Last time I talked about how dad came to know Ah Chan and started an adventure in MLM.

At this point dad has gotten his feet wet with multi level marketing, he is now committed. See this is the point where I first learned of the word "commitment", courtesy of Ah Chan giving what I now know were pep talks designed to plant motivations into recruits like dad.

There were numerous one-way discussions they had about business plan. In their 'plan' (their word), they were going to recruit 'downlines', revenues will be shared. Eventually they'll become managers with titles named after jewelries. A few promotions later you'll be given your own car and your own private office room. "Money would just roll in by itself you wouldn't even have to work anymore," said Ah Chan. "Then why bother giving an office?" I thought.

They will be so successful that "Lost a leg? No worry!" was the saying. Shows you how blue-collar it used to be, as if all livelihood counts on you being able to walk around. In this era I'll be more worried about losing fingers.

Meantime, no plan will be complete without the gratuitous display of success. Glossy printed pictures of high ranking 'managers' posing in front of cars they earned as prizes given by the company. Mercedes E-classes were common. I actually imagined my folks posing in front of one. I wouldn't mind it even if I deem it corny now.

Success was another term I picked up from listening to pep talks. This is probably the most prominent linguistic distortion done by this industry. I suspect that before they came along, success used to mean "achieving what you set out to do" if you're a commoner; "expand your territory" if you were a colonial empire. With MLM's arrival "success" was construed to simply mean "rich", not even "wealthy". It's much easier to understand, but it created a glass ceiling to the concept which eventually limit imaginations.

In retrospect I'm glad to be around to witness all that. I didn't interrupt or participate but I was a good listener. I didn't know what pyramid scheme meant then but it introduced to me the concept of money-making not with hard work but with schemes.

I wonder how much dad put any critical thought into the viability of such schemes. I don't remember him questioning the business plan, perhaps he wasn't entirely gullible but hanging on whatever hope he can find. And Ah Chan made a skillful peddler of hope.

Organizations that make hustlers like Ah Chan make great use proverbs and parables. They work because they are undeniable. Here's one that was skillfully deployed: a shoe salesman went to Africa and report back that it was hopeless, nobody wears shoes there. A second shoe salesman on the same trip reported back with excitement: "We're gonnna be rich because nobody wears shoes yet!"

That's them trying to teach optimism. I think business schools are still using this story today. It's simple, it's funny, it cuts to the chase. It also conveniently steers clear from facing off with efficient market theory.

"We are trying to insert money into their pockets. Some don't even want it, we can't help them," said Ah Chan. It took me awhile to get that he's referring to resistant people they were trying to recruit.

On second thought, Ah Chan's time coincided with me being nine and ten, at which time I displayed some academic aptitude. It's possible that his form of positivity rubbed off enough on me that I too believed I can achieve anything. Given that it was all downhill from eleven onwards, this theory is pretty strong. Dad did not much to offer in motivations, even manufactured ones, such influence might have been invaluable.

Next time I'll talk about the road trips we took with Ah Chan.