I grew up on the east side of detroit at theedge of the grosse pointes.
I remember always seeing this guy and he was always dressed ina black cashmere coat with ashes from his pipe always all over it.
For years I would see him, never working, yet never without money.
Finally about 25 years later I see him in a restaurant as he makes his moves on a table of ladies.
The first question popped at his was, "What do you do," they asked.
BINGO< I'm finally going to find out just what this guy does.
"Oh," he says, "I'm a conceptual designer."
I sat thinking then realized heck, I can do that.
The ladies leave and I go up to him and ask one question.
"When you are designing these concepts where does the individual working person fit.
"Just a mass," he said." "It will always be there."
Now how can a nurse in supervision look at her or his peers and have those thoughts dancing in there mind?