is the 4th of my 2021 series of   Winter Warmers. The musings are a blend of my real life experiences, professional insights, personal views and fun stories. My hope is that in them you find joy and inspiration.

   You know how you sometimes roll into a new town and instantly fall in love with it, knowing that however long you spend there will never be enough? Well Muddledrudge is not one of them. It appears to have been built from reinforced porridge by deranged drunkards on a spaghetti bender. It is one of those new towns where separation of people and cars was a major element of the town master plan. As such it boasts a labyrinth of underpasses, pedestrian footbridges, segregated footpaths and miles of deserted motorways forever turning in on themselves, flying over and under each other and leading apparently nowhere – and certainly not to anywhere I wanted to go …..

  I had made the cardinal error of not reccy-ing the town the day before and then arriving only twenty minutes before the time of my scheduled meeting. Now I found myself frantically driving in ever more mind-scrambling circles trying to find my way to an unknown venue. From time to time I caught sight of the mammoth building which I assumed to be the 'everything-under-one-roof' town centre which was my destination. But the monstrosity would sail past first on my right, then on my left, then loom tantalisingly large in front of me before the dastardly road to nowhere whisked me away from it and back into the spreadeagled tangle of Muddledrudge's concrete madness.

  The time of my meeting came and went. Defeated and exhausted, I pulled into a bus stop. I got out of my car and looked all around. There was nobody to be seen. Where were the inhabitants? I imagined them cowering fearfully in their homes, terrified to venture out lest they be swallowed by the metropolitan maze and never seen again. Their emaciated bodies only to be discovered months later, huddled starving in an underpass or suspended suicidally from a footbridge.

  Regardless, I ventured to a nearby pedestrian tunnel, thinking to cross the road in search of a café and a much needed black coffee. I soon changed my mind. The underpass was a twilight litter tip, smelt like a public toilet and turned out to be where local youths congregated to shoot the breeze – or worse. I hastily retraced my footsteps and headed for the pedestrian bridge. Wrong again! After ten minutes on the tediously lengthy detour and still nowhere near to crossing the freeway, I turned back. Then the obvious solution dawned. The road was deserted. There was no risk to life nor limb in simply walking across the carriageway. So I stepped on to the road. That was when the police patrol car magically appeared!

  The law officer driving it was already gleefully preparing his book of fixed penalty notices as he clambered out to confront me. I resisted my natural inclination to do everything in my power to make his life as difficult as possible and forced a false, “Good morning,” smile through gritted teeth. To no avail. He quickly cautioned me and scribbled out three tickets, fining me the equivalent of the substantial commission I had hoped to earn from the meeting which I had spectacularly failed to get to!

  The first fine was for the crime of stopping in a bus reserved area. The second was for walking on the highway, obstructing and endangering other road users. The third was for using threatening behaviour towards a police officer when exclaiming, “There's not a flamin' bus to be seen within miles! And how can I cause an obstruction on a deserted highway and endanger road users who don't b....y well exist!” I was escorted to my car with a condescending, “Be on your way sir, we don't tolerate troublemakers here,” while stifling the urge to scream that the absence of people suggested that no-one at all was tolerated!

  Nonetheless, as I resumed my drive, I regained a degree of calm. I saw that the bizarre events had served to remind me of the importance of sussing out situations, circumstances, scenarios and destinations in advance – doing my homework. To ensure that in life and business I was not on a road to nowhere.

  Having said that - You know how you sometimes roll into a new town and instantly wish that you hadn't bothered, knowing that no matter how brief your visit it will inevitably be too long? Well Muddledrudge is such a place. But its tangled web of deserted roads mean you're unlikely to leave it quickly. As night fell I started to wonder if I ever would …..

THE ROAD TO NOWHERE  is an original copyright Tom Riach feature.
I hope you enjoyed this Winter Warmer and found it to be of value.
To learn more please visit me on my Author Page.
See you there! Regards, Tom.

is the 3rd of my 2021 series of   Winter Warmers. The musings are a blend of my real life experiences, professional insights, personal views and fun stories. My hope is that in them you find joy and inspiration.

   The roar of the crackling log fire in the hearth of the country inn was matched only by the drinkers' hearty roars of laughter as they reacted to a local fisherman's colourfully embroidered yarn of 'the one that got away' - the size of the elusive salmon magically increasing with every telling. I swigged my pint and joined in the general revelry. But the fun story of a frustrating day of fruitless casting by the riverbank also caused me to reflect on my own experience of a quite different kind of fisherman's tale - the one that tells of extreme hardship and danger in the hostile environment of deep-sea trawling.

  The hardy souls who inhabit that world have no need of bragging rights when recounting their high seas adventures. Every one of them knows that the real-life deprivation and risk of their occupation far surpasses any improbable yarn dreamt up in the cosy surroundings of a wayside tavern. Trawlermen's howffs are bawdy dockside bars where they drink to erase, not recall, their most awful memories and to dim the perilous prospects of their next voyage.

  Those of the crews who do not shipwreck on booze when ashore tend to be introspective, they speak little of their life at sea. Many lead quiet lives and cherish their time at home with family. 'Skipper Jim' was one such softly spoken man. He lacked the rugged features and vulgar nature of many seamen but was no less hard as lobsters' claws through it. Jim 'treated' me to my one and only experience of life as a deep-sea trawlerman. The two week winter voyage to the North Atlantic fishing grounds in search of cod, halibut, herring and haddock proved to be one of the most chastening experiences of my young life. At fifteen and fit, I considered myself to be as tough as they come. How wrong I was!

  As the veritable 'boy amongst men' I was worked to the bone. After just two days my hands were chaffed red raw from hauling cables, cleaning nets, manhandling boxes, shoveling ice and gutting fish. I was given every toughest, filthiest and most dangerous job going. This included a terrifying clamber to secure the radio antenna at the top of the mast in a fearsome gale, driving sleet and heaving seas. I rarely slept. Whenever I did steal a moment to rest my battered body in a cramped box bunk, I was inevitably immediately awoken with the cry that the nets were being cast again - a fresh shoal of fish had been detected on the sonar.

  I was the constant butt of the crew's jokes. They nicknamed me 'Tom Thumb'. Not that I was small in stature but because I was short on experience, knowledge and, most of all, the stamina of body and spirit with which they, to a man, abounded. Some boasted impressive physiques but mostly they were wirey individuals, tough as the seamen's thigh-high boots they wore and impervious to anything that man or nature could throw at them. They laughed, joked and leg-pulled incessantly. Humour was the bedrock of their existence. I've never forgotten that.

  Through the trawlermen I understand that there is no situation in which I might find myself in life which remotely compares to the discomfort and danger of their harsh life at sea. If they can laugh in the face of such daunting adversity, then I know that I can easily find fun in far less demanding circumstances. As an entrepreneur, business or self-employed person, you would be wise to do likewise.

  When you laugh at yourself and permit others to laugh with you, then life's inevitable setbacks are diminished. Difficulties can become advantages. Trawlermen inherently know this and the salmon fisherman relating his tale of 'the one that got away' is doing just that. He is turning his failure to land the fish into a triumph of self-effacing story telling. There is so much, much more to fisherfolk, and to  fishermen's tales, than just the size of the salmon!

THE ONE THT GOT AWAY  is an original copyright Tom Riach feature.
I hope you enjoyed this Winter Warmer and found it to be of value.
To learn more please visit me on my Author Page.
See you there! Regards, Tom.

is the 2nd of my 2021 series of   Winter Warmers. The musings are a blend of my real life experiences, professional insights, personal views and fun stories. My hope is that in them you find joy and inspiration.

   The Scottish tradition of porridge making and eating is awash with folklore, myth and ritual. Custom dictates that the oats and water mix (never milk) must be stirred right-handed and clockwise with a wooden spurtle while cooking. The porridge should then be eaten with a deer horn spoon from a birchwood bowl, while standing, not seated. Critically, a pinch of salt is added. This last point is quintessentially Scottish. In most other cultures some sweetener, sugar or honey, is added – but that is absolutely taboo to Scots. It is in fact easy to identify real Scots in breakfast bars or other public eateries by the fact that they are the ones vociferously insistent on having a pinch of salt in their porridge!

  A common misconception is that the term 'taken with a pinch of salt' - in reference to expressing a degree of sceptisism with regard to something stated - derives from the Scots' love of salt in their porridge and to their notoriously canny nature. But not so. The term 'taking it with a pinch of salt' when having reservations about a fact or statement being completely true derives from Roman times when a grain of salt was considered to be an antidote to certain poisons. The more general corollary being that food is more easily ingested if taken with a small amount of salt – and likewise questionable truths!

  Whatever the origins of the colloquial expression, there is little doubt that (Scottish porridge eater or otherwise) it's an important idiom to remember in today's era of fake news, biased media, censored internet and untrustworthy politicians. As regards all of these entities it might well be wise to apply a bucket load of salt to their outpourings rather than just a pinch! And this is even more relevant to those of you who are entrepreneurs, business owners or self-employed.

  The success of your business is, after all, dependent on sound intelligence on which to base decisions. You cannot properly plan your strategies if working according to flawed facts and figures. So you must be sure to use reliable sources of information; ones which, as with the Scottish porridge making tradition, have a well established pedigree. You need a system for doing this. Fortunately it's quite easy. Here's how :

  Compare recipes - Refer to as many different ways of 'making porridge' as you can find. Immediately discard those which are clearly unsuitable to your taste. Prepare the others and find which ones are easist to cook and which are most agreeable to your palate. With a little trial and error you will establish a reliable favourite, a recipe to successfully produce the finest porridge every time. Apply the same principle with information sources – sift through them, compare and taste. Do not depend on just one source and never until it is proven. And weigh up views from reliabe sources on all sides of the spectrum.

  Stick to what you know - Once you have that successful recipe, stick to it. It takes time and practice to find just the right ingredients, method of preparation and a flavour that appeals – a porridge which you 'know, like and trust'. Information sources and business associates are the same. Take time to establish your sources and relationships. Weed out those which are disagreeable and then work only with those who have proven their long term reliability.

  Trust your gut - If the porridge makes you vomit, don't use that recipe again! But, even before you reach such a critical stage, you should note if the porridge recipe you are using feels right. Is the look and smell of the preparation dubious? Is there anything at all in fact with which you are not at ease? If in any doubt at all discard it. Your gut, as in your stomach, knows best – hence the term 'gut instinct'. This 'sixth sense' regarding people and events in our lives resides in all of us but not everyone heeds its guidance. But those who listen to and 'follow their gut' in all sorts of life and business situations are most often well rewarded. So go with your 'gut feeling' more often. It exists for a reason, trust what it tells you - no pinch of salt required!

is the 1st of eight in my 2021 series of  Winter Warmers. The musings are a blend of my real life experiences, professional insights, personal views and fun stories. My hope is that in them you find joy and inspiration.

   Legendary Scottish comedian, Chic Murray, told the gag of being on a bus which ran out of control down a steep hill and crashed into a wall at the bottom. In the aftermath of the impact he turned to a dazed passenger beside him and punched him on the nose. “Why did you do that?” asked another bewildered traveller. “Too good a chance to miss!” cracked Chic.

  It is not difficult to see the real life similarity between that situation and the way the ruling elites of society operate. Any 'bus crash' in society presents a power grab opportunity too good for them to miss. But, unlike Chic, they don't stop at one punch. They pummel their victims relentlessly. And, once they sieze control, they don't give it back. Despite glibly worded assurances to the contrary, they do not relinquish 'temporary' powers awarded to themselves in exceptional times but continue to prosecute the populace ongoing in the name of 'for your own good'. Thus does the erosion of personal freedom and civil liberty creep, nay race, forward.

  So what can you, a lone voice in a loud world, do to right things? Well, as other Scottish comic legend Billy Connolly famously said, “Don't vote for them, it only encourages them!” He felt that anyone who actively pursues high office should be automatically barred from holding it. He had a point. Those who seek power are rarely those best suited to wielding it. By that measure, all career politicians should be dismissed. Ordinary citizens chosen by their fellows for their integrity and known commitment to the community offer a better prospect. But how to get there? Well, start with yourself!

  There are two things you can do right now. The first is to get out in your street, your neighbourhood, your town and, without any political objective (that is essential), set about helping others in whatever ways you can. Become known as an enthusiastic, energetic, concerned and caring individual. Encourage good humour, optimism and personal responsibility. Others like you will combine to create a thriving community built on trust and mutual respect. From within your ranks, leaders of compassion and commitment will emerge.

  The second move is – become self-employed! Put yourself in the position of being in sole control of your life and the prosperity in it. Learn what it is to be your own man/woman. From that perspective you will see how energising it is to be independent and creating your own destiny. As a self-employee you will understand more clearly the corrupt practices and wastefulness of the career-politician led governments of the political elites. You will thus become more motivated to resist their tyranny. The more who self-employ then the greater the pressure that can be exerted on the bent system. It is up to you. Appreciate the responsibilities which come with self-employment and capitalise on the freedom of your new situation to bring about change.

  One final point – When you set up your enterprise, establish a 'real world' one, a bricks and mortar business. That is not to say you should ignore the internet or modern technology. But many people flooding to work online involve themselves in what are nothing more than pyramid schemes and money cyclers. These neither create wealth nor promote real goods or services. There is no future in them. Use the internet, automated intelligence particularly, by all means, but as the servant and tools of your enterprise.

  Then you can build a business of genuine value to your clients, customers and the community at large. One which does not capitalise on 'bus crash' scenarios to coerce people into adherence but rather which thrives on its own merits, with a reputation for providing ethical value and encouraging freedom of thought and spirit. Put simply, make what you offer … too good a chance to miss!

TOO GOOD TO MISS  is an original copyright Tom Riach feature.
I hope you enjoyed this Winter Warmer and found it to be of value.
To learn more please visit me on my Author Page.
See you there! Regards, Tom.

is the 12th and final article for light holiday reading in my 2020 series of  Tom's Summer Shorts. The tales are a blend of my real life experiences, professional insights, personal views and fun stories. My hope is that in them you find joy and inspiration.

     As late September's cooler breeze arrived, the tourists departed. I holdalled my flimsy summer wear and made to follow them. I lingered for a final beer at the tinshack beach bar which I had adopted as my author's study for several carefree weeks. It had proved ideal for my purpose. Young bartender Rui had kept me regularly refreshed as I scribbled in my 'private corner'.

    A budding artist, Rui had painted one wall of the howff with cartoons of the bar and of all the other 'watering holes' on the waterfront too. The work was that of impassioned youth, painted with the loving attention to detail of one who had clearly enjoyed the hospitality of every one of the bars featured! I could tell, as I had shared a similar love affair with drinking establishments during my formative years. Rui was eager to compare my story of mis-spent youth with his and to know how I found success. So I told him …

    “When Haggis, one of 'my gang' of friends left school, he went to work with the city council in the department which held the records of each and every business and residential property in the city and surrounds - and details of who occupied them. Haggis soon realised he had access to a list of every single pub, hostelry and drinking establishment in the region. Armed with this knowledge, 'our gang' set about the task of acquainting ourselves with, and downing ale, in every one of them. I'm ashamed to report that we succeeded rather admirably!

    I did not become so pickled in the process however as not to learn several valuable lessons from my youthful excesses. The first of these was to not spend all my money in pubs. The second was how to make money from the time I did spend in pubs! Yes, I turned my teenage tomfoolery into meaningful business. How did this come about? - simple.

   When I got to setting up my own business, I used Haggis's register of pubs and the names of their owners and landlords as a ready made target niche of potential customers. I surveyed them to find which goods and/or services best appealed to them, then supplied just that. I also recruited several of the bar owners as my agents. They promoted my services in their premises and to their customers, and they referred me to their clients. It was a perfect set up.

    So perfect in fact that I hired an assistant to research more of the public records pertaining to property in the town. Soon, I could identify the owners and/or tenants and occupiers of almost every city property. I subdivided these into niches according to area, type of property (business or residential), business practiced or trade/profession and circumstances of occupier etc. and then researched and defined which goods and services were most appropriate to which niche. Then, and only then, did I create an enterprise appropriate to the particular niches.

    By repeating this formula I created over time many successful businesses. So the lesson for you Rui is to do likewise. Turn your delinquent days passion - the beach, the bars, your art - into your adult years income. That way you will have fun and always make money too. I'll write down my formula for you just in case you forget!”

     I grabbed a paper napkin and scribbled the following :

    1. Have fun. 2. Turn your fun into income. 3. Use your local knowledge and public records to research your market – do your homework! 4. Tailor your offering to suit the potential buyers you have identified – not the other way around. 5. Involve your clients as partners too.

   I handed Rui the slip, downed my beer and we hugged the hug of a happy summer shared. Then I headed for home.

  It may have been the end of summer but the day marked the start of Rui's successful beach bar and art gallery chain of eateries. It also marked the completion of my first best-selling book. A plaque at 'my' table in what is today Rui's Bar reads - “This is where Joseph Tom Riach wrote 'Mastering The Art Of Making Money'. Read it and prosper. I did! - Rui.” A nearby stand displays all my books for sale. So Rui and I are each in our own way practicing exactly what I preached!

    From our respective entrepreneurial positions we firmly agree that every day is opportunity, every day a new beginning. From that perspective, every day is sunny and fun-filled. The end of summer? … there's no such thing!

THE END OF SUMMER?  is an original copyright Tom Riach feature.
I hope you enjoyed this Summer Short and found it to be of value.
To learn more please visit me on my Author Page.
See you there! Regards, Tom.

is the 11th of twelve articles for light holiday reading in my 2020 series of  Tom's Summer Shorts. The tales are a blend of my real life experiences, professional insights, personal views and fun stories. My hope is that in them you find joy and inspiration.

   My friend Zé lazed back in his rickety wicker chair. He exhaled a perfect ring of blue smoke from his inhalation of aptly named Disque Bleu cigarette and replied, “Hanging out in heaven of course.” Then he smiled contentedly and said nothing. He eyed me as the crazed foreigner which I so clearly was. He had a point. I had asked him 'What was he doing here?' … then instantly regretted it. His response confirmed the inanity of my question.

  Zé had been a cordon bleu trained chef, preparing quality cuisine for discerning diners in posh restaurants … before giving it all up and becoming a beach bum! For the ten years preceding our conversation he had lived in a makeshift, tarpaulin and orange-box shack on a small island in the lagoon surrounding where we sat. He lived off fresh fish caught on his 'doorstep', occasional 'donations' from tourists who he regaled with lurid tales of his 'life and adventures' living rough in southern Portugal and 'contributions' of wine, coffee and anything else from local acquaintances such as myself. At that moment we were sipping a rather pleasant Borba I'd brought along to while away a couple of hours chatting in the early evening sunshine. Soon we were joined by Jarvis.

  “I heard that,” Jarvis volunteered as he appeared through the sand dunes, “It was a dumb question.” I shrugged in agreement. “What else are we doing, you, me, all three of us, if not hanging out in heaven?” he asked. “Mind you,” he added, as he plumped himself on the pile of driftwood which constituted Zé's 'guest' chair and turned his attention to his 'host', “My idea of heaven is somewhat more refined than yours. How you can live in this midden … ,” here he swept an outstretched arm around at the junk of Zé's existence, “ … beats me. I like the natural life, sure I do, but I need my creature comforts too.”

  Jarvis did indeed like his creature comforts. Home to him was a spacious villa with extensive grounds in an affluent neighbourhood. It was lavishly furnished and boasted a sauna, large swimming pool and tennis court. He wore designer brand clothes, drove an expensive sports coupé and dined regularly in the same upmarket restaurants where Zé had formerly worked. The two had in fact met many years past while Jarvis was eating in a 'Zé restaurant' and had remained friends since. I sat back and tuned in to their good-natured banter.

  It occurred to me listening to them that both men were, most assuredly, 'hanging out in heaven'. For that matter, so was I. Yet our concepts of that heaven varied considerably. Yes, the physical world we shared was the same. We inhabited the same blissful, geographical location. But how we each chose to experience our existence there differed greatly.

  Zé had experienced the 'high life', then gave it up in favour of an ultra simple, non-materialistic world in which only the 'today' mattered. Jarvis continued to pursue and enjoy all the trappings of affluence and the hectic social whirl surrounding it. For me, the peace, tranquility and freedom of my 'heaven' reigned supreme.

  As I drained my cracked clay mug of the last of my wine, I bade my farewells to my two friends, still cackling merrily by Zé's camp fire, and wandered home. I reflected that 'hanging out in heaven' meant different things to different people but that, more so than anything, it is not so much governed by your physical presence or location. Rather, it is a choice you make, a choice which comes from and resides within you. In that respect anyone can be 'hanging out in heaven' anywhere, any time. It's not a case of you hanging out in heaven, it's a case of choosing to have heaven hanging out in you!

HANGING OUT IN HEAVEN  is an original copyright Tom Riach feature.
I hope you enjoyed this Summer Short and found it to be of value.
To learn more please visit me on my Author Page.
See you there! Regards, Tom.

is the 10th of twelve articles for light holiday reading in my 2020 series of  Tom's Summer Shorts. The tales are a blend of my real life experiences, professional insights, personal views and fun stories. My hope is that in them you find joy and inspiration.

    As a youngster I went to the Scottish country dance lessons which my mother ran in a local church hall. There I learned to twirl my way through the 'Dashing White Sergeant', 'Strip The Willow', 'Eightsome Reel' and countless other highland classics. 

   In later teens I attended Madame Murray's ballroom dancing classes. These took place at six o'clock on a Saturday evening. The tuition was usually followed by a visit to the pub for some 'Dutch courage' in the form of several beers before going on to a local dance hall to 'chat up the birds' and put into practice Madame Murray's teachings. These teachings included all the waltzes, the fox trot, sambas and tango. She even taught jive and rock 'n roll. Not un-naturally, these were my favourites!

   An amusing part of her lessons was the assignation of partners for the lessons at the start of each session. Pupils were not allowed to choose a partner. The girls lined up at one side of the hall, the boys on the other. At her command, delivered by microphone from her all-seeing position on the stage at one end of the hall, both lines advanced towards each other. The idea was that your partner for the evening was whoever you ended up facing as the lines met. But, as the lines converged and it became apparent who your partner might be, shoving and pushing developed in the respective lines as boys and girls jostled to avoid an unwanted partner or to be opposite a preferred one! The operation generally degenerated into a mass brawl with Madame frantically blowing on the whistle she kept for just such indiscipline to try and restore order!

   Later, in the dance hall, choosing a partner was more straightforward. The lad approached a girl he fancied and, in my north-east corner of Scotland, asked, “Yi duncin'?” (Are you dancing)? To which the girl would reply, “Yi askin'?” He'd say, “I'm askin'.” She, if agreeing, then replied, “I'm duncin'!” At which the lad would saunter proprietorily on to the dance floor with the girl in tow behind. When the girl declined the invitation to dance, her response was, “Nae chance!” accompanied by crossing her arms, half turning to her friends and sniggering snarkily with them. The poor reject, ego dented, shuffled off to try elsewhere – or not.

   Having suffered my share of such rebuffals, I learned that the best tactic when picking a girl was to avoid asking the stand out beauties, those dazzlers whom most lads were hopelessly attracted to and buzzed around like demented bees. No, rather than involve myself as a consumer in what I saw as a 'limited supply and over demand' situation, I targeted my advances at the vast bulk of pretty girls waiting hopefully in the shadows. With little competition, I successfully danced with, and then dated, a stream of extremely agreeable young ladies.

    When questioned by my friends as to my regular 'conquests', I advised three things :

         1. Become the supply in a market in which there is huge demand rather than the other way around.

         2. Provide best in class, well prepared goods or services – in the case of the dance hall, that was me!

         3. Ask for the business.

   As regards the last point, I never asked, “Yi duncin'?”, I asked, “Do you like the old or the new dance steps?” This prompted a reply like, “What's the difference?” To which I'd take the girl's hand and say, “C'm on I'll show you!”

   Does this approach sound familiar to you? If you're in business it should. Because successful entrepreneurs seek out sectors in which there is huge demand but very little supply. Then, like me, they set about creating the supply and ensuring the provision of best in class goods or services.

   And always ask for what you want. If you don't ask you'll remain forever the wallflower in the dance hall. But when you do ask, and frame your request compellingly, then you'll waltz off into the sunset with the belle of the ball. Are you dancing?

ARE YOU DANCING?  is an original copyright Tom Riach feature.
I hope you enjoyed this Summer Short and found it to be of value.
To learn more please visit me on my Author Page.
See you there! Regards, Tom.

is the 9th of twelve articles for light holiday reading in my 2020 series of  Tom's Summer Shorts. The tales are a blend of my real life experiences, professional insights, personal views and fun stories. My hope is that in them you find joy and inspiration.

   Sikandar was, by some way, the oldest trainee at the accountancy college where his Pakistani family insisted that he study. He had little enthusiasm for the profession chosen for him, so studied little and became less a budding number cruncher and more a serial failure. While generations of bright, young students came, crammed, sat their exams, qualified and moved on to professional employment, Sikandar lazed disinterestedly on, failed his resits again and languished at college for yet another year. So long had he been repeating his seemingly endless cycle of failure that professors and students alike constantly asked, “Why don't you just pack it in?”

  Had he done so, then the college would have lost not only the weary, weed-puffer, lolling half-asleep in class by day but also … the guy who threw the hottest weekend parties on campus! For what Sikandar lacked in enthusiasm for his purported profession he more than made up for in his passion for riotous living and cooking the meanest curries in town!

  Each weekend his tiny, city centre apartment became home to his legendary beer 'n curry fests. What seemed like the town's entire student population descended there, cavorting to an endless flow of iced beer and heaped bowls of steaming vindaloo. In any other block the neighbours would have raised hell at the blaring sitar and the heavy stench of curry, cannabis and joss sticks. But all the neighbours were at Sikandar's party too! On Saturday nights no-one suggested he should 'pack it in'. Instead he was urged to, “Pack them in!”

  Sikandar never did pass his accountancy finals. The college authorities eventually resolved that a mid-aged, bohemian in their midst was not conducive to the general repute of the college. So they 'let him go' ... or … “Packed him in,” as he joked with friends.

  He did find work as a 'junior' assistant in an uptown accountancy practice but was never entrusted with any meaningful responsibility. He spent his days exiled in a basement dungeon sifting through clients' cash receipts. When the firm's partners decided to sell off the basement, they were surprised when Sikandar bought it. In true Pakistani tradition his family lent him the money. And the accountants were distraught when he applied for, and despite their objections, was awarded a restaurant licence!

  Sikandar wasted no time in setting up his eatery and recreating the ambience of his student-days, Saturday night curry fests. Diners loved it. Soon his restaurant was known as the 'hottest' spot in town. His personal place of joy and fulfillment was the kitchen. He cooked his heart out and once again served the meanest curry in town. Customers came from near and far to revel in the heady party atmosphere of his curry and beer extravaganzas; all consumed to the hypnotic and very loud beat of the sitar.

  The accountants above, driven to distraction by the din when working nights and assailed by the rich curry aromas all day, eventually moved out. Sikandar purchased those floors of the building and converted them to restaurant too. When the renovations completed, he reopened as “Pack It In's Pack Them In Pakistani Food Joint”! The name created much hilarity when its origins were explained.

  And when diners congratulated him on the food, the vibrance of his restaurant and inquired as to his inspiration, he would habitually reply, “Did you permit someone other than yourself to choose food which you don't care for as your meal tonight? ... or did you yourself select a dish which you really like?” Then continued, “So be it in life. Don't do as others insist, follow your passion and do what you love.” Then he would add with a sly grin, “And when you do that I can absolutely assure you that no-one, but no-one, will ever tell you to pack it in!”

PACK IT IN or PACK THEM IN?  is an original copyright Tom Riach feature.
I hope you enjoyed this Summer Short and found it to be of value.
To learn more please visit me on my Author Page.
See you there! Regards, Tom.

is the 8th of twelve articles for light holiday reading in my 2020 series of  Tom's Summer Shorts. The tales are a blend of my real life experiences, professional insights, personal views and fun stories. My hope is that in them you find joy and inspiration.

   “You look kind of silly doing that,” opined Wally as he wandered, cigar puffing, into my backyard where I was exercising by running on the spot.

   “And you look kind of silly,” I quickly retorted through laboured gasps, “Poncing around with a smouldering roll of dried leaves in your gob!”

   In the immediate silence that followed our humourously barbed exchange, I gave thought to how people can see themselves and situations in totally different lights from others.

   There are those who are rigidly blinkered and only ever see things from their own point of view - never any other. Such people tend to be self-opinionated and selfish.

   At the opposite end of the spectrum are the 'pleasers'; those who always succumb to the wishes of others. These folks lack confidence and have low self-esteem.

   Between the two extremes there lies a vast range of personalities who see life from a variety of, and often constantly changing, perspectives. Such people, especially those consistantly towards the centre of the spectrum, could be said to be well balanced. They have the ability to appraise situations and the people enacting them as if in overview, from a position hovering above the scene rather than being anchored in it. This permits them flexibility of thought and action based on both self-interest and empathy.

   It is reminiscent of the teaching of advanced driving. In these courses students are encouraged, not only to see their drive as themselves in the car and looking through the windscreen and mirrors, but also to view their journey globally, as if consulting a map from above. In this way they can observe, plan and take consideration of the situation and needs of all the other drivers around them. The mantra is to progress safely, smoothly and speedily on their journey while creating the circumstance which permits the other road users to do likewise. A case of being both assertive yet considerate. It's a pretty good way of working.

   “Look Wally,” I continued, “I'm working out here. As you know I have no issue with you smoking. Anyone is free to ingest whatever they like into their own bodies, it's a basic freedom as far as I'm concerned and I'd never interfere in that. What I do ask is that you do your kind of 'puffing' in your own time and space and leave me to do my kind of 'puffing' in mine! - fair deal?”

   Wally shrugged his shoulders indicating agreement and sauntered off. I resumed my running on the spot. As I did so I caught my reflection in the mirror strategically placed for the purpose. My friend did have a point. I looked kind of silly.

LOOKING KIND OF SILLY  is an original copyright Tom Riach feature.
I hope you enjoyed this Summer Short and found it to be of value.
To learn more please visit me on my Author Page.
See you there! Regards, Tom.

is the 7th of twelve articles for light holiday reading in my 2020 series of  Tom's Summer Shorts. The tales are a blend of my real life experiences, professional insights, personal views and fun stories. My hope is that in them you find joy and inspiration.

   In my school days, I and my classmates were required to raise our hand when we wished to speak or to ask a question in class. Only when the form master indicated to a particular pupil, was that boy granted licence to speak, to say his bit. This discipline helped maintain order in the class; it also permitted the chosen individual to deliver his words uninterrupted. But, although this necessary code of conduct controlled when a person could speak, there was no limitation on what could be said. There was no censorship. All views, all opinions were welcome, freely expressed and respectfully listened to. The exchange of ideas and ideals thus shared is to this day recognised in enlightened society as … education.

   I awoke and looked around me. The surroundings were unfamiliar. Where was I? Confused, I arose, dressed and went outside. The street seemed normal, the people less so. Pedestrians passed by as if unseeing, robotic almost in their demeanour. When I tried to query of some as to 'what was going on?' I was hushed by disapproving looks and a single finger raised to the lips. Then one man furtively whispered in my ear, “You don't have a speaking licence,” and pointed to the plastic clip bearing his photo and a number which he wore on his lapel, before darting off as if in fear of punishment.

   Suddenly a loudspeaker mounted to the wall of a nearby building boomed out. “Applications for speaking licences are now being accepted. Report to the Ministry of Speech Control … ” and gave an address, which I established via hand signals with another reticent passerby to be only a block away.

   Arriving at the government department, a receptionist gave me explanatory notes to read and I joined the – silent – queue of applicants for speaking licences, all of whom were busy reading the 'instructions'. I opened my pamphlet and did likewise.

   “Speaking without licence, conversation of any kind, expressing unapproved opinions are forbidden by law,” it started, then went on, “Below are listed guidelines, the rules you must follow and notes as to what is permissible when you are granted your licence to speak. You will be tested on your knowledge of these and required to sign and confirm your adherence to them when completing your application.”

   I was absolutely … well … speechless! I read on -

          Speaking without a licence is a criminal offence

          The first rule of 'The Speak' (as they called it) is … Keep to the left – no right or centre speak allowed

          Speaking may be carried out only on designated routes known as Wokerways and Lieways 

          These routes are strictly One Way Speaks

          They are policed by Speak Cops

          Speak Traps are in place to catch those guilty of unauthorised or excessive speaking

          Speaking tickets and fines will be issued to offenders

          Speakers may be stopped and tested for Think And Thriving … the most heinious offence under the law ... punishable by cancelation of licence and lifetime speaking ban

          All applicants must pay for their licence in advance … there is no free speech!

   At this point I thought - 'surely I'm dreaming?' Either that or, like Rip Van Winkle, I had 'slept a long, long time' and come to my senses (or lack of them)! in an Orwellian era. But, when I checked in a nearby mirror I was not old and grey. No, the visage staring back at me was the same well lived in, if somewhat more incredulous, countenance which customarily greeted me.

   Feeling in need of a lie down and thinking time to contemplate the bizarre situation in which I found myself, I excused myself (silently) from the line of applicants and made to leave. But a security guard barred my exit.

   “Where are you going?” the burly fellow demanded. I pointed to my lapel to indicate that I was not in possession of a licence to speak and therefore not authorised to reply. He arrested me anyway.

   Next day in court I was charged with - “Failing to speak while knowingly in possession of the ability to do so. How do you plead?”

   Totally exasperated and wanting only to get the whole fiendish business finished with, I blurted out, “Guilty!”

   With not the slightest hint of irony the judge sentenced me to a ten year loss of speaking licence and imposed a hefty fine for speaking in court while not licensed to do so! I stifled a scream and returned to my apartment.

   Once there, I poured myself a stiff drink. Thus relaxed, I went to bed, confident that in the morning I would awake to 'normality'. After all, what I had experienced was clearly a dystopian nightmare in which the only ones with the right to speak were those most wanting to deny the right to others! No such horror could possibly exist in real life and the free society which I knew and cherished ... Or could it?

LICENCE TO SPEAK  is an original copyright Tom Riach feature.
I hope you enjoyed this Summer Short and found it to be of value.
To learn more please visit me on my Author Page.
See you there! Regards, Tom.

is the 6th of twelve articles for light holiday reading in my 2020 series of  Tom's Summer Shorts. The tales are a blend of my real life experiences, professional insights, personal views and fun stories. My hope is that in them you find joy and inspiration.

   My home town football team had qualified for their first cup final appearance in many years. On the day of the 'big match', I excitedly headed for the stadium. En route I stopped at a pub for one or three pre-game beers and struck up a conversation with some fans of the opposing team. In the course of the light hearted banter between us it emerged that these fellows had all placed bets on 'my team' to win. Puzzled, I asked, “Why?” Their revelation would prove to be, quite literally, life changing.

   “Easy,” I was told, “Of course we want our boys to win, that will make us very happy. But, if your team should happen to win, then we can drown our sorrows off our winning bets. Either way we win!”

   Such simple logic! On the one hand they'd win emotionally, on the other they'd gain financially. A true win-win situation. Why didn't I think of that?

   Well, after that I did think about it - a lot - and, in the interim, I have put the strategy into practice regularly. The result being that sometimes I've enjoyed the emotional euphoria of 'my favourites' winning, while on other occasions the pain of their defeat has been assuaged by a compensatory pay out from my 'friendly neighbourhood bookmaker'! Win- win indeed. So much so in fact that I soon took to wondering how I might be able to apply the same principle to life generally and to my business endeavours in particular? More so, how might I ensure that I won on both counts, emotionally and financially? - yes, I wanted it all ways!

   The solutions I came up with (there are several) are, of course, remarkably simple. Key to them all is … first and foremost in life, set out to help people, be it in small or in meaningful ways. Always do that and you'll always be emotionally satisfied. With that requirement established there only remains the, “How to ensure financial gain while doing it?” question.

   Well, when you help people, be it personally or in a business context, many will instinctively want to help you. They'll want to return the kindness showed to them. Some will offer you gifts; accept graciously. Others will inquire as to what you do in life, how you earn your living. Only reveal that when asked. Then, when your goods or services are ones that they want and can afford, you'll be able to assist them further and enjoy personal gain too by supplying their needs. Even if you are not a provider of what they ask for, know someone who is and who will pay you a commission. Or source what they want anyway. It's extra earning for you and might turn out to be the gateway to a new enterprise. Either way, the recipient of your original kindness will want to deal with you and will be happy to have you benefit from their purchase.

   When you employ the 'help others' strategy in this way, you experience both emotional and financial gain. You eliminate all risk from the 'bet'. There is no reckless risk, there is not even calculated risk. There is only what I call 'controlled non-risk'. You set up and control the situation, therefore you ensure the outcome. It's guaranteed win-win.

   It may only have been a football match, only a few beers and a laugh. But the lesson I learned that cup final day far surpassed the pleasure of winning. Yes, 'my' team did win the cup – great joy. But the opposition fans won too. They collected on their winning bets. I have much to thank them for. They showed me how to create and control win-win situations. They were smart fellows!

BET ON LIFE AND WIN EVERY TIME  is an original copyright Tom Riach feature.
I hope you enjoyed this Summer Short and found it to be of value.
To learn more please visit me on my Author Page.
See you there! Regards, Tom.

is the 5th of twelve articles for light holiday reading in my 2020 series of  Tom's Summer Shorts. The tales are a blend of my real life experiences, professional insights, personal views and fun stories. My hope is that in them you find joy and inspiration.

    There are many formulas for success in business and no one correct one …

   The former British comedian and actor Max Wall would often attribute his successs on stage to 'a song, a dance and a silly walk' – these being the basic elements which he deemed it necessary to include in his performance in order to captivate his audience.

   While I do not advocate adopting that approach in the boardroom, not literally anyway, figuratively speaking it's not a bad mental attitude to employ. After all if you are upbeat, humourous and 'whistling a happy tune' (inside your head at least) what better way could there be to approach your work?

   Wall also possessed a natural tragi-comic expression of the kind associated with the classic clown face and he used this to great effect in enacting the pathos inherent in his stage performances; as well as it being a great asset in the many straight acting roles of his later career.

   As regards business, I've long felt that acting is a skill which can be highly valuable in the commercial world. I learned early on, for instance, that the first solicitor to represent me in my various business and personal affairs was a skilled, stone wall actor. In consultations he adopted a dead pan expression and a steady stare which never wavered throughout the meeting. Therefore he was impossible to read. You couldn't know his thoughts. It was an impressive performance.

   Then there are politicians. Their public face is often the epitomy of fine acting as they deny the undeniable, defend the indefensible and turn every question asked of them into an opportunity to deliver their well rehearsed lines. Yes, they are actors.

   So, to succeed in business, there's a strong line of argument which suggests that the ability to act is a useful talent to possess. And, if you don't possess it, then perhaps you should seek to learn the skill. It could stand you in good stead in all sorts of situations.

   But, and this is key, rather than working to develop the ability to effectively pretend that you're someone other than yourself – someone more polished, stronger, more worldly, more sophisticated, whatever - why not devote that same energy to learning to perform better as yourself? For, regardless of what you might gain by playing out a part which is not you, just think of the gain to be had in being a better version of yourself. So that is what you should aspire to.

   Identify your own strengths then work at the way you present yourself and them to the world. This is what many entrepreneurs fail to do. They have the ability, the knowledge, the wherewithal to do great things in the market place but fail to deliver it in such a way as to win the business. As Oscar Schindler, the master entrepreneur in the classic film Schindler's List, replies when asked what his role in the business will be, "Presentation!" accompanied by an expansive hand gesture. He did indeed possess highly developed presentation skills and promoted himself with verve and charisma. Yes, presentation is everything.

   So think presentation, create a memorable persona for your audience and act out the best version of yourself. Present your very own song, dance and silly walk!

A SONG, A DANCE AND A SILLY WALK  is an original copyright Tom Riach feature.
I hope you enjoyed this Summer Short and found it to be of value.
To learn more please visit me on my Author Page.
See you there! Regards, Tom.

is the 4th of twelve articles for light holiday reading in my 2020 series of  Tom's Summer Shorts. The tales are a blend of my real life experiences, professional insights, personal views and fun stories. My hope is that in them you find joy and inspiration.

    We may be spiritual beings but we live in a material world. From our physical bodies to the planet on which we tread, the creatures which inhabit it and all that grows here are tangible entities, material if you like. But to the fabric of the natural world - the rocks, woods, earth and minerals - mankind has added, through ingenuity, invention and sometimes accident, new and wonderful materials.

   Concrete, glass, textiles, metals, silicon and the myriad other human creations are the materials of our civilisation. Our materials are, to a large extent, what allows us to behave like humans. Remove them and we are liable to be quickly confronted by the same basic struggle for survival as wild animals. Our clothes, our homes, our cities and all the other stuff which we animate through our customs, language and humour are not merely a display of our technological wizardry, they are part of who we are.

   From the coffee cup to the Kodak camera, stainless steel and paper clips; from ancient technologies of fabrics and ceramics to today's self-healing metals and bionic implants - we invented them and made them. They in turn make us who we are. Don't think so? Visit a war torn area or disaster zone!

   This fundamental importance of materials to us becomes apparent in the names we have given to the ages of civilisation – eg Stone Age, Bronze Age, Iron Age - with each new era of human existence being brought about by a new material. Will current times be known as the Silcon Age?

   Steel was the defining material of the Victorian era; architects used sheet glass and structural steel to produce skyscrapers that invented city life as we know it; product and fashion designers adopted plastics and used them to transform our homes and dress; polymers were used to produce celluloid and bring about the cinema, the biggest change ever in visual culture; aluminium and nickel super-alloys led to jet engines and worldwide cheap flight; and our bodies can be redefined by silicon, ceramics, plastics and tungsten - yes, materials maketh the man!

   This should not, however, distract from the reality that we are spiritual beings. Our spiritual wellbeing is far more important than the simply material. Without it we are greatly diminished as human beings. Those who pursue material wealth to the exclusion of all else are without soul. They risk never experiencing inner serenity, only shallow and short-lived carnal pleasure.

   So make spiritual wealth the bedrock of your existence. First and foremost strive to understand and follow the spiritual laws. These demand that you seek inner peace through helping others. With that belief in place and functioning, then you are well placed to explore and enjoy things material. This perfectly natural marriage of the spiritual with the material, allows for the creation of technology beneficial to mankind which both enhances the general wellbeing and satisfies the inventive and innovative urges of the species. Everything becomes possible.

   You can even build heaven here on earth - spiritually and materially!

A MATERIAL WORLD  is an original copyright Tom Riach feature.
I hope you enjoyed this Summer Short and found it to be of value.
To learn more please visit me on my Author Page.
See you there! Regards, Tom.

is the 3rd of twelve articles for light holiday reading in my 2020 series of  Tom's Summer Shorts. The tales are a blend of my real life experiences, professional insights, personal views and fun stories. My hope is that in them you find joy and inspiration.

   In order to own your own future you must become your own boss and work for yourself. There is no other way.

  Sure there are those of you who work for corporations, companies and employers who enjoy varying degrees of autonomy - but none of you decide exactly what work you will do, when and where you will do it and how much you will be remunerated for your efforts. And these four factors –

   * Choice    * Time    * Location    and    * Reward

   – are what determine whether it is you or someone else who owns your future.

   Look at it this way, would you in life generally :

   Accept a life in which you had no say over what you could or could not do each day?

   and

   Be happy to be instructed as to what your actions should or should not be?

   Do you understand that time, as in real life time, is your most precious asset? Why would you give it away to a third party or tolerate being told when and how you must use it? Why would you exchange it for a paltry financial return fixed by another party and never remotely close to its real value? … time is in fact invaluable.

   Why would you accept rewards, usually just material and therefore largely worthless, which fall far below your own valuation of your own self worth and your expectation of what you deserve from life?

   The answers to all those questions should be the same resounding - “I would not accept that!”

   So, if you would not accept those criteria in your life generally then why accept them in your place of work? And it is only by rejecting them in your working life that you can ensure that you enjoy the freedom of choice, use of your own time and reward for your efforts that you demand from life generally.

   Only as your own boss setting the working conditions that suit you and meet your own requirements as regards choice, self-determination and the rewards of quality life as well as material gain, can you be sure to experience in life generally all the happiness and joy which is your birthright.

   Only when fully in control of your choices, your time and your rewards can you truly control your life and all that results in it.

   Only then can you own your own future.

OWN YOUR OWN FUTURE  is an original copyright Tom Riach feature.
I hope you enjoyed this Summer Short and found it to be of value.
To learn more please visit me on my Author Page.
See you there! Regards, Tom.

is the 2nd of twelve articles for light holiday reading in my 2020 series of  Tom's Summer Shorts. The tales are a blend of my real life experiences, professional insights, personal views and fun stories. My hope is that in them you find joy and inspiration.

   Work in my investment business was stagnant. With little to do, I left my office and drove downtowm. The hand-painted “Noah's Ark Investments” sign outside a slightly shabby shop front caught my eye. Intrigued, I parked up and went inside.

   “How can I help you young fella?” came the hearty greeting from a ruddy-faced gent lolling in an old rocker. I kind of liked the 'young fella' line so immediately felt at home.

   “What's with the Noah's Ark Investments?” I queried, “Is this an investment business?” - my face screwed up in puzzled mode.

   “Oh it's an investment business alright my friend,” came the assertive reply, “But not just any investment business. It is the investment business., the genuine article, the real McCoy. You see, what I do here came around long before you or any slick greenhorns saw the light of day and it'll be here long after you're pushin' up daisies.”

   “So what do you do?” I asked feeling well scolded, “And how come the odd name?”

   “Nothin' odd about the name,” he snapped back, “It says what it is. Clear and simple.” Then, leaning forward he indicated that I park my butt on the threadbare recliner at his side and added, “Listen in an' you might learn something.”

   “Old Noah of biblical legend was no fool,” he started, “When he filled up that boat of his with two of every animal, he knew just what he was doing. He was investing in his future. Think about it lad.” Now I was a 'lad', even better! I eagerly leaned in to grasp the wisdom in prospect. It wasn't long in coming.

   “In due course, each pair of animals reproduced. Then the offspring in turn did likewise. Soon he had herds of cattle and flocks of sheep. That was his capital growth.” He paused to let the significance of that revelation sink in. Then he continued, “Some calves, lambs, chickens etc. he slaughtered. These gave him food, clothes and shelter. That was his income. Those he didn't kill grew into the herd or flock. That was his reinvesting his profit, his futures market if you like. And so the cycle continued. When he required something outwith of his own production capability, he bought and payed for it with a lamb, calf or chicken. That was his spending money.

   So you see son … “ (wow, now I was his son, how could I not like this guy)!, “ … Noah was the original investor. His methods are tried and tested. There is nothing new to learn about investing. All you need do is follow his example. Think about it. Noah neither attended Harvard nor wolved on Wall Street, he was much smarter than any of that.”

   Now my new friend beckoned to me and, with a conspiratorial wink, invited me to follow him. He led me to the back door and, throwing it open, revealed a back yard where gamboled several lambs, ducks and chickens.

   “These are but a few, my full 'investment portfolio' is on the farm out of town,” he laughed, “But I assure you young fella, good times and bad, they provide for my every need. More than that, what I do gives me, my family, my friends and my clients the greatest pleasure imaginable. Yes son, what I do is fun!”

   “So you recommend these 'investments' to clients?” I asked slightly bemused.

   “I surely do,” he responded, “I recommend them, supply them and provide ongoing management advice. It's a full proactive portfolio management service. Yup,” he slapped his thigh, “That's what I do,” and let out a hearty laugh. I was deep in thought.

   When I got back to my office some hours later, my PA was curious as to the cardboard cartons stacked in the back of my car. She was the more so incredulous when I explained it was my new investment portfolio and astounded when I showed her the rooster and six hens I had acquired. Back home I built a wooden henhouse in the yard. Every day I collect the eggs, sometimes I roast a chicken. The flock grows with each hatch of chicklets. I sell some to fund my next investment - a piglet. The “Noah's Ark Investments” sign I put above the henhouse door attracts a steady stream of inquirers. My investment business is flourishing!

   Easy teaser : Who is the legendary investor who, minus the farmyard, nonetheless employs the Noah's Ark investment strategy?

NOAH'S ARK INVESTMENTS  is an original copyright Tom Riach feature.
I hope you enjoyed this Summer Short and found it to be of value.
To learn more please visit me on my Author Page.
See you there! Regards, Tom.

is the 1st of twelve articles for light holiday reading in my 2020 series of  Tom's Summer Shorts. The tales are a blend of my real life experiences, professional insights, personal views and fun stories. My hope is that in them you find joy and inspiration.

   Dawn's first glimmer of light glanced into the bedroom in company with a cool morning air. The breeze brushed my chest with the softness of a mandolin lovingly strummed. Erna too felt it, her back being bared to the open window. She murmured a soft moan of appreciation. Slowly we awoke.

   Avocado, strawberries, rye bread, olive oil and spring water followed our arisal - subtle stimulations to taste to supplement our physical stirring from slumber. On the terrace, shielded from the sun still low and red to the east, we lingered long, unwilling to release ourselves from the languor of night fantasies and the lazy opening strands of day. Why move on? Whatever awaited further on in time, however enticing, could not surpass the idyll of the moment. Within that realisation lies the source of true happiness.

   Happiness, you see, is not life as in a perpetual belly laugh. Sure, that is fun. I'd recommend that you do it heartily and often. But true happiness is the contentment deep in your spirit which embraces you unflinchingly at all times. At some unexpected moments you feel it wrap itself around you, cling to your being and envelope your very soul as if in a warm chocolate goo. Yes, happiness is sticky! Once found, your inner self will not easily let it go.

   So, seek out happiness. Look for it in doing the things for which you have the greatest passion. Not only will that please you, it will please others and inevitably help them in some way in their lives. Doing what you love always rubs off on other people. That is the first great realisation of true happiness.

   The second great realisation of true happiness – and it will find you – is coming to appreciate the value of life's simple pleasures; those things which many people regularly take for granted and fail to fully appreciate. Are you daily grateful for fresh air, cool water, shelter, food, nature in all its forms, family, friends, love and, yes, laughter? You should be. They are not only the building blocks of happiness, they are the finished product. There is no further life experience beyond relishing these fundamentals from which to draw greater joy.

   Understanding this gloriously simple reality, seeking it out and installing it in your life is a time of immense spiritual awakening. It is in fact, the greatest awakening of all. An awakening surpassing even the subliminal dawn of which I write – and that is saying something!

AWAKENING  is an original copyright Tom Riach feature.
I hope you enjoyed this Summer Short and found it to be of value.
To learn more please visit me on my Author Page.
See you there! Regards, Tom.

Vivid Views  is my series of articles, blog posts and press releases show-casing my work as an author and reflecting my many years in business and self-employment. They are a blend of my real life experiences, professional insights, personal views and fun stories.
My hope is that in them you find enlightenment and inspiration.                                 'As Honest As The Day Is Long' is the 25th in the series.

   Lost as I was in my horticultural paradise, my mind fully engaged in pressing thoughts such as to choosing which Bordeaux or Bourgogne should accompany dinner and which glasses to serve it in, I did not hear the limousine pull up alongside where I pottered. I became aware of the intrusion only when the vehicle's passengers spilled out and their piercing jibber-jabber assailed my hearing. My initial reaction was that a bee, or a bevy of the buzzing beasties, had flown into my ear. They might as well have, the effect was the same. I jumped up as though stung.

   Squinting into the mid-afternoon sunshine I could at first see only a pair of polished brogues protruding beneath grey striped trouser bottoms, clearly of Savile Row origin. “Dear god!” I thought, instantly conscious of my tatty garden garb, “What monstrosity of supposed civilisation has descended on me?” My question was soon answered. The revelation turned out to be more ghastly than my worst fears. As my gaze travelled upwards I saw before me the unmistakeable, pompous visage of a … a ... politician!

   “Good day sir,” came the introductory whine from the devil creature, “I am Horace Hornblower, your prospective parliamentary candidate in the up-coming by-election caused by the unfortunate demise of my esteemed colleague the Right Honourable Sir Willie Wang-King who, as you may be aware, sadly passed away when the hot air balloon he was preparing to travel in blew up.”

   The fact that a politician might disappear in a poof of his own hot air did not seem to strike Hornblower as even vaguely droll, so I restrained a smile and with feigned gravitas inquired, “How dreadful, Lady Wang must be distraught?”

   “Yes,” sighed Horace, “She's looking forward to the acquittal!”

   I chose to let that bombshell revelation pass without comment and quickly insisted, “Look, I am terribly busy here but if you would like a cup of tea then … ”

   Before I could finish Hornblower cut in and launched into full Honest Horace mode.

   “I'm sorry,” he bellowed, “But I can't keep shying away from difficult questions like this. People want us politicians to be up front with them and tell them the honest truth, even if it makes for uncomfortable hearing. And that is why I will never apologise for saying, 'Yes please, I would love a cup of tea', and if that upsets some people then so be it. I'd far rather be known for stating loud and clear to the whole world, be they at home with their families, at work with their colleagues or at play with their children that I am now and forever will be proud to say, 'Yes, I will have a cup of tea', than duck the issue and ignore my duty to the people I serve!”

   I let him finish his faux pious diatribe before continuing very deliberately, “As I was saying … if you would like a cup of tea ... then there's an excellent tea shop just along the road. I won't say that they'll be delighted to see you but … ,” and here I faced him squarely and raised my voice, “I, sure as heck, will be thrilled to see you go! - and that sir - is the honest truth!” With that I turned my back on him and returned to my roses.

   As Hornblower clambered back into his limousine and the attentions of his fawning entourage, I congratulated myself on having practiced the 'honesty is the best policy' principle of which politicians know very little. Lingering long into the summer evening with my exquisite and soft scented rosebud companions, I lived my regular reluctance to let my paradise day end. The old adage 'as honest as the day is long' came to mind. By that measure, politicians live very short days. .

AS HONEST AS THE DAY IS LONG is an original copyright Tom Riach feature.
I hope you enjoyed this Vivid View and found it to be of value.
To learn more please visit me on my Author Page.
See you there! Regards, Tom.

Vivid Views  is my series of articles, blog posts and press releases show-casing my work as an author and reflecting my many years in business and self-employment. They are a blend of my real life experiences, professional insights, personal views and fun stories.
My hope is that in them you find enlightenment and inspiration.                                 'The Heart Of An Entrepreneur' is the 24th in the series.

   When I decided to become self-employed and set up my own business, I did not ask anyone's permission to do so. Why would I? Any such need would defeat the whole point of doing things for myself. Anyway, who would I ask? Family, friends? … they'd only say, “Don't do it,” … or government? - heck no, they'd tie me down with endless red tape and regulations. No, I just went 'out there' and got on with it. I neither asked for nor expected assistance. I knew that I had to accept responsibilty for my own actions, my success or my failure. Such self belief lies at the heart of an entrepreneur.

   Part of that belief is that those not involved in the enterprise should mind their own affairs. Well-intentioned outsiders are the opposite of helpful and governments should leave people and their businesses alone - unless they are doing direct harm to others. I believe in personal and business freedom, freedom of speech and freedom of action. I believe in a free market economy. All of these of course add up to accepting and enacting responsibily for my own thoughts and actions – nothing comes free in that respect.

   This is where those in society who constantly clamour to 'demand their rights' fall down because those who shout that mantra loudest are regularly the same ones unwilling to accept the responsibilities that go with the rights. Far from exercising freedom of choice, such individuals often expect someone else to shoulder their responsibilities and, tellingly, to pay for them. Nanny state politicians are only too keen to oblige. They 'buy out' the people's responsibilities with free hand outs in the form of welfare and other tax-payer funded benefits which pulls the recipients into their web, under their influence and imprisons them there. Such compulsion does not enhance individual responsibility – it diminishes it.

   In common with all coercive policies, compulsory diktat devalues the independence of the mature citizen. Forced redistribution of wealth does not work. Taking wealth from those who know how to create it and use it and giving it to those who only know how to consume it does not fix society's inequalities. Ultimately, the consequence is less social cooperation and less compliance. This severely hampers and does nothing to enhance society in general. It only hurts everyone in the end.

   So what of entrepreneurs? What of me? I trust myself to behave responsibly. I start by doing those things necessary to survive, then I do what's possible to further my cause. Then, almost magically, I find myself achieving the impossible. I spend only what I can afford and anything I don't have the money for, I do without or until I have created the wealth to support it. I am highly competitive and often ruthless in pursuing my goals. Yet I am not indifferent to the needs of others. At the heart of most entrepreneurs there beats a generous pulse. There is a simple explanation for this apparent contradiction.

   The fact is that, however determined and committed to success I am, my very adventurism inevitably means that I encounter difficulties and failed efforts along the way. At moments of hardship I have found myself brought back from the edge, revived and restored by improbable allies - friends and colleagues oft neglected, angels of mercy, mysterious strangers and the simple hand of friendship proffered by well-wishers.

   It is perfectly consistant therefore that I, and those like me, empathise with those we encounter who are struggling to get by. My generosity though is not blind, it is selective. Other than donating material relief in desperate situations, I'm inclined to help only those prepared to help themselves. A case of like helping like so that all can thrive. The 'help others to help themselves to help you' philosophy is central to how successful entrepreneurs work on a daily basis. It underpins how society prospers. It lies at the heart of an entrepreneur.

THE HEART OF AN ENTRPRENEUR is an original copyright Tom Riach feature.
I hope you enjoyed this Vivid View and found it to be of value.
To learn more please visit me on my Author Page.
See you there! Regards, Tom.

Vivid Views  is my series of articles, blog posts and press releases show-casing my work as an author and reflecting my many years in business and self-employment. They are a blend of my real life experiences, professional insights, personal views and fun stories.
My hope is that in them you find enlightenment and inspiration.                                 'In The Heat Of The Cold' is the 23rd in the series.

   My grandfather was a master baker in the city of his birth which was, at the time, the largest fishing port in Europe. As such my earliest work experience, early morning, after school and weekend jobs were in his bakery and in the fishing industry.

   The bakery was hot, an open-necked, sleeves rolled up environment where I learned to knead dough with easy-going, flour-ghosted tradesmen, bake bread and gorge myself on scorching hot Scotch pies straight from the oven! I needed them. Because from the bakery I high-tailed it on foot most mornings to the fish docks, freezing cold in the early hours of winter days, to unload trawlers, pack their cargo of wet fish in ice and deliver the bulky boxes to the fish processing houses for gutting and filleting.

   Where the atmosphere in the bakery was chirpy and cheerful, busy but sometimes subdued, the fish industry was an ever loud, vulgar, rough-and-tumble world, peopled by tough trawlermen and even tougher fishwives! The bakery taught me the skill of baking and the language of rolls, 'softies', loaves and 'fancies'. At the docks I learned how to handle, grade and cut fish and the coarse talk of the hardened souls which went with it.

   I also learned, not surprisingly, that fishworkers bought bread from the bakery and that bakers purchased fish from the fishmonger. On this realisation was my first enterprise born. It was a barter style arrangement whereby I supplied my friends at the docks with morning rolls and bakery goods and my baker colleagues with fresh fish. Each day the dockworkers awaited my arrival from the bakery before enjoying their early morning tea break with the hot rolls and pies I brought them. The bakers in turn relished my return from the docks with my fishy cargo before knocking off for the day and taking their fresh cod, haddock or herring home to their families for lunch.

   So I now had three jobs, a foot in two industries, friends from many different backgrounds and the education and future contacts to go with them. Of course I was neither the maker of the bread nor the catcher of the fish, the prime wealth creation activities, but, as a middleman between the two, I had unwittingly become a young entrepreneur! Later in life I would create my own goods and services but for now I was earning in both real terms and, more importantly as I would discover, in experience and goodwill.

   In due course my grandfather retired and the fish industry died. But the need of the populace to be fed lives on. There is always a market for fresh food. And there are always opportunities for those willing to grind that bit harder than the rest, get their hands dirty and use their native wit. Grandad, the bakers and the fish workers all knew that. I know it too - so should you.

IN THE HEAT OF THE COLD is an original copyright Tom Riach feature.
I hope you enjoyed this Vivid View and found it to be of value.
To learn more please visit me on my Author Page.
See you there! Regards, Tom.

Vivid Views  is my series of articles, blog posts and press releases show-casing my work as an author and reflecting my many years in business and self-employment. They are a blend of my real life experiences, professional insights, personal views and fun stories.
My hope is that in them you find enlightenment and inspiration.                                 'Out Of The Blue' is the 22nd in the series.

   The term 'out of the blue' refers to an event that occurs unexpectedly, without any warning or preparation. It originates from the phenomenon of a sudden thunderstorm striking from an immediately prior clear sky. It is likely that at some point in life you have experienced just such a soaking, most people have! And there's a good chance that you have been subject to some sort of other completely unforseen circumstance occurring in your life too … several probably. So, as much as an out of the blue experience is unexpected, you can be pretty sure that somewhere, sometime you will be party to one. In other words, you should expect the unexpected!

   Yes, the unexpected will find you .. but, and here's the key point .. it won't find you unless you make yourself available. That means putting yourself in the right place so that when the surprise arrives you will be open to receiving it. If, for example, you never go outside on a sunny day then there is no likelihood of you being caught in an out of the blue downpour. Nor will you get mugged in a dark alley late at night if you never go to such a place at such a time. And, on the brighter side, what chance is there of you enjoying plasant surprises if you do not position yourself to receive them?

   From an entrepreneurial viewpoint there is only one way to ensure that you are best positioned to benefit from positive windfalls – and that is to be self-employed. In that state it is you, rather than someone else, who can take advantage of extraordinary commercial opportunities as they arise.

   First of all though, you must work diligently at your chosen enterprise. Work hard, work smart, do all the right things to create a thriving, profitable and fun business … yes, be sure to enjoy yourself! As you do that, keep an eye out for the unusual, opportunities that may not be directly related to your activity or which may diverge from your chosen direction, but which nevertheless conform to your overall strategy. These 'out of the blues' remember, will not present themselves unless you are already establishing a formidable business presence; that is, you have made yourself available.

   But then, some day, the extra big break will just 'drop into your pocket' as if from nowhere. Believe me, it happens. I myself have experienced the phenomenon several times. Some of my most lucrative pieces of work arrived from 'nowhere'. Not all related directly to my mainline work - but I said 'Yes' anyway - and was able to carry out the work because I was in the right place (self-employed and working hard) to receive the surprises when they arrived. This is crucial, so I repeat – it is first essential to be successfully self-employed in the first instance. Make yourself well known, establish your reputation. That is the circumstance in which the windfall business deals may appear as if from nowhere. That is when you will enjoy success – out of the blue!

OUT OF THE BLUE is an original copyright Tom Riach feature.
I hope you enjoyed this Vivid View and found it to be of value.
To learn more please visit me on my Author Page.
See you there! Regards, Tom.