Does anyone read “Ferdinand the Bull” anymore? Hitler ordered it burned, while Ghandi called it his favorite book. For the uninitiated, Ferdinand was the 800-word literary brainchild of Munro Leaf, who wrote the 1935 children’s story about a flower-sniffing Spanish bull. While the other bulls wanted to be selected to fight in the bullring in Madrid, Ferdinand wanted to sit under the cork tree and smell the flowers. When men came to select the roughest bull to fight in the ring, the other bulls snorted and pawed the earth, so the men would think that they were strong and fierce. Knowing they wouldn’t pick him, Ferdinand went over to his favorite cork tree and sat down, but accidentally sat on a bee and was stung. He jumped up with a bellow and ran around snorting and pawing the ground as if demented. The men shouted with joy, confident they had found the fiercest bull of all. So they took Ferdinand away for the bullfight. He was promoted as “Ferdinand the Fierce,” and when released, he ran into the ring as everyone applauded wildly, because they were sure he would fight fiercely. But when Ferdinand got to the middle of the ring he saw the flowers in the ladies’ hair and he just sat down quietly and smelled. He wouldn’t fight no matter what they did. He just sat and smelled. So they took Ferdinand home, and rumor has it that he is still sitting under his favorite cork tree, very happily smelling the flowers. Do any of us smell the flowers any more? We have Blackberrys and Treos and all sorts of technology to keep us in touch with others who want us to work harder and produce more. How many of us have been offended when we’re speaking in a meeting and others are text messaging, rather than listening? We have cell phones so we’re never out of touch. How many of us are stuck behind a laggard on the freeway who is more focused on his or her cell phone conversation than driving appropriately? Sitting at dinner at Pinot Bistro last week, I saw two nicely dressed couples at the next table. One of the four was carrying on a lengthy business discussion on his cell phone at past 8 p.m. while the other three looked around uncomfortably, not saying a word. How often on evenings or weekends do we excuse ourselves with, “I just have to check my e-mail,” as if the world would end if we don’t read and respond to a message within a few minutes. We have portable computers so we can refine our charts while flying to business meetings in other cities, rather than reading a good book or getting to know a seatmate. In a VICA meeting last week, one well-respected Valley CEO asked why we couldn’t start meetings at 7 a.m., while a second said he’d really like our meetings held at breakfast or lunch (so much for a break from work). Futurists predicted that we would be working a 20-hour week by the year 2000, with machines doing much of the work for us. The sad truth is that we’ve turned into the machines, working more hours than ever before. The clich & #233; that there’s no glory in being the richest man in the graveyard is a clich & #233; because it’s true. Business is an important part of all of our lives, but it’s not our whole life and too many of us make it our reason for existence. We talk, we type, we listen but how often do we think? How frequently do we look out the windows of our Ventura Boulevard high rises just to look at the mountains? When’s the last time you pulled over while zipping along Mulholland at night to look at the Valley’s lights? When’s the last time you’ve smelled the flowers or sent some to someone? Taking time to smell the flowers is good for you and that’s no bull. “Seize the moment. Remember all those women on the Titanic who waved off the dessert cart.” — Erma Bombeck Martin Cooper is Chairman of Cooper Beavers, Inc., marketing and communications. He is the Immediate Past Chairman of VICA, Past President of the Public Relations Society of America-Los Angeles Chapter and of the Encino Chamber of Commerce, and is Vice President of the Los Angeles Quality and Productivity Commission. He can be reached at [email protected] .
