The List

I ran into Joanne at my high school reunion this past year. She was teaching psychology at a southern university and was about to retire. She said she would be glad to get away from the pressure cooker of academia. I choked on my scotch at that, which didn’t go over with her real well.

A few days ago, I received a thick letter with her return address on it. It contained a questionnaire and a cover letter that explained she had grown restless in retirement and decided to do a research project. She hoped her old classmates would cooperate.

I read the questionnaire and called her. We did a little catching up before I asked her about the study and why she was using our old class instead of a random test group. Joanne said that something struck her while mingling with the people over that weekend of the reunion. She had it by the tail and just needed to pull it out of the hole. Joanne’s been living in the south too long.

“So, you want to find out why some of us made it and some didn’t.”

There was a pregnant pause. “Why do you say that?”

“Looks like a reverse engineered outline of Harris’ book.”

Another pause. “Is it that obvious? I must be rusty.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. I used to borrow from the book as a basis of screening potential employees, so that’s probably why it jumped out at me.”

Sydney J. Harris was an extraordinarily keen observer of human nature. If you haven’t read his books or columns, it’s likely you’ve seen a “Winners & Losers” list on some poster, plaque or calendar.

My thinking was that there was a bell shaped curve on which we all fall, with the extremes being pure winners and pure losers (of which there are probably none). Most people are a mixture. It’s the ratio of that mixture that determines your outcomes and determines your place on the curve. In the context of hiring, people on the high side of the curve would produce results and progress, and make money for you. Losers are a cancer to the organization and their negative behavior will undermine its growth. Winners emphasize creating while losers constantly engage in destructive activity.

If you went into the Harris book thinking it simplistically pegged winners as star sports players, wealthy industrialists or other cliché, you were pleasantly surprised. He had much more insight and depth than to settle for that. For instance, you could be a very skillful info tech executive, which would seem to tag you as a winner. But, if you have a malicious side that controls your behavior, and you use your talent to spread a computer virus, you’re definitely a loser. On the other hand, you could easily be in a much less “prestigious” position, and be an accomplished winner.

I didn’t employ all of his points in my interviewing profiling, and borrowed from Bob Hurley and others. But, you may have seen the posters, etc. and recognize something from this list:

When a Winner makes a mistake, he says, “I was wrong.” When a Loser makes a mistake, he says, “It wasn’t my fault.”

The Winner learns from his mistakes, the Loser repeats them.

The Winner makes his point and stops talking. The Loser argues and beats things to death.

The Winner is always part of the solution. The Loser is always part of the problem.

A Winner makes use of criticism. A Loser angrily denies it, often seeing it where it doesn’t even exist.

A Loser believes in Fate. A Winner believes we make our Fate by what we do or fail to do.

The Winner always has a solution or result. The Loser always has an excuse.

A Winner in the end gives more than he takes. A Loser dies clinging to the illusion that winning means taking more than you give.

A Winner lives in the present and has his eyes on better things for the future. A Loser is a prisoner of the past and wallows in old failures, grudges and problems.

A Winner revels in the success and accomplishments of others. A Loser detests them, taking the perverse view that they reflect his own failures.

The Winner says “I must do something.” The Loser says “Something must be done.”

The Winner sees an answer for every problem. The Loser sees a problem for every answer.

The Winner is part of the team. The Loser is apart from the team.

A Winner knows who and what he is and acts and feels accordingly. A Loser depends upon the perceptions of others, and his moods and behaviors are dictated by them.

A Winner has control of himself, and will use that to improve, grow and accomplish. A Loser is a Loser, and therefore has little choice but to act like one in negative ways.

The Winner is like a thermostat. The Loser is like a thermometer.

A Winner sees things as how they relate to the big picture. A Loser sees that everything is about him.

The Winner stands firm on values, but compromises on petty things. The Loser stands firm on petty things, but compromises on values.

The Winner focuses on what is happening or being accomplished. A Loser concerns himself with what others think of him.

The Winner sees reality and successfully navigates it. The Loser fabricates his own reality and is out of step with others.

The Winner interacts with other Winners who leverage the positives. The Loser flocks with other Losers who perpetuate their negative behavior and outcomes.

The Winner enjoys and loves. The Loser broods and hates.

The Winner sees the gain. The Loser sees the pain.

A Winner works and accomplishes with other people. A Loser is constantly in conflict and achieves little.

A Winner speaks of ideas, goals, achievements and events. A Loser talks about people.

The Winner takes action and achieves much. The Loser wishes and accomplishes little.

Was that guy really the mayor?

A girlfriend of mine is an executive with an international company. Last week, she showed me a memo from their president and asked for my thoughts on it.

It announced that the corporation was shifting its performance measurement paradigm to (insert an acronym – doesn’t really matter what). I smiled and said it was great marketing. Invent some “new” management tool that is little more than common sense, construct some pitch as to why all others are now obsolete and make this appear to create instant success with little effort or pain, except for a big pricetag. Her president had taken the bait.

Everyone wants the instant success, whether it’s miracle diet pills, no-investment real estate scams or whatever. People want it so badly that they’re willing to overlook the obvious disconnects in the logic. Like, if you can make millions and millions with your real estate system, why are you selling courses for a few hundred bucks? Because I just want to share my success. Right.

Humorist/musician Henry Phillips is a very accomplished guitarist. He always gets questions about his “secret,” from people who hope it’s something short of have having to practice hours on end, day after day. So, he wrote a song about how there should be pills that make you a guitarist. The lyrics are hilarious, tying different color pills to what kind of music you want to play. Great tongue-in-cheek humor.

Everybody has their own benchmarks. This brought Mark to mind, the principal investor in my first business venture. I had already pounded the pavement, business plan in hand, seeing a number of capitalists. I had sat in offices larger than my living room, on chairs that cost more than my car. So, I was totally unprepared to meet Mark.

I flew to the city where he was located, rented a car and followed the directions to an aging warehouse district. Had I misunderstood or taken a wrong turn? I opened the door under the proper address number and entered a small, spartan waiting room. A woman led me down some long hallways into an old warehouse.

In the middle of the empty floor were a battered wooden table & chair, trash can and a two-drawer file cabinet. And, Mark.

After a skein of carefully coifed executive types in Saville Row suits, Mark looked like the guy who came to fix your furnace. He wore jeans and a flannel shirt. I noticed his watch band was repaired with a dirty strip of adhesive tape. This guy had a net worth exceeding $60 million and interests in dozens of companies?

I introduced myself and spread my plans, charts and financial projections on the table, launching into my presentation. Mark listened maybe eight seconds and swept his hand in a dismissive motion. “Tell me about yourself.”

I started reeling off academic degrees, employment history, etc. Again, the hand. “Start at the very beginning and make it a narrative. I don’t want baseball card stats.”

So, I started at the beginning. He stopped me a number of times for elaboration on reasons, feelings and other gut level things, and fast forwarded me past statistics, accomplishments and other hard facts. It took almost two hours.

Then, I reverted to the business plan, but got the hand again. This was getting tiresome. “I don’t invest in numbers and paper. I invest in people.”

“Then we’re done?”

“No, one more thing.” He reached into the trash can and pulled out a basketball. “Shoot me for lunch.”

There was no basket. Just a rusty pipe running across the high ceiling. The object was to shoot the ball over the pipe, through the opening created by the two beams the pipe was strapped to. Mark obviously practiced this a lot and I bought lunch. The first of many lunches I would buy during our association. Mark never carried a wallet. Probably explained why he had $60 million.

Before we left for lunch, I stacked up the paperwork and tried to hand it to him. “Don’t need that.” Probably explained why he needed only a two-drawer cabinet.

Over lunch, I asked him how he would measure how we were doing if he didn’t have the plan to compare against results. “I’ll know. I have my own ways of measuring.”

“Such as?”

“You’ll see.”

Six months after I got the company going, Mark called. “I’ll be in Cincinnati in a month. I want you to introduce me to the president of the largest bank in town, the CEO of the largest company and the mayor.”

By this time, not much about Mark surprised me. I figured this was one of his measurements of progress. Not just if I had established myself enough to set up the meetings, but he would be reading their perceptions of me and my company.

It presented no problems. I knew from the conception that contacts within the power base were a key to success and had networked well. I had already had my knees under the lunch table with each of these men several times.

The meeting with the mayor would be a breakfast at an informal downtown restaurant. I met Mark at his hotel and we walked to it, arriving before the mayor. We chatted a bit, until the mayor arrived.

The mayor was a fairly young man, who looked even younger. The bowtie, pastel shirt and home-cut hairstyle reinforced the youthful image. He came over to the table and introduced himself. Mark looked him up and down and arched an eyebrow at me. I ignored it.

We talked until the waitress arrived. The mayor asked her if she had any sweetened cereals. “Like what?”

“Frosted Flakes, Fruit Loops; something like that.” Mark arched an eyebrow at me. This was getting as old as the hand gesture.

“I’ll check.”

We talked some more and the mayor excused himself to go to the bathroom. When he was out of range, Mark leaned across the table. “Fruit Loops?”

“Hey, what can I say? The guy likes sugar.”

“Level with me. Is this guy really the mayor?”

A few days later, I picked up the phone in my office. “Was that guy really the mayor?” No, “Hello.” No, “This is Mark.” Just, “Was that guy really the mayor?” I would get this phone call on virtually a monthly basis for the next five years. But, this measurement milepost had gone very well, and that’s what counted.

Yes, he really was the mayor. One of the better ones we’ve had, I might add. But that was about twenty years ago, when the best and brightest still ran for public office. Today, he’s a very successful real estate developer, as distanced from the muck and mire of politics as one of them can be. And, he doesn’t sell real estate courses, as far as I know.

Today, I answered the phone in my office. “Was that guy really the mayor?” Mark was calling to offer the greetings of the season. Or maybe to see if I’d change my story. We sold the business a long time ago and I hadn’t heard from him in a few years. It was good to hear his voice and be reminded that there are many ways to measure things.

This was a lesson that was to serve me well in business and other pursuits. The bare statistics don’t always tell the story. And, of course, good people generate good results.

Santa Gets a Visit

Today, a woman poked her head into my office and asked if I had a minute. Okay, I got a minute.

She sat down in the chair across from my desk and smiled. “I wanted to meet Santa Claus.”

Since I run a nonprofit mental health agency, this was not all that unusual of an opening. Certainly, much preferable to brandishing a weapon, which sometimes happens.

She read my face. “Oh, I’m not a client. I’m a teacher. I’m Kirstin’s teacher, to be precise.”

I recognized the name because I had rehearsed it a couple weeks previous.

“Just before break, she stood up at show & tell and told us about her visit from Santa. I can’t tell you the impact it had on that girl.” But, she did.

Great to hear, as I don’t enjoy playing Santa. My staff loves it.

Every year, we select an indigent family (usually a single-parent family), find out what they need or want, and buy the gifts from our own pockets. Then, at a pre-arranged time, Santa (me) and an elf (one of the staff) make the visit, and make the kids feel special.

The credit for this goes to our staff, a couple women in particular. My role is simply grumbling while they dress me up (adds to their delight), driving a truck full of gifts with about half my vision obscured by the beard and wig, and boosting the spirits of the children. The staff orchestrates all this; I’m just a bit player. The feedback is that these families appreciate gifts from all sources, but the extra Santa effort is really special to them.

It’s one thing to hear that third or fourth hand, but the recount this teacher gave of Kirstin’s presentation and the look on her face made it all worthwhile, and then some.

Many people make contributions of various kinds that are appreciated. But, the recipients especially appreciate extra thought, just like anyone else. Make it and you’ll be glad you did.

Roll Practice

Just got the email that confirmed the beginning of winter kayak roll practice at an indoor pool. I felt a tingle of anticipation. It was followed by giddy emails from fellow paddlers, who exhibited similar signs of excitement.

I looked at the dusty musical instruments sitting in the corner of my den. While recognizing the necessity of practice, I had never really enjoyed it. Music, sports or whatever. It’s a lot of fun to do those things, but practice never felt like doing.

The first season I enrolled for winter roll practice, it felt the same way going in. Braving the frigid night air in the dead of winter to get wet? Sitting in a confined body of water, rolling 40 or 50 times? Couldn’t be fun, could it? With an impending schedule of offshore and whitewater paddling, I sucked it up and signed up.

What a great surprise. From the first session, I could hardly wait for the next and the next. Yes, it was rolling a boat in a pool. But, it was also much more.

In pondering what made this special, I arrived at the conclusion that rolling is the quintessential paddling skill. It’s a line of demarcation that separates the casual from the true believers. This was a gathering of eagles. This was the fellowship, and it embodied all the delights of that.

Roll practice is far more than practice. It is a social event. Sure, we all paddled year-round in the wintry blasts. But, there was little time to tarry and bond in those bitter conditions. This is where we came during the gelid times to keep the pilot light going and maintain the ties that bind.

Practice starts in less than two weeks. I’m counting the days.

The Best Present

For the past month or two, I’ve been presented the question, “What do you want for Christmas?” Hard question as I’m at the age where I pretty much have all I need.

But, what do I want? Already have that, too. This month, I’ve received many cards that allude to our friendships, reminding me I already have those gifts, and few things are more precious. Friends from high school, college, work, paddling, volunteer work and other sources. All their contacts produce a warm glow.

What is a friendship? I suppose a clinical definition would revolve around mutual and supportive behavior. The bricks of that are understanding, trust, affection, esteem, honesty, loyalty and similar values. The mortar is communication.

A friend is someone you can trust and relax with. You can be yourself and don’t have to watch your back.

Perhaps the greatest threat to friendships is change. People evolve and obtain different priorities, interests, needs, etc.

Not everyone gives you that warm glow because not all associates are friends or beneficial. There are toxic friends that people acquire to fulfill one unhealthy need or another, allow themselves to be victimized, or because birds of a feather flock together. Toxic people frequently attract each other to gain mutual validation for aberrant behavior. Toxic friends include the controller, judge, promise breaker, betrayer, gossip, user, complainer, leaner, self-centered person, or manipulator. Manipulators often try to generate pity to control. Poor me, I’m always the victim.

Life’s too short. Shun the toxic people and treasure the gems. Nurture those precious relationships with communication and care. You will enjoy and be rewarded many times over.

Driving rules for life

In the 1990s, I did some business in the Pacific Rim. Vietnam, Malaysia, Singapore, etc. were booming and outstripping their infrastructures.

This was apparent on the roads, which were packed with vehicles, and not just the lanes. The white lines between the cars were occupied by scooters and mopeds, which didn't stop the cars from straddling them or darting across to any open space.

I didn't even try to drive there and commented on this to a cab driver. He replied that there are only two rules for driving. Nothing behind you matters. And, make the most of anything in front of you.

Good rules for driving there and not bad guidelines for life.

Male/female abodes

I stopped by my ex’s to wish her a happy birthday. She said she had something important to discuss with me, which told me two things.

First, from decades of experience in this area, I knew I had some time for contemplation, because this would hold no relevance or interest for me. Secondly, it would be a mobile monologue. A shark can’t stop swimming, because that’s how it breathes. Carol can’t stop cleaning, because that’s how she lives.

So, we’re walking around her house, while she’s wiping, aligning and picking up. My mind is firmly engaged in neutral. In this state, I notice differences from when I lived there. Differences from my current abode. The aberrations could be classified into things that were there, for no apparent good reason, and things that were missing.

Five things that were there:

1. Tupperware, Saran Wrap, etc. - If it’s good, I eat it. Eat it all. I don’t leave half a sandwich, cupcake or pot roast. If it’s worth starting, it’s worth finishing.

2. Fabric softener, bleach, pre-wash, etc. - Either the store brand detergent can get
the job done or it can’t. Not up to me to make up for its shortcomings. And, does
anyone really believe you throw a smelly Kleenex in the dryer and it changes the
rigidity of fabric? It’s not a softener, it’s a territory marker. Guys may be able to
pocket their wedding rings at a bar, but the scent of softener tags him as taken.

3. Photographs – Parents and kids, fine. But, every person you ever met? Or, so
it seemed.

4. Coasters, carpet protectors, headrest shields, etc. – Life’s tough. Pampering the
furniture and floors isn’t going to help it learn to deal with it.

5. Fingernails, eyelashes, and other body parts – Unless you’re Mrs. Potatohead, all
your features should be permanently attached.

Five things that were missing:

1. Tools – Not so much as a screwdriver, pliers or wrench. How does one survive?

2. Bathroom reading material – What does she do in there?

3. Cobwebs – Without spiders, how do you control small insects?

4. Things on the floor – The floor is a large shelf. And no mere shelf. It is
the ultimate shelf. Nothing rolls off and breaks. Nothing gets lost.

5. Duct tape – The bond that holds the universe together. It was not in evidence
on furniture, appliances or anything, much less stacked in rolls on the floor, ready
for action.

Don’t know how she lives.