huckers and stackers

When I was growing up, my mother always kept stacks of of stuff on the kitchen counters. She kept things on the logic that they might be useful one day and the carefully catalogued vertical pile was the organizational mechanism of choice.

Curiously, my first wife employed this same style of household storage with countless piles of stuff piled about the house. Ditto for wife now. There is no horizontal surface that does not feature items perched upon each other in groups of at least two.

I am not a stacker. I am a hucker. I would rather repurchase an item I have thrown out on the unlikley chance I'll need it again. Without the influence of a stacker in the house, my horizontal surfaces would be completely free of sequenced vertical organizational structures.

This leads me to the cruel irony that huckers and stackers tend to marry each other, and so each is forced to learn to reconcile their dipolarity.

The universe is not without a sense of humour.

I am, by the way, raising a daughter who is, not surprisingly, a stacker. She too will marry a hucker and will have the opportunities for personal growth that that offers.

an unusual definition of honesty

When my kids were growing up, we'd often talk about moral dilemmas and what each might do to resolve them. It was my way of talking about my values with my children.

I have a clear definition of stealing that applies to physical items, computer software, music downloaded on the internet and if I'm careful magazines. If I have not paid for something and I do not have the owner's or author's permission to consume the item, that's stealing.

Both my kids have no songs on their iPods that they did not pay for. Neither do I. I've paid for every piece of software on each computer I own. It's a respect I have for people who create things. I honour intellectual property.

I wrote a column at Alberta Venture Magazine for a few years back called "the business of life". As part of the arrangement, the magazine acquired full rights and ownership to the articles I wrote for them.

One day, at Chapters, I saw a copy of the magazine and went to my column and read the article.

My kids were with me and so I asked them if reading the article constituting shoplifting.

I'm not always careful in my definition of stealing as it applies to reading magazines in Chapter's, which is, strictly speaking, shoplifting.

But then I pointed out to the kids that I wrote the article. Then how could that be stealing? It's stealing, we concluded because I sold the rights to the article and thus it was now not mine. When I consumed a product without payment and without permission, I was, once again, strictly speaking, a thief.

It's an extreme example, but it's in the extreme examples that we discover who we are, really.

My definition of an honest man is one that knows when he's lying, cheating and stealing. Since we are all, in even some small way, liars, cheats and thieves, it's good not to fall down the slippery slope of justification. (If you question this logic, consider this: if you've ever driven over the speed limit, you are a cheater; if you've ever told someone they look good in an outfit that they didn't, you are a liar and if you've ever read a magazine in a Chapter's without paying for it, you are, like it or not, a thief.)