Gold Standard

Chapter 35 (cont'd)
"Very complicated," Simmy said. "Everyone sees life from their own perspective and it makes perfect sense to them but rarely do any two people see eye to eye."
J.P. looked at Sam and Simmy with the depth of one who must re-produce emotions and content for others to engage in.
"We attract what we are or what others want to become. I could see a depth in you two that first day we met. Solid instincts have won me many a prize as my movies soar into box office hits. You two are the gold standard." J.P. spoke with a forceful authority.
"What is 'the gold standard?'" Simmy asked. "A neighbor of ours once said, that, as far as he could see, our sons were the 'gold standard' in the whole neighborhood."
"That's a huge compliment. That, basically, means... your sons were measured against all the other kids and found, in his estimation, to be superior and solidly backed."
"Well, let us hope that his own standards have refined value," Simmy remarked.
"Ah, yes, the question of 'who,' ultimately, determines the meaning of value and, consequently, power. Wars have been fought for that right," J.P. murmured.
"Is it 'a right' to decide the definition of value. Value is an elusive, indeterminable word," Simmy stated.
"Explain," J.P. leaned forward concentratively.
"I volunteered to bake for a sale. It was for my church, a 'not for profit' organization."
"Ha," the scorn of disbelief emitted immediately from J.P., "not too many of those."
Simmy continued, "I was abandoned in the kitchen to do the whole job. The person who had originally roped me into doing this got sick and we couldn't have a flu virus in the kitchen."
"Good thing you protected the purchaser from that," J.P. added another commerce thinker statement.
"Yes, we do want responsible people in the kitchen, do we not?" Simmy laid the foundation. She continued.
"I work all day, baking. Then, I have to package these 300 cookies and many pies. One of the people in charge of this organization comes by as I'm pricing the cookies at' '3 for a dollar.' He blows out a bellow of steam and says, 'You should be selling those '7 for a dollar.' That would be good value.'" Simmy pontificated, acting out the part of the Overseer.
J.P. coughs, "Where has this bloke been living? In the land of plenty, I'd say."
"I say to him," Simmy continued, 'If you want to sell them for that, then you bake them.'"
Sam interjects. "I'm not baking them for '3 for a dollar.'"
J.P. laughs and says, "Me neither!" He can relate to this man.
"So," I ask you, "why does this man devalue the price of the cookies?"
"He hasn't done the work," J.P. says perfunctorily.
"And what happens when we teach people, through this type of action, that they can have whatever they want without paying a reasonable price for it?"
"You get,... my Crew, with a blank checkbook, spending someone else's money without regard for the sacrifices of the silent partners. That's when I end up stressed because these financial backers demand a 'reconciliation' to see how the time was spent, if the schedule was adhered to, and where did all the money go?"
"I'll bet it's hard to shoulder all that responsibility," Simmy suggested.
"Damn hard," J.P. grunted.