The Messy Business of Death

The Light Shall Overcome The Night

When you find yourself alone in the shadows
Void of peace and tricked by deceit,
Know that light flushes out the dark
And there's a light deep within your heart

If you find yourself in a crowd blind of clear sights,
Remove yourself from their company, and find some light

It will always be darkest before dawn
So prepare yourself a light
Because darkness will surely come

For shadow shrouds over everyone and everything,
Never are you alone when the night comes to cling

We all share the same sun and the same moon
But with life comes fire, let us use it to banish the present gloom

Together, when we all contribute to the fire
We can create warmth and huddle around the campfire
Until this present darkness expires

Some may be lost within the pitch black, and absent day
Some may even run wild in search of prey 

But know this..
Within your heart can start a spark,
The smallest fire can give birth to soaring flames
So bright you might even forget the darkness even came

The light shall overcome the night, breaching through the skies
So hold fast to your light, whatever it may be
A candle, a torch, a lantern, or even the full moon shining across the seas -Justin Worthy

SAVVY SORCERESS SEEKING WISE WIZARD

Sometimes witches just wanna have fun. 

'Savvy sorceress is seeking to expand her quest to find a wise wizard for an enchanting association. To be clear, I am not looking for warlocks with benefits as I have medical, dental, and other pension perks from my own exciting career manufacturing broomsticks. Additionally, I am not into FBs (fortuneteller buddies) due to their limited appeal. However, an astute conjurer of words might be able to whisk me away from my coven if he bewitches me with sagacious spells, charms me with clever hexes, and demonstrates witty sophic soothsaying. 

This sibyl's diversity of interests includes advising Macbeth, brewing potions, cauldron cooking, and hanging out at the lair. My prognostications foresee a likely bond with an available alchemist who rather enjoys the company of a quirky crone with a wicked sense of humor and a penchant for the innovative. Would be thrilled to experience magical magnetism with the right oracle. 

BTW: those already hypnotized by marriage, mesmerized by other enchantresses, or are besieged by misfortune tellers would be better off following the yellow brick road."

Death of a Brewery

A few years ago I knew a competent PhD biochemist, who in a fit of mid-life pique, decided to pursue his dream of owning a brewery after being laid off from his pharmaceutical job. His unfulfilling marriage to a successful physician, the pressure of raising two trophy sons, and a bruising lay off from a prestigious job, seemed to propel his unrealistic dream of making it big as the brewmeister of a scientifically produced exceptionally crafted beer. Defying all logic and business acumen, he proceeded backed primarily by his wife's and other investor's money. Indeed, initially things seemed to be heading in a positive direction-he took top prizes at the State Fair for his micro-brewed beer. That is, until his marriage crashed, the economy tanked, and the competition of over 250 other equally impressive microbreweries in the county overwhelmed his crafted cathexis. His brewery was outgunned by his competitors: under capitalized, poorly marketed, and naively managed, he continued to throw good money after bad attempting to sustain his burgeoning business nightmare.

The problem with most intelligent scientists is they are impeccably trained to persevere in spite of obstacles or until the research funding runs out. Their hubris does not permit them the insight that, because they are successful in one area in life, they might not be successful when they are out of their league in another area. Probably the biggest Achilles heel of any scientist is a reluctance to foresee failure. The Scientist Brewmeister knew he was not all that great when it came to business but continued to raise funds from investors, even when all signs were indicating his brewery was as solvent as the S.S Titanic. As a member of MENSA, he was too smart to fail.

Coming from a more humble background, I listened to the Scientist Brewmeister's stories of endlessly seeking investors and knew his desire for beer-driven success and prestige was a pointless exercise in futility. Not being a businesswoman, I could see he was way over his head. He was a small fish in a big pond of more moneyed, established, and popular craft beer entrepreneurs. The sign on the wall was not big enough for him to walk away before disaster struck. We drifted apart but I wondered how long it would take before his world would come crashing down.

This week I read an article in a local paper how the Scientist Brewmeister put his brewery up for sale last year. He had hoped a larger craft beer company would financially absorb him but continue to allow him keep his craft brands. That did not happen. To prevent foreclosure he sold off 90% of his brewery, kept his brands, and is now trying to keep alive producing beer for his small biergarten in an industrial park way off the beaten path. One does not need to be a psychic to know this a last ditch attempt to stave off the inevitable. Going from scientist to beermaster/bartender in a biergarten has got to be a stinging consequence of his poor business acumen.

The Scientist Brewmeister is now close to sixty. Divorced from his largest most pissed off investor, financing two kids in college, and facing the demise of the last of his dream, his world has collapsed. This is not the happily ever after story he envisioned. He admitted his choices were to go back to the pharm industry or be a beer consultant. Re-entering the traditional marketplace after being away from academia and the pharmaceutical industry for more than a decade he will discover the true cost of his mid-life crisis. Sixty years of age is ancient in a data-driven, publish or perish world. A highly competitive marketplace awaits the advanced degreed in this millennial world. 

Underneath the hard crustiness of most emotionally detached scientists, there lurks a great deal of insecurity covered up by arrogance and delusions of intellectual invincibility. The Scientist Brewmeister is a lesson in how pride goeth before the fall and how a high IQ does not guarantee success. 

Because of my background in vocational consulting, I knew his mid-life fantasy, financed by his ex-wife, would likely end up in ruin. It is well known in vocational counseling that starting a business is the least successful vocational option once someone loses a job because of it having the highest percentage of failure. Frequently people who take this option do not have the entrepreneurial verve to make it work and usually won't listen to reason. It is a sad footnote for me that there was nothing I could have said or done to have prevented his fall. I wrote him to tell him how sorry I was that he lost so much. No reply is expected.