A man and his Dog

A couple of band meetings ago (You can never tell as they all blur into one another) a fellow from outside the tribe wanted to join. He had no blood-ties into our tribe and this made his task difficult, but he wanted to none the less. Well, just like certain bugs need light hypocrites look for any opportunity to have a stage and this was such an opportunity.

At this meeting the usual suspects had their two cents (believe me its not worth any more than this) to say. Two in particular, let me call them Man and his Dog, had the most to say. They wondered aloud why this young fellow wanted to join our tribe. "We're going nowhere," was one howl, or "We're going broke," was another. Add to that a liberal dose of "We don't have a future," and "The tribe is going down the tubes," blabbedy, blabbedy, hill-billy blah. The Dog barked and asked what we get for the chief councillors honorarium. Nothing wrong with this, other than the fact the only financial statements one of them is familiar with are ones from here.

As is the case with these things it's always the least educated and most ignorant with too much time on their hands who have the most to yelp about. Substance is another matter, but with the Man "substance" refers to what he's abused most of his life, thickening of the cerebral cortex and numbing of the reasoning center of the brain and all.

Well, the day of reckoning came-- end of the fiscal year when the results of a financial audit is released. The doom and gloom the nest of chirping birds spoke about never materialized. Nope. The financial peril our tribe was in never materialized.

As it turns out one item in the audited financial statements let all the (hot) air out of the doom sayer's claims, namely the matter of the $30,000 surplus recorded. No financial crisis, no bankruptcy, no DIA taking over management of the bands affairs. That surplus sits painted a red x on their foreheads. The auditor must have been a magician because with a wave of his wand (pen)he induced silence.

Dogs usually quieten when slapped on the snout and this explains the silence in the room. It may as well be enjoyed while it lasts because it won't.

Smart dogs learn a lesson from a beating; dumb ones mindlessly try again and again. Of course the silence includes no "I'm sorry's," or "I was mistaken," or even "I should have checked before I talked." No, that requires a simple regard for other people’s feelings. It also requires feeling shame for being so knowingly mistaken. But no.

If there's anything I've discovered watching this schtick play over and over its these folks possess none of these basic human attributes. Reading about this kind of leader I swear I was reading about The Man. The Man and His Dog and the nest of chirping birds all have something in common too, namely this.

Every once and awhile an inadvertent example is made out of mindlessness. It often happens by accident, and when least expected, but it happens. Nothing needs to be said afterward because it's all been so succinctly said and done. A fitting dish is on the menu especially for them.

Eat up. Dinner is served.