As the guy primarily responsible for the “long view” at Art Dallas, New Year’s has a special significance for me. It’s far more than the “out with the old, in with the new” we all think about . It’s more global. Long-term, complicated projects like the new, interactive web-site and the decision to expand our physical plant to accommodate a more diverse product mix come under intense scrutiny.
In both cases, the decision to proceed represented large commitments of capital to expand and, in some ways, redefine our market presence. Will these decisions prove to be profitable? I don’t know. What I do know is that these decisions, properly implemented, will further serve to differentiate our little company from others in our field. Hopefully, our customers will find the new changes useful, helping them be more efficient and productive in their work. To the extent we’re successful in accomplishing this goal, the long-term effects will be beneficial to the company. If we’re unsuccessful in accomplishing this goal, for whatever reason, the decision to proceed will have been a bad one. It’s too early to tell. So the evaluative process continues.
How does someone with that sort of process going on spend New Year’s Eve? Why, he finds a good old flick on the tube and settles in with his thoughts.
Last night, Judy and I found one of our favorites, a movie called “Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?”, starring George Clooney, John Goodman and several other wonderful actors. Usually, I’ll watch this movie just to hear the music; old-timey gospel/bluegrass performed by a number of insanely talented artists. But the movie and its message is just as good and just as relevant.
For those of you who’ve been deprived by not ever seeing this movie, it is the (fictional) 1933 story of the escape of three inmates from a Mississippi state prison, theoretically to recover the “buried loot” Everett (George Clooney) stole and had the opportunity to hide before he was incarcerated. Actually, we learn somewhat later, the “loot” was a ruse used by Everett to convince his compatriots (an aggressive, but nearly normal fellow named Pete and the ever-gentle-but-impossibly-dumb Delmar) to make the break with him. You see, they were all three chained together when Everett saw his opportunity to escape. For Everett to break out of prison (and get home to his wife and 6 little girls), the others had to come with him. So Everett lied about the loot.
Like most Clooney pictures, “Oh Brother” has several levels of interpretation and meaning. First, there’s the observation that everyone, even the impossibly obtuse Delmar, has gifts. Whether they’re the result of a beneficent deity or random acts of genetics isn’t resolved. What is resolved, however, is that it’s not the gift itself, it’s how the gift is used that differentiates one segment of society from another and the long term outcomes that result. For instance, Everett’s gift is the ability to verbalize, hypothecate and manipulate others. As he says, he “has the gift of gab”. During the up-and-down course of their luck and status as they flee the wiley and relentless sheriff and his posse, Everett makes the mistake of showing a large roll of bills at a diner, attracting the attention of an itinerant Bible salesman named “Big Dan Teague” (John Goodman). From the outset, it’s obvious that Big Dan and Everett share the same gift; they can sell anything to anybody. The difference is that Everett uses his gift to get closer to his family, while Big Dan the Bible salesman (he declares himself to be in “the religion business”) uses his gift to beat up and rob Everett and the boys, laughing and saying, as he leaves them beaten and broken, “see ya in the funny papers”. In this case, the same gift is used to achieve wildly different objectives with enormously different social consequences. Everett and the boys find another common gift in their ability to make music which ultimately frees them. Big Dan is crushed by an enormous burning cross standing vigil to a huge Klu Klux Klan rally he’s a major player in. Fair’s fair.
Second, the role of hypocrisy in shaping societal outcomes is examined in several ways, but none so clearly as contrasting Homer Stokes (Wayne Duvall), the “reform” candidate for governor, with Pappy O’Daniel (Charles Darling), the crooked encumbent. Turns out, Homer’s not only the “reform” candidate for governor of Mississippi, he’s also the Grand Kleagle of the local Klu Klux Klan, a fraternity he ultimately makes the mistake of assuming includes all the voters of his state. With the O’Daniel camp all but ready to concede the election to Homer, he recognizes the “Soggy Bottom Boys” (Everett, Pete, Delmar and an African-American guitarist named “Tom”) as the desperadoes who broke up his Klan meeting (who’s agenda was to lynch Tom, an act Everett et al prevented) as the boys begin to play their hit song “I am a Man of Constant Sorrow”. Homer becomes something of a persona-non-grata to both the KKK and the rest of his fellow Mississipians by stopping the act because (among other things) the group “interfered with a lynch mob in the performance of its duty” and “desecrated a burning cross” (and besides, “they ain’t even white”). Since the event was being broadcast live on the radio, Homer, the head of the world’s most secret hate group, admitted to the whole world illegal and highly secret acts. Needless to say, Pappy was back on top after the klansmen collected Homer and removed their former Grand Kleagle from the hall. The message? How about, sometimes bad is as good as it gets and what advertises itself to be good just isn’t.
Third, and perhaps most important, is the role of fate in our lives and the factors which may (or may not) influence it. Basically, the “Soggy Bottom Boys”, while criminals, meant no harm, regardless of what they’d done to get into prison. After all, it was the depression. Vast segments of society had no option other than crime to survive. So the moral question was countered by the question of desperate need, not intent. This set these “criminals” apart from the citizens at large, whose intent was guided by hate and bigotry, but who were held to be “respectable” by society. That the smallest random act of bad luck could easily have put any of them in the same position as the “Soggy Bottom Boys” was ignored. Life went on, betting that bad things wouldn’t happen to them.
The issue of fate is addressed directly in the prophesy of the Blind Seer, a character reminiscent of the commentator in Greek plays (or, more recently, the Stage Manager in Thornton Wilder’s “Our Town”), who (miraculously) appears on the scene to give Everett et al their first break; a ride away from prison on a small, manually powered railroad cart. When asked what will happen to them, he replies:
“I cannot tell you how long this road shall be, but fear not the obstacles in your path, for fate has vouchsafed your reward. Though the road may wind, yea, your hearts grow weary, still shall ye follow them, even unto your salvation.”
which is exactly what happens in the end.
The changes we’ve made at Art Dallas over the past year were intended to increase and extend our usefulness to the architectural and design communities. Hopefully, the cost of the changes will be made up for by increased volume and efficiency. Given time, we will be able to quantify how successful our decisions have been. That will help us understand where we need to go from here. If fate is kinder to those whose acts are driven by good intent and whose gifts are used in positive ways, then Art Dallas will be fine. Serving our customers better is our only goal. I believe that given time, the changes we’ve made will accomplish this goal. Barring some unforeseen disaster like 9-11, I think the new year will bring good things to Art Dallas through the new avenues we’ve developed. I would like to think we’ve stayed true to the principles we had when we started our little company. As the seer suggests, I intend to follow them “even unto (our) salvation”. Should the path get unsure, I pray that the many friends and associates we’ve had over the years will bring the need for a “course correction” to our attention.