Compass Capital Partners

I am pathetic. I am impaired in so many ways. I'm house-painting challenged. I'm wallpaper-and-picture-hanging disadvantaged. I'm chess and bridge incompetent. My mother-in-law tried to teach me bridge and laughed herself silly for the first 15 minutes. Then she got ugly mad at my ineptitude and made me pick up all the cards she'd thrown around the room. Charles, a friend of mine, is a tournament-level backgammon player. I'm clueless when he talks about the game. Charles is also a single-digit handicap golfer and plays a great hand of bridge. (Guys named "Charles" are always smart and multi-talented.) I'm also a fishing idiot. My brother-in-law,

About 10 years ago, when my waist was 10 inches smaller and all my parts were alive and well, I wrote a column about the contributions that the so-called "little people" make to the success of their printing company employers. In 1988, my wit was still quick and I opened the column by rewriting the lyrics of the great old standard, "Little Things Mean a Lot." My version began like this: "Blow me a kiss from across the room. Say I look nice when I'm not. Give me smile if I've waited a while. Little things mean a lot…" My revisions butchered the great lyrics of the composers, Edith Lindeman

A few months ago, owing to the silly deadline imposed by Attila the Editor-in-Chief and his sidekick BakSlash the Editor, I had to write this column on Super Bowl Sunday. This chore, of course, meant that I was working whilst the rest of America was having fun. Another unofficial holiday has rolled around, and again I have to work while it happens. This is Academy Awards Monday, and most folks are attending Oscar parties and eating hors d'oeuvres. It's just as well that I wasn't invited to any of these gatherings because I haven't seen a single nominated movie. My ignorance would have made me

To feed or divert a discontented populace, the ancient Romans offered bread and circuses. And, to a certain extent, they met with success. Their idea lingers in today's world of graphic arts sales compensation; some printers pay straight salaries to their sales forces, while other printers add various incentives and bonuses. Despite what many consider to be the intrinsic nature of motivation, incentive plans can help boost individual performance in certain situations. In this second of two installments (see March issue, page 56), Printing Impressions reviews incentive plans and other issues relative to commercial printing sales compensation. Various industry players share their thoughts and

One of my partners here at Compass Capital Partners, Steve Marcus, says that I can't say no. He says that I have a "mother-hen complex" and, because of this malady, I am compelled to solve the problems of others. I guess you could say that I'm "can't-say-no impaired." Years ago, when I was a big-shot executive, one of my secretaries, the lovely Miss Pam Stewart, made a needlepoint decoration and framed it for my office. It read, "No, Nein, Negatory, Non, Hell No!" She had observed the same weakness that Steve Marcus has discovered in me. I keep Pam's needlepoint near my office phone