CONTROLLINGOF CANADIAN TIRE Term Paper Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1250 words

CONTROLLINGOF CANADIAN TIRE - Term Paper Example l O’Donnell (1995) says, â€Å"Control is checking current performance against predetermined standards contained in the plans with a view to ensure adequate progress and performance.† Controlling as part of the management ensures that the organization activities are carried out as planned and ensures that the resources are utilized effectively and efficiently while taking any corrective action so as to achieve the overall organizational goals. Furthermore, every person in the organization has an individual goal which mostly depends on the organizational performance so if the organization goal fails so is to the individuals. So to ensure that the individual goals are met, the overall organizational goals must be controlled for consistency. It also ensures that the organizational policies and rules are adhered to so as to improve the organizational trust, reputation, loyalty and growth from infancy to maturity. As McBride & Hugh (1997) puts it. â€Å"The company-Hamilton Tire and Garage Limited-stocked a small inventory of repair and replacement goods, including tires batteries, automobile fluids. Although automobile Industry was still in its infancy, the Billesses believed surging automobile sales at the Time indicated a bright future for their time. Later that year, in fact, Toronto hosted its first â€Å"Closed car show,† in which windshield wipers, automatic starter and other new car part were introduced." (p.56) The control process in Canadian Tire is not cybernetic, one that is self contained in its performance monitoring and correction capabilities, but it does follow similar principles. That is, setting the objectives of the organization and standards that are feasible, taking measurement of the results and then comparing them with the set objectives or the standards and then takes appropriate action. As Mockler (1970) points out the essential elements of the control process in his definition of control, he says. â€Å"Management control is a systematic

Emotions of a woman on the birth of a child Essay

Emotions of a woman on the birth of a child - Essay Example I didn’t like the frog-looking thing that the ultra-sound revealed, nor the pumpkin that my mother said was inside me, nor the stork stories of Hans Christian Andersen fairytales. I imagined instead that I had swallowed the moon and that it was growing and expanding, filling me with incredible light. First, it was a period of darkness when I couldn’t feel her at all, then a sickle-shaped crescent moon, then a big round full moon that made me waddle in the days, and toss and turn at nights, and crave Kentucky Fried Chicken at midnight and be repulsed by it when I got it.But now the white-hot light that shafted through me was not the gentle glow that I’d felt for the past three months, but a tearing searing volcanic eruption of a life force that needed at all costs to be brought forth. I felt like a mountain that was being split asunder by a force greater than me, and I thought that I would die from the six-hour ordeal, like Rachel in the Bible story when she gave birth to Benjamin. But no, finally she released me from my woman’s curse of bearing children in pain (from eating the aching attractive but forbidden fruit). There was a sweltering silence, and in my groggy post-natal haze I heard a sharp short slap, then a wild wail that I couldn’t believe was human.When they put her in my arms I was spellbound. It was impossible that this was her: the moon-thing from my belly, the volcano that erupted from me, the werewolf that wailed at being brought into the world.... I stared at her in amazement. I didn't have enough eyes to look at her, her skin like Starbucks mocha that would eventually "brown" like Grandma's chocolate cake to look more like mine. I didn't have enough lips to kiss her soft skin that dented under my touch like a downy pillow. Not enough nostrils to inhale her smell -- so strange yet sweet -- a smell of new life. Nor enough hands to touch her incredibly smooth warm skin, to fight with her to unfold her tiny balls of hands that wound around anything it could catch. Seeing her for the first time was more beautiful than Shakespeare's "russet-clad" sunset, more thrilling than my first kiss. And there were many firsts that have dotted this past year like the occasional caramel-coated nut in an already delicious Nestle Drumstick cone: the first time she opened her eyes and revealed her dark brown eyes that she had sneakily kept hidden like an opal; her first smile, like a burst of sunlight peeping out from under a shadowy mountain; her first tear that terrified me and made me want to rip apart the invisible beast that hurt her like an enrage mother lion; the first time she held my hand and a shot of love ran from my womb, up my spine and through my heart. I am still looking forward to her first words, and hope they will be "Ma-ma", which will be like Beethoven's Fifth Symphony to my ears (strange but magnificently beautiful), and not to mention her first steps on chubby drumstick-like legs (I ate too much KFC when I was pregnant), her first cut knee, her first day of school, her first crush Looking at her now, a little brown leprechaun from my own body, with her impish toothless grin, her lovable moon face and scraggly weed-like hair that I don't know how I will ever comb, I'm