Chains

The recent blog about “Blue Highways” alludes to chains of events. Life is a huge, interwoven tapestry of chains of events.

I was listening to an interview with an acquaintance of someone who allegedly had said, “Hey Lee, did you see where Kennedy is going to be in Dallas?” I wouldn’t want that etched in my memory banks.

This was fresh in my mind when Jim called from Boston. I hadn’t spoken with him for years.

Our freshman year of college, five of us came together in a bond that would endure through graduation and beyond. The only common thread I can come up with is that we all emanated from blue collar backgrounds. One of them was Rick.

“So, how’s Rick?”

“I don’t know. Haven’t seen him since his divorce.”

“Rick and Sarah split? Hard to believe. Why did they get divorced?”

I pondered that in the context of the radio interview. “Because I didn’t drive a Ford Fairmont to Tony’s picnic.”

There was a noticeable pause. “I’m afraid I’m going to need more information.”

I guess this domino chain started in the late 70s and early 80s. I had gone to work for a company, increased its sales about 400% in five years while boosting profits 800%. The owner was pocketing additional millions while my annual income had gone up about $50,000. What’s wrong with this picture?

Nothing really, except I learned a lesson. The one who takes the risks is entitled to the spoils. So, I left to start my own business.

At the time, I drove a Chevy Suburban, long before SUVs came into vogue. It was great for hauling around kids and canoes.

But, it would be an albatross for running around town on sales calls, which is what I’d have to do to get the business off the ground. So, I looked around for a nimble beater and found it.

A farm girl in Indiana had inherited her grandfather’s base model Ford Fairmont and wouldn’t be caught dead in it. She said her friends would think she worked for the water department or something. My gain.

I got the business going, but was not growing as quickly as I had anticipated. Prospects kept saying that they wanted to make sure I’d be around for a while before committing. If they didn’t start committing, I wouldn’t be around.

There was a business event one night and Jeff offered me a lift. He was a partner in a large CPA firm and was well-networked around the business community. He asked how it was going and I told him.

“Want a piece of advice?”

“I’m wide open.”

“Lose that car.”

“The car?”

“Yeah, that’s why people wonder if you’ll be around for long. It looks like you’re in hock up to your eyebrows.” For good reason, I might add.

So, I got a spiffy ride and things came together. I have no way to confirm a cause and effect, but I wouldn’t bet against it in future similar situations.

About two businesses later, I was driving a Lexus to project the required image. Tony invited us to a picnic. He was getting together the old gang, at least those who still lived in town. Rick was one of them.

As we sat around on folding chairs, Sarah’s eyes fixed on my car. She got up, walked over to it and ran her hand over the fender in kind of a tactile awe. “Rick, why don’t we get one of these?”

“We’ve had that conversation, honey.” A little too much emphasis on the last word.

“Yes we did and we’re still clunking around in that ratty Dodge.”

I glanced at my watch, but it was too soon to say that it was getting late. The burgers weren’t even done.

“And you know why. We’ve talked. Now, let it go and come sit down.”

“I don’t know why. You graduated with Henry and they have a Lexus.”

Rick glared at me. “Nothing to do with it.” But, he didn’t take his eyes off me.

“Oh, I think there is. Henry, how come you can afford a car like this and Rick can’t?”

“Hey Tony, how are those burgers coming?”

The dispute continued through the meal and apparently after. They left early with Rick shooting me a look over his shoulder. What did I do?

I gave Jim the short version, but the whole chain of events began the day I went to work for someone. “So, he never talked to you after the picnic?”

“No. I’m driving a four year old car now and hope to run into him. Maybe he’ll forgive me.”