Sunday, June 30, 2024

Brownie, Daniel, and me – a balancing act

Daniel and I have been a couple for over 18 years and married for nearly 14 years.  With time we have gained perspective on our needs and how we think – both as individuals and collectively.  What I have learned during my previous relationships, and even more in this one, is that for the relationship to succeed both parties must be aware of the other person’s needs and how one’s own actions affect the other person.  Truly, this applies not just to romantic relationships, but to professional relationships and friendships.

Anyone who believes that either Danny or I “wears the pants” in our relationship is sorely mistaken.  We both wear the pants both figuratively and literally – in fact, we’ve even accidentally worn each other’s pants.  Over the last few years, we have agreed to extend to each other mutual and reciprocal veto power.  It’s a power we each use sparingly.  I sometimes wish I’d vetoed a trip we took a couple years ago that led to a period of stress which is still impacting us.  But hindsight is seldom actually 20/20, so it’s difficult to know what our lives would be like if we hadn’t taken the trip in question. 

I recently reminded Danny that he had veto power and should use it if he thought necessary.  Early this month, I saw a post on Next Door from a woman who needed to rehome her eight-month old puppy.  It was a fairly typical scenario: she had a dog, adopted another partly to keep that dog company, but between the two dogs and two children, it became too much.  The resemblance between this dog, Brownie, and our dog Mason, was so striking that it took my breath away.  I told Daniel about it and he was skeptical about adopting another dog – especially a youngster who would need training, further vaccinations, neutering and microchipping.  I countered that, as we were making more money than when we adopted Mason and had recently paid off our mortgage, we had the income.  So, Daniel reluctantly said we could at least meet Brownie. 

The next day, we met with Brownie in a neutral setting.  I immediately noticed how well he got along with the other dog, a Pomeranian.  He was very friendly, and typical of many puppies, has yet to learn not to jump on new human acquaintances.  After a few minutes, I pulled Daniel aside.  As we discussed whether to adopt Brownie, I advised him that if he wanted to veto getting a dog, then there would be no hard feelings on my part.  He thought about it for a moment, then gave his consent.  I spoke to the lady and agreed to adopt Brownie and pay the modest rehoming fee she wanted, provided she would share his medical records.  She agreed, texted me the records, and offered his crate as well. 

Top: Mason. Bottom: Brownie. 
The resemblance is striking.

Since then, Brownie has become accustomed to the two of us and we to him.  The first week was a litany of accidents.  But he learned the rules of the house and by the end of that week, we even took him camping with us.  Since then, we've taken him to a restaurant with an outdoor patio and a family member's birthday party.  For a pup of his age, he’s very well socialized.  He had his first visit with our local veterinarian where, after the usual lab tests, he was pronounced “perfect.”   Brownie does not have the confidence that Mason had at his age and he suffers from separation anxiety.  But he’s learning the rules of the house, has dramatically improved on his potty training, and is learning the usual commands of “sit,” “lay down,” and leash manners.  Most important, the bond between Brownie his two humans is strengthening with each day – at times you can feel the Oxytocin flowing.    


Brownie at home with us.

Brownie partying with Daniel's family.

There are the usual stresses with introducing a new element into the household.  But Danny & I communicate our needs with each other, support each other’s quest to continually improve ourselves, check ourselves and each other for shortcomings.  Our mutual and reciprocal veto power is coupled with the wisdom to use it sparingly and only when absolutely necessary. 

Anyone who tries to come between us, who tries to play one of us against the other, does to at their own peril.  Brownie is already learning that lesson.  Spart pup.

Saturday, June 8, 2024

Sunk Costs in Business, in Defense, and in Relationships

“In economics and business decision-making, a sunk cost (also known as retrospective cost) is a cost that has already been incurred and cannot be recovered.”  A succinct description from Wikipedia. 

 

History is full of investments that were kept going longer than they should have due to the costs already incurred. 

 

Concorde is one.  At a certain point, the British and French governments realized that they would never recoup their investments in commercial supersonic transport.  Politics and the prospect of elected officials having mud on their collective face for financing the project with taxpayer money prevented those governments from abandoning the project.  While Concorde eventually made money for British Airways and Air France, the taxpayers never recouped their investment and the benefits of Concorde were enjoyed exclusively by the wealthy.  The environmental impact included egregious noise pollution and ozone-depletion.  Concorde flights were abandoned after three decades.  While there are very tentative hopes for a return to commercial supersonic transport, they are unlikely to come to fruition anytime soon – and if they do, will doubtless be enjoyed only by the wealthy.

 

The United States Navy’s littoral combat ship program is another example.  As someone from a Navy family, I’ve followed developments closely.  But anyone who even casually follows military news knows the problems with the Freedom class and Independence class littoral ships: Engine maintenance problems, a transmission design defect, hull cracks, corrosion problems, very limited life expectancy – about 10 years, which is not a good return on investment. After the first two ships of the Independence class were built and tested, the Navy issued a report that the ships were not performing as expected and that further construction of this class should be abandoned. After all, as Franklin Roosevelt said “It is common sense to take a method and try it. If it fails, admit it frankly and try another.” The ships are not working - cut the Navy's losses and move on. Congress and Senate overrode the Navy’s recommendations and the authors of the report saw their Naval careers ruined.  16 Freedom class and 19 Independence class ships have been built or are in process.  The politicians who were pushing for more Freedom and Independence class ships to be built had received large contributions from, you guessed it, the defense contractors who were building the ships. Meanwhile, many who’ve had to serve on these ships have quipped that the LCR in the registry number stands for “Little Crappy Ship.”  I personally heard a midshipman utter that phrase when I recently visited one such ship. 

 

Then there are the investments one makes in loved ones that, for whatever reason, don’t yield a return.

 

Life is a continuous series of investments. 

 

Investments can be financial, physical, or emotional.

 

Our lives start, hopefully, with responsible parents who invest in us by ensuring we are healthy: that we receive good nutrition and medical care, including vaccinations. 

 

As we mature we begin to invest in ourselves: by educating ourselves, eating healthy, getting exercise, avoiding unhealthy vices.

 

As adults we invest financially: in our homes, by starting a business, by purchasing stocks.

 

We invest in loved ones by helping them financially or emotionally - often believing in them when few others do.

 

Helping empower loved ones so they can make the most of themselves is an investment.  Providing assistance without expecting them to try and improve their own lot is charity.

 

Some investments yield positive outcomes, some do not.  There is no reward without risk.

 

As with financial investments, there comes a time to assess one’s investments in a loved one.  It can be painful to admit that the investment is not yielding positive results.  But when one accepts this, we must face our own disappointment, and decide whether to keep investing – hoping things will turn around and that it will have been worth the “sunk cost” – or to cut our emotional and/or financial losses, and move on.