Cancel Netflix and feed the dog leftovers

During my years in Corporate America, I learned a lot of lessons about life ... that I wish I could forget. Nevertheless, I’ve started to apply the most painful one in my home.

Back when I was on the “Senior Management” team, the day inevitably came — and came again — when the Big Boss corralled us into the conference room and told us we had to “cut costs.”

The future of the company, the future of our jobs — not to mention our bonuses — and the future of the capitalist free world depended on it. To misquote Winston Churchill: “Never have so few done so much for so many.” Or more appropriately, “Never have so few caused so much pain for so many.”

I became a corporate Freddy Krueger, cutting my way to profitability and muttering the motto “Do more with less.”

Corporate America is based on a fundamental principle that no matter what, the profit margin has to keep growing, so you do what you have to and push things overboard.

There was angst and there was pain, and an occasional ray of hope: the Big Boss’s bonus survived.

Nowadays, America is feeling pain. We’re suffering from supply chain problems, along with Putin inflation, Biden inflation and oldfashioned garden variety inflation.

So I’m taking a page out of my past and doing whatever is necessary to maintain the margins. I’m cutting expenses and pushing stuff overboard.

Our pest control service went up $20 a month, the dog’s dental treats went from $14 to $19, the bag of black oil sunflower seed for the birds went from $20 to $26, heating oil went up so much I started to sob when I saw the bill. And I’m tired of complaining about gas and food.

Sometimes I have the terrifying thought that government and billionaires are colluding. (I’ve learned to love that word. I see collusion everywhere.)

It’s a basic law of capitalism — and I’m a capitalist — to pass along the increases. But what does the 79-year-old retiree do? What does the single mom working two jobs do? What does the soup kitchen do? What does the college student do? Unfortunately, they can’t pass along the increases. The customer has to take it on the chin and who knows where else.

Therefore, my new motto is “You go up, you go out.” Yes, I’m cutting expenses the way I was trained. No more pest control. We’ll live with the pests. There are enough of them walking the streets, so why shouldn’t they walk around my yard?

No more sunflower seed. The birds have to stop expecting handouts. They’ll have to work for their meals. If my feathered friends want to be socialists, they should move to Bernie Sanders’ backyard.

Fewer treats for the dog. Plus, she can eat leftovers like the rest of us.

I can’t wait to cancel streaming services such as Netflix and Hulu because I want the entertainment industry to feel the pain. I don’t care about the Oscars. (As one of my friends grumbled, “Who the #@&%!* wants to listen to a bunch of hypocrites lecture us?” The Academy recently released a statement that said it “does not condone violence of any form” after Will Smith slapped Chris Rock. Huh? The film industry thrives on violence, and studies show 90 percent of films have violence.)

I can’t say this out loud, but I’m cutting back on toys for the grandkids. Some Lego sets cost several hundred dollars, and that money could be spent more wisely on provolone and braciole.

I told the youngsters: “Here’s the Wiffle ball and bat I got when I was a kid. Go outside and get some fresh air. And here’s my fishing pole. Go catch some trout so we can have fresh fish for dinner because I’m tired of McDonald’s Filet-O-Fish.”

My first thought was to stop the charitable giving since that’s the corporate way, but my wife would never let me put the brakes on the donations to veterans’ organizations, soup kitchens and church groups. If I were a socialist, I’d say, “Let the government do it,” but the truth is we all have to step up so the ones who have the least don’t have even less.

Let me share another valuable lesson I learned — not from the corporate world, but from Charles Dickens. It’s known as the “Micawber Principle.”

As he was being led to debtors’ prison, the indomitable Mr. Micawber told young David Copperfield: “Annual income twenty pounds ... annual expenditure nineteen pounds, nineteen shillings and sixpence, result — happiness. But annual income twenty pounds ... annual expenditure twenty pounds, nought and six, result — misery.”

Go for the happiness.