body just so they can use your little booth or enclosure and take their own time filling in the little boxes.
Earlier this week I found myself at a local community college for a business meeting. I got there early and decided to find a spot in the student center where I could go over my notes. I set up camp at a high top in the snack bar then made a choice. I had all my notes stored electronically on my tablet, but also on printed pages in a folder. Hmm..I’m in a place crawling with college students, sitting among them in a jacket and tie, so I already stuck out like a pastrami sandwich at a vegan restaurant.
On this beautiful, sunny, fall day when I could have taken a brisk walk through the crimson and gold canopy provided by the trees on the nearby township trail, I instead blew and afternoon removing fallen leaves from my lawn, landscape plantings and driveway. 
Mother Nature, knowing all, as most moms do, saw a trend just as Earthlings started figuring out how to get machines to do work they didn’t want to do. “Hmm…” thought Mom Nature, “what if I plant the seed, since I’m good at planting seeds, as well as bulbs, in people’s minds, that things that happen naturally need to be screwed with. Those who resist will become the bane of their subdivisions and called on the carpet by the condo board for not interfering with an otherwise natural process…like leaves falling in the, duh, fall, or moving snow from here….to there? Those idiots will need to buy all sorts of implements, power tools and supplies to do those jobs. And..and..oh wow! Other people who know that so many people don’t wanna do those jobs will start businesses to do those jobs for those lazy people and I can be a silent partner in all of that and retire to the most Unnatural place in the world…Las Vegas, where no one ever sees the light of day, which means I’m off the hook for good!” 
I’m imagining this evil scenario as my arms, shoulders and back send my brain messages to the tune of “you’re a schmuck, a sucker for Mother Nature’s money making scheme so we have to suffer?” Being Jewish, I immediately felt pangs of guilt, made myself a pot of chicken soup and binge watched “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel” since her husband is an even bigger schmuck, thereby helping me regain a morsel of self-respect. 
It’s really difficult to fathom why it takes such structural might to push a little kid around. But I get it, because this is not a new story. My kids were born in 1984 and 1988 in Atlanta. Back then, in the height of Yuppy arrogance, young couples starting their families somehow became obnoxious social climbers. Here’s how it went down. 
Back then there were two main choices of strollers: The $70 Maxi Taxi, which did the job quite well and conveniently folded by just squeezing a plastic bar just under the push handle.
Then there was the $300 Aprica. At least that what it cost back then. This was overkill to the max. Indeed, it made the Maxi Taxi look like a Mini Pushcart. Big and blue and a million adjustments and fancy wheels and compartments. We chose the Maxi Taxi because, well, we weren’t insecure assholes who felt they needed to make some sort of statement about our station in life with an exorbitantly priced way to tote our tiny little kid. Indeed, when we encountered an “Aprica couple” they would eye our Maxi Taxi with the same disdain one might show nutritional information on a McDonalds menu. 
There was no kid in the stroller. In fact, a stuffed bear occupied the kid’s seat and the mom was holding the little one. The dumb dad was of zero help as mom struggled to get the kid in the car. No, dumb dad had put a sweet drink in the stroller’s cupholder. Wait! Why you need a cupholder in a stroller? Oh yeah, so parents can park their lattes! Anyway, A couple of hornets were attracted to the drink and hovered around. Dumb dad was also cowardly dad and he took refuge behind the next car while mom flailed away. She was good! While wimpy husband cowered, she managed to pop the trunk and fold the stroller after putting the kid in the child seat inside. But she wasn’t that good. She tossed the stroller in the trunk…with both hornets still sucking on the soft drink. Closes the lid and gets in the car. So does dumb dad. A moment later, the doors fly open as both parents flee the bees, leaving poor little kid inside, defenseless. Now…if only they saved the dough and bought a sensible stroller— without a cupholder. 
Two years after “retiring” I now have two new jobs. Both part-time but still, it ain’t exactly lounging on the beach, or playing golf with the other alta cockers or pushing a shuffleboard stick at a condo in Florida. 
Oh people, when will you realize there’s a quiet controversy polarizing this nation that goes far beyond the white noise surrounding the White House and directly into the hearts, minds and bellies of anyone who has ever had to take a stand to defend a vital personal choice.
I tell you this because a discussion during a recent family meal quickly escalated into harsh words and accusations of questionable loyalty. You see, I innocently remarked I could be perfectly happy eating an oatmeal-raisin cookie. But, aha! My family turned on me with the force of the Pillsbury Doughboy’s belly with the barb, “you say that, but if faced with the choice of an oatmeal-raisin or chocolate chip cookie which one would you choose? Don’t lie! We know no one REALLY prefers oatmeal-raisin. You will guiltily go for the chips!” While not under oath, my personal code did not allow me to fudge my reply as I mumbled, “mmmyeah, like the chocolate chip but ok with oatmeal-raisin….IF NO OTHER CHOICE.”
“What a wimp!,” said a family member. “Your alleged loyalty for oatmeal-raisin is totally conditional on it being the only cookie in the jar. Most sane and honest people would just as soon go cookie-less than descend to the depths of the oatmeal-based outlier.”
Was it so bad to stray, just once? But my exposure as someone who cookied-around while trying to pose as an ardent oatmeal-raisin advocate was complete.
edLINES 