Thoughts at random in these turbulent times Not only did much grind to an abrupt halt, but our lives were changed forever by the cowardly attack on our country—make that attacks, plural. Initially, we were told it was our patriotic duty to shop till we dropped, to show those who would destroy our peace, our tranquility, that they didn't succeed with their nefarious deeds. That urging soon was rescinded; shoppers were told to avoid crowds, such as in the malls of America. Halloween was the holiday that wasn't, as malls cancelled parties, erected cement barricades to hold terrorist vehicles at bay. Homeowners turned off their outside lights, hoping against hope no one would ring the doorbell shouting "Trick or Treat!" Who among us hasn't experienced the sleep-troubling, if vague and imprecise, dreams and quasi nightmares? Disquieting thoughts about vague bogeymen that help contribute to our nervousness, our inability to concentrate on the task at hand. That cause us to experience fatigue. News item: A plane is diverted to the nearest airport, its escort fighter jets, all because a note falls out of a passenger's magazine, no doubt someone's idea of a huge joke. And, again, who among us hasn't backed off the horrific thought—imagine!—that perhaps under certain circumstances, torture of prisoners is okay, acceptable? The more scary the news, the more palatable torture begins to sound—at least, to some, if not all of us. My spouse predicted employee absences would go through the roof as the terrorist pressure persisted; sadly, she was right. Doctors' offices have to be flooded with patients pleading for something, anything, to help get them through the day, and through the night. In this milieu, a company's annual report to many may seem inconsequential. Yet, it's a document, the annual report to shareholders, that has lifetime shelf life. It will be looked back on by our heirs, those who succeed us in the corporate suites, for what lessons it teaches us, what lessons we've learned. As perhaps seldom before, never has the need for straight-talking been greater. Couching one's dire results in patriotic terms just won't cut it. Deciding that wartime is the perfect opportunity to explain away one's failings, one's missteps at the corporate helm—well, UAL's corporate chieftain tried that with disastrous results. He was shown the door. Television shows that feature violence I predict won't go over well with the viewing public. Unless peace returns to America, and around the world, it'll be the foolhardy, or only the eerily calm, who will venture out to the football stadium or the ballpark or to a crowded lakefront park. Surely, life goes on. But things will never be the same, especially for those poor souls in New York City who lost loved ones—truly, absolutely lost those they built their lives around. Psychiatrists will tell you that those whose loved ones left for work Sept. 11, never to return home—their survivors are destined for a life of non-healing. That's the concept involved with keeping caskets open, letting mourners view the remains of a loved one. One needs to have a death finalized—otherwise it never really happened. Will things ever be "right" again, not only here but around the world? Will we, in our zeal to bomb the bastards back to oblivion, choose to forget those poor souls in war-torn lands whose existences hardly warrant being so labeled, so elevated? Men, women and children without food, without shelter. Indeed, without prospects? Will we ever stop being jumpy at every unexpected sound behind us, at opening pieces of mail, at starting our cars and hoping some copycat hasn't rigged it to explode? Will stockholders willingly, and without anxiety, look forward to receiving the annual reports of companies they've invested in? You tell me. P.S. Now, though, a new phrase has entered our lexicon: "Pulling a Cheney" forevermore will describe a "now-you-see him, now-you-don't" kind of caper. Those who vanished when the going got hot have always existed in corporate suites; there just wasn't a term to accurately describe that kind of behavior before. At least there's something to smile about.

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