Liz Mills

It's Short Story Monday. The following is a short story I wrote perhaps fifteen years ago, give or take a decade. It is a work of fiction.

Liz Mills

"We cannot afford to forget any experience, not even the most painful." ~ Dag Hammaskjold

"Will you remember me when you're famous? I know you won't."

"How could I forget you? I can't even imagine it." Steve Lawrence had been showing Liz his sketchbooks when she said this. She saw an unusual strength in his work, and a unique style that transcended what was trendy and fashionable. For a young art student, he had been incredibly prolific.

"Someday you'll be famous and I'll be just one more girl who foolishly threw herself at your feet," she said.

He laughed. He had enjoyed her immensely. She was delightful, funny, thoughtful, profound, and incomparably sensual. He affirmed it repeatedly. He would never forget Liz.

The following semester, when Liz dropped out of the university and went to Mexico, Steve became involved with Stephanie Bond with whom he remained involved for two years until he met Gloria, which wrecked things with Stephanie, but that was O.K., until Gloria went off with his friend Chuck. For a while, after he graduated, he dated several girls at once until he moved in with Marianne, whom he later married.

Over the years his career path was equally circuitous. Political activist, social worker, kitchen help, janitorial work and a cabinet manufacturing position all helped pay the bills until he got plugged in at the ad agency. Minneapolis agencies had just begun to get the attention they deserved and his was spotlighted frequently as a national trendsetter. Awards followed along with much success.

In his twilight years he received numerous lifetime achievement awards for his creative work and accolades from around the globe for his "World Peace Through the Arts" initiative. Two presidents entertained him in the White House and as an ultimate grace he was nominated for, and received, the Nobel Peace Prize.

Success in art, business and global statesmanship... what more could any man want? Yet there was something he wished for. He wished.... he wished somehow, that he could find Liz Mills and tell her that, indeed, he had never forgotten her.

In his Nobel Prize acceptance speech he even said as much. There were chuckles when he told the little anecdote about Liz Mills, and several reporters included the story in their account of the speech. Newswire services picked it up as well. And several internet newsgroups debated the merits of the story, whether there really had been a Liz Mills, or whether it was simply a metaphor for youthful aspirations and long lost dreams.

A search was undertaken, initiated by several friends, as a surprise for his seventy-fifth birthday. They scoured every database conceivable. There was a difficulty in that she may have married and had someone else's name. Nevertheless... in hope, the search commenced.

Liz Mills, the tall and sleek Liz Mills who was known by Steve Lawrence in those days way back when, the real flesh and blood Liz Mills, now living in a nursing home -- having been placed there by her family -- was blankly watching the television, watching Ted Koppel and Nightline, on the evening Steve Lawrence and the Nobel Peace Prize were being discussed. Celebrities and scholars debated the merits of Steve's achievements, two endorsing and two assaulting. A brief snippet of Steve Lawrence's acceptance speech was also aired, including the anecdote about Liz Mills.

Liz smiled and turned to a nurse who, standing nearby, was also listening. "Isn't that funny? My name is Liz Mills, too."

"Did you know him?" the nurse asked.

"No, I never knew anyone by that name," Liz said. "I'm sure I'd remember someone like that."

Of Knights White and Dark

Up front, the reason I am writing about knights today is that I did this picture of me as The Dark Knight. Laugh, please, because it's intended to be comic. (You may click to enlarge.)

As for chivalry and knights-errant, I have always enjoyed the whole idea of knighthood. As a kid one of my favorite coloring books was Crusader Rabbit. As a college student I was taken up with Don Quixote by way of the musical Man of La Mancha. During my tenure at AMSOIL, where I am employed in advertising and PR, I have seen my role as something of a white knight, doing battle against the forces of darkness.

An aside: There are many cynics who believe that the foundation of advertising, and inherent in the job, is a need to lie. Like lawyers, admen are tarred as dishonest hucksters. What I have always believed is that if you have to lie to sell a product, then you should not be in that situation. Or at least, you should strive to exit that position as quickly as feasible.

For those unaware, AMSOIL makes synthetic motor oils and performance products. Their claim to fame is being the first synthetic motor oil to satisfy American Petroleum Institute service requirements. In addition to being the first synthetic oil for cars, they were also first to recommend a 25,000 mile one year drain interval. The company has done that since its inception 35 years ago.

Imagine how many fewer oil cans and bottles would be in our landfills if for the past 35 years everyone changed their oil but once a year. The oil industry, on the other hand, likes having people change their oil frequently. For more than a decade major oil companies have gone out of their way to fight extended drain intervals. For years we've all heard that you're supposed to change your oil every 3,000 miles. Is that really because frequent oil changes are in the best interest of the consumer? I have in my file a 2001 quote from the president of Jiffy Lube International saying that if they could get people to change 100 miles sooner, Pennzoil would make 20 million more dollars. In addition, "If we could move our customers to make one more oil change per year, it's worth $294 million for the oil change alone and $441 million in revenue, when you include ancillary products and services." (Lubricant's World, Sept. 2001, p. 30)

So it is that the little company I work for is jousting with behemoths for whom bottom line profits are the primary driver, not truth or what is in the best interest of the consumer, or the earth for that matter.

The irony is, however, that even though I feel like a white knight, and our company has true environmentally beneficial solutions, if you get into a throng of really Green folks, I am a leper because I'm part of an oil company. "Oil companies are bad, green is good."

Add to that the popularity of seeing business people in a somewhat negative light, and the corporate guy that I am can also be perceived as "bad" in many sectors simply by virtue of my wearing a suit to the office every day. Hmmm.

Well, this might be where the Dark Knight comes in. His motivations are good, but in the end we see he is just a human trying to do the best he can. He's playing a role that in some way fits who he is. And like the comic book hero and Cervantes' Quixote I, too, am just trying to do the best I can within the context of our postmodern environs. If occasionally the giants I'm fighting are windmills.... well, so be it.

Here are a couple of links to articles I've published related to the environment and ethics.