In this issue
At the Blanchard family's 1993 New Year's Eve party, Al Blanchard talks for the first time about retiring as president of Grandview Industries. Al, 67, is standing on the back porch of his rambling Southern California home, sharing brandy and cigars with his younger brother, Morris, with whom he has worked for 27 years. "I only want to do this for one more year, Morris," he confides. "I've had enough." Then he asks: "Do you want to run the company, or should we turn it over to one of the kids?"
Building a successful and thriving business is truly a miracle. It takes extraordinary energy and endurance as well as relentless determination to succeed against formidable odds.
If getting along with your grown-up siblings seems tougher than it should be, the problem may be partly semantic: Perhaps the words "grown up" should be used advisedly in reference to your siblings when they have merely gotten older. Not that you still consider them kids; it would probably be safer to refer to them, euphemistically, as "maturationally challenged."
Of course, they probably say the same about you.
"When I use a word," Humpty Dumpty said in a rather scornful tone, "it means just what I choose it to mean—neither more nor less."
"The question is," said Alice, "whether you can make words mean so many different things."
"The question is," said Humpty Dumpty, "which is to be master—that's all."
—Through the Looking Glass