Dear Occupy Wall Street Protesters: When Did I Become the Bad Guy?

 

It seems that as a pro-capitalism, successful business leader that I am somehow partially to blame for what ails the protesters who’ve joined the Occupy Wall Street (OWS) movement. I am the enemy. I am the bad guy.

While I’ve tried desperately to comprehend both their demands and their end game, I have to admit that I am at a loss. One day someone who seems to be an OWS muckety muck (they don’t have any true leaders as of this writing) is claiming that all of capitalism must go; though the next day the protesters are joined by union leaders (whose members are employed by companies that benefit from capitalism) and the message is that corporate greed must go. (Is there anything more amorphous than “corporate greed?”)

It would be nice, actually, if they only had these two viewpoints; but the truth is that for every smelly twenty-something you see holding a sign (or an iPhone), there is a different take on what it is they are trying to “solve” with these protests.

I put the word solve in quotes because I’m not sure they want to solve anything. They really just seem mad that they don’t have all the same luxuries as the successful people in our society (the bad guys). Most of them just seem to want those of us who’ve worked for what we have to give it all back to “society” so that we can all be equally miserable doing without.

When Did I Become the Bad Guy?

By most protesters’ definition, I am a bad guy. I have my own business and I make a good living. My children have cool gadgets and we live in a nice house; in a nice neighborhood. I am really very satisfied with my life. A life, I might add, that did not happen by accident. So I need to know: When did I become the bad guy?

As an eight-year-old in 1971, I began selling candy door-to-door in Glendale, Arizona. I’m not sure how much I made, but it was probably somewhere around $10 per week. (We were poor when I was growing up, so if I wanted to buy anything, I had to earn the money to buy it.)

Is this when I became the bad guy?

From around 1973 through 1977, I ran paper routes (sometimes one route in the morning and one in the afternoon) and sold magazines, newspaper subscriptions and seeds door-to-door. I used my money to buy sports cards, comic books, bicycle parts and candy.

Is this when I became the bad guy?

Throughout my high school years (77-81), I worked at fast food joints, a minor league ballpark and an amusement park. (I doubt there was ever 20 consecutive days that I was out of a job.) I used the money I earned in high school to buy a motorcycle, then a car, fill those with gas, buy beer (yes, illegally) and eat at Jack-in-the-Box or McDonald’s on occasion.

Is this when I became the bad guy?

From 1981 until 1985, I served in the US Marine Corps; mostly on the island of Guam. I was a Russian Linguist in the Corps and I worked what some civilians would think was not only a weird schedule, but probably inhumane. It was called a “2-2-2 and 80.” With this schedule, you worked two day shifts (8AM-4PM); two mid shifts (12AM-8AM); and two eve shifts (4PM-12AM); then you had 80 consecutive hours off. You only had eight hours between your second day shift and your first mid shift; likewise after your second mid shift. I used the money the Marines paid me to buy beer, a computer, stereo equipment, a car and some pretty cool Christmas presents for my family every year.

Is this when I became the bad guy?

After the Marine Corps, I enrolled at Arizona State University where I took a full class load while I worked fulltime to pay my bills. (During my time at ASU – among other equally glamorous jobs – I drove a taxi, worked as a security guard and even sold manure.) As my money got tighter, I took fewer classes and worked more jobs. I studied business, though because I eventually ran out of room on my credit cards, I left ASU deeply in debt and a few credits short of a bachelor’s degree. Ready to just join the workforce and not worry about college, I accepted a job as the manager of an aircraft parts warehouse and worked very hard to do my part to help this Mom & Pop operation become successful.

Is this when I became the bad guy?

A couple of years later, in 1991, my soon-to-be wife and I moved to Chicago so that I could begin work for a beer distributorship as a salesman. Once I arrived, I made sure that I always worked harder and smarter than any of my coworkers. As a result, I was promoted to a territory sales manager position and given a nice raise.

Is this when I became the bad guy?

After I got married in 1993, I decided to go back to school and finish my degree at Governor’s State University. I endeavored to finish my education by working during the day and going to school at night (and on some Saturdays). About a month before my first son was born in July 1994, I finally earned my bachelor’s degree.

Is this when I became the bad guy?

By the time I left this beer distributorship in mid-1997, I had worked my way up to Vice President of Sales earning $73,103 in 1996 (when you included all my bonuses). Even though I now had two sons at home, I was working more than sixty hours each week to better myself.

Is this when I became the bad guy?

From mid-97 until mid-2001, I owned a tiny minority stake in an equally tiny beer distributorship in Missouri. As the managing partner of this wholesale operation, I often arrived at work before 5 AM to load the beer trucks. Once I finished my morning paperwork, I would go out into the field to meet with retailers and convince them to carry my product (which was not easy since the previous distributor had gone bankrupt and left the market without my brands for more than eight months). I was a business owner in name only (because the banks really owned the business) and some nights I worked past midnight. Over the four years that I ran the operation, we were able to dramatically grow our sales (easy to do when you start at the bottom) because of hard work and a lot of perspiration. We sold the brands we distributed in May 2001 to a couple of competing wholesalers, and I reentered the corporate world.

Is this when I became the bad guy?

From 2001 through 2009 I moved my way up through various companies by always outworking my counterparts. I not only worked harder, but I also studied (as I had been doing since 1991) all the industry information and business success literature I could get my hands on. I was a voracious reader of the likes of Tom Peters and Stephen Covey. I am convinced that my success over that period was due to the hours I dedicated towards working hard and studying equally hard. In 2009 I reported to the CEO of a Fortune 500 company.

Is this when I became the bad guy?

In 2009 – during the worst recession of my lifetime – I left the safety of the corporate world and started my own business: part consulting and part developing products to make others more successful. Over the last two years I’ve routinely worked more than twelve hours a day, including most weekends; and my travel schedule, while not as grueling today as it was in 2009, still earns me 1st Class upgrades on nearly every flight. I feel like I’m finally bringing in enough money to help my sons (I have three of them now) get a better head start than I got; to help them to not run out of money while going to college; and to help them choose a career that’s fun for them, rather than taking the route I took and always having to work to pay the bills. My business is doing so well that I expect to start hiring fulltime workers in 2012 (provided the economic and tax situations make that a feasible decision). I have no debt (other than a house I’ve been trying to sell in Atlanta) and we’re putting away a good amount for our retirement.

If I hadn’t become the bad guy before now, then clearly it was my decision to chase the American Dream (and my ability to catch it) that made me the bad guy to the Wall Street protesters. Just so I can get this straight: It’s okay to chase the American Dream, but if you happen to catch it, be prepared to be asked to give it all back to those who weren’t willing to sacrifice as much as you were…

…

I wish I had some great wisdom to bestow on those protesters who think I’m the bad guy. I wish there were words to ease the minds of those who are (in effect) protesting the fact that my “greed” will someday create jobs for them – jobs that will allow them to chase the American Dream if they so desire.

Unfortunately for the protestors, the words they need to hear will not ease their minds. They should have heard these words years ago from parents who should have taught them about hard work and dedication to a job well done.

The words I have for the Occupy Wall Street crowd is simply this: Stop bellyaching; retract your outstretched paw looking for a handout; go home and shower; and (as I did my entire life) seek out any job you can get. Once you’re in that job, work harder and smarter than everyone else and good things should happen for you.

And if they don’t, then you start over.