November 2009 Archives

BY SPECIAL GUEST CAROL PICCARO, PRESIDENT AND CEO, U.S. CHEMICALS

Golf is one of the perks of my business, and I feel grateful for the opportunity to entertain and be entertained on the "almighty" course. While I've learned much about the game and the people I have played with over the last 20 years, this particular day it was a "golf first."

But going back, I still remember the day a very patient supplier offered to teach me the sport. I felt like I was just admitted to "the club." And I was hooked. I wanted to have all future meetings outside, without desks or tables, phones or Blackberries - just walking down the course, sharing stories.

What luck to be out of the office, enjoying some of the most wonderful settings in the country - and all this for "work!"

Being in the chemical distribution industry, most of my golf rounds are with men. Therefore, I have a wonderful advantage at golf outings, especially when the longest drive competition is not gender-segregated.

In many cases, the women's tee box is a generous 150 yards in front of the men's. You connect, and you may very well be the recipient of a dozen golf balls and winner of the coveted "longest drive" competition. But then at the 19th hole, all the participants hoot and holler that a woman won the honor, which makes for a long walk to receive the prize.

I felt compelled to write this after traveling to Ohio to play golf with a vendor. Once again, I was the sole female golfer. I accepted the invite and agreed that caddies would be a treat.

I appreciate caddies and enjoy their company, as they move the game along, save time ball searching, and help with reading putts, yardage, and providing advice when choosing a golf club. Playing golf is similar to running a company - you need the assistance of a great caddie to shoulder the load.

As we walked up to our first tee, I was blown away to find four young, attractive women as our caddies. Each girl was more pleasant than the next, with a smile from ear to ear. They gladly embraced the work on a hot afternoon.

And for once, I was not in the minority - I had peers, women, and numbers in my favor! The teasing I received for forward tee boxes or a good drive was now met with five sets of eyes staring down the persecutor. It was a wonderful day, and truly the highlight of this noteworthy golf experience.

Photo credits: U.S. Chemicals, Carol Piccaro

Stephen Burns of the ICIS bureau in Houston writes of his recent trip to Colombia:

 

Many cities are known to us only by reputation. Paris has romance, London has pageantry, Rio de Janeiro has nightlife. Medellin has...Pablo Escobar?

 

It is almost 16 years since the violent death of the drug baron who for much of the world still defines that city. Escobar helped shape the image of chaos that Colombia still struggles to shake off.

 

Here's hoping it can, because the country deserves recognition for the progress that has put it back among the leading economies of Latin America.

 

A bad rap is hard to dislodge, though. Both the opportunities I have had to cover conferences in Colombia - Cartagena in 2004, and Medellin in 2009 - came my way because of the greater prudence of others.

 

The organizer of the latest conference acknowledged that the security issue loomed large for Americans in particular. But attendance from across the region was healthy and the choice of location was generally acclaimed as a success.

 

So what is a journalist with only a couple of spare hours to do in Medellin? Guidebooks talk of markets, the old town centre, and Botero statues.

 

But to a reporter, that would be like going to Rome and not seeing the Coliseum.

The hotel doorman translated my destinations to a taxi driver: Escobar's grave, and the scene of his bloody last stand.

 

Bravado evaporated as I was led across a well-kept cemetery, a magnificent showcase for the local flower industry. Did henchmen still watch over him, and watch over his visitors?  

 

Maybe so...I was surprised to find fresh flowers adorning a large, tidy grave. Later I learned that flowers are placed regularly by those who regard Escobar more as Robin Hood than as evil personified.

 

Escobar shares the wide grave - and the December 2, 1993 date on his headstone - with some relatives. It looks more like a little garden than the portal to hell I had envisaged.

 

The area where Escobar made his last stand was nicer than I expected, too, although the house had obviously been empty for a long time. Graffiti on the walls distinguished it from its neighbors.

 

But the grim look on the faces of two men working on the roof where Escobar died was enough to deter my taxi driver from stopping. On to the chubby Botero statues.

 

It is said that reputations come down in the elevator but go up the stairs. Medellin - and Colombia - found itself a long way down in the basement, but it's definitely moving on up. 

 

Video of Medellin, including Escobar's grave and last hideout: