Rarely have I been as amused by a book as much as I am with Zachary Mason's novel, The Lost Books of the Odyssey. It is brilliant fun. And the brilliance is in the substitute illusions Mason creates. Mason takes the alternate ending to a depth rarely seen.
My all-time favorite books are authored by men with only one name: Homer and Virgil. I know and love those time-worn epic tales of the lives of ancient Greeks and Trojans and the early Romans. I'm fluent with the poems and their characters, twists, and turns. I'm also very familiar with the various translations of each, with most of the explanations by classical experts as to this twist, that character, and even the philosophical and psychological examinations of the texts.
Mason's novel just makes those ancient tales all the more pleasurable. I think you'd enjoy it. The one drawback is that too many have not read even one translation of the original from front to back and would not recognize the unusual treatment Mason gives to many of the story elements. Too many get their Illiad from the movie Troy and their Odyssey not at all.
So if you haven't read Homer's original in any translation, start there first. And then pick up a copy of Zachary Mason's book. The short chapters stand on their own and will have you musing whimsically before you drop off to sleep. And maybe the grin will carry you through until the alarm clock savagely wakes you in the morning.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
Plagues
It seems these days that everyone I know has cancer! And while that is not quite true, what is true is that no less than six people I know have been diagnosed since the beginning of this year. That has led me to think once again about what it will take to eradicate this modern-day plague during my lifetime.
Despite living in a nation that decided to put a man on the moon and did it, I've little hope we'll actually get this done in the 20 to 40 years I have left. Why? Well there are lots of reasons, but mainly because my generation still largely runs this nation. That Moon Shot was my Father's generation - not mine.
My generation has been such complete failures at most anything that seemed important to us in the 60s or 70s. In fact, the only things we seem to be able to do with any real success is protest and boycott. Unfortunately, Cancer and other plagues are pretty well immune to marching protesters with pithy slogans and raised fists.
I've ruminated on the other issues my useless generation was so opposed to in our youth. For the record we have not wiped out the plagues of homelessness, poverty, political or religious intolerance, racism, greed, political crime, corporate misbehavior, tyrannical management, rampant incivility, or war either.
We've managed to make our environment even more akin to an un-flushed toilet (which may well be why we can't get cancer under control) despite being life-long ecologists (for my children, the ecologists of the 70s became the environmentalists of the 90s.) We also haven't been able reduce our dependence upon foreign oil despite living through the rationing of the early seventies.
The time for moralizing by my generation is past. We haven't the conviction to match our words. We can no longer blame our parents, grandparents or the Founding Fathers. We've had plenty of time, power and money to make a real difference.
We haven't raised our children to do any differently because they have seen the gap between our ideals and our behavior. And worse, we haven't left our grandchildren any money to fix any of these problems - let alone pay off our debts. We really did become everything we hated, protested and boycotted as college students.
In the time we have left to us, do you suppose that We the Boomers could put down our rhetorical signs, lower our voices and just go quietly to work on any one of these plagues? And for once in our life, do you think could we do it without worrying about the tax write-off or whether there will be a plaque with our name on it?
Despite living in a nation that decided to put a man on the moon and did it, I've little hope we'll actually get this done in the 20 to 40 years I have left. Why? Well there are lots of reasons, but mainly because my generation still largely runs this nation. That Moon Shot was my Father's generation - not mine.
My generation has been such complete failures at most anything that seemed important to us in the 60s or 70s. In fact, the only things we seem to be able to do with any real success is protest and boycott. Unfortunately, Cancer and other plagues are pretty well immune to marching protesters with pithy slogans and raised fists.
I've ruminated on the other issues my useless generation was so opposed to in our youth. For the record we have not wiped out the plagues of homelessness, poverty, political or religious intolerance, racism, greed, political crime, corporate misbehavior, tyrannical management, rampant incivility, or war either.
We've managed to make our environment even more akin to an un-flushed toilet (which may well be why we can't get cancer under control) despite being life-long ecologists (for my children, the ecologists of the 70s became the environmentalists of the 90s.) We also haven't been able reduce our dependence upon foreign oil despite living through the rationing of the early seventies.
The time for moralizing by my generation is past. We haven't the conviction to match our words. We can no longer blame our parents, grandparents or the Founding Fathers. We've had plenty of time, power and money to make a real difference.
We haven't raised our children to do any differently because they have seen the gap between our ideals and our behavior. And worse, we haven't left our grandchildren any money to fix any of these problems - let alone pay off our debts. We really did become everything we hated, protested and boycotted as college students.
In the time we have left to us, do you suppose that We the Boomers could put down our rhetorical signs, lower our voices and just go quietly to work on any one of these plagues? And for once in our life, do you think could we do it without worrying about the tax write-off or whether there will be a plaque with our name on it?
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Comfort from ancient words
There are few things that give me as much comfort as when the Worshipful Master of a Lodge calls the assembled Masons to order with the “ancient” words that are always used to set a meeting in motion.
On the second Friday of the month a new Worshipful Master, previously elected, recently installed, and now in his chair in the East of the Lodge for the first time, intoned those words as if he’d been doing this all his life. And thus began the first business meeting of the year.
Since the publication of Dan Brown’s latest book, much has been made and said of Masons and Masonry. Curiosity in Utah certainly rose when Channel 2 News did a piece on the connections between the Utah Fraternity and the predominant religion.
An Open House across the state saw thousands (more than 3,000 in the Salt Lake Mason Temple alone) brave the cold and a blowing snow storm not only to see the place where Masons meet, but also to talk with real, live Utah Masons.
To understand better, those interested visitors politely asked questions and those questions were not at all unfamiliar to the Masons who answered the queries. “I thought Mormons were barred from joining, can they?” and “What do I need to do to join?” were heard right along with such questions as, “I think my Grandfather was a Mason, how can I find out if he was?” and “What do you do in your meetings?”
And some of those folks, including Channel 2 News Anchor Mark Kobel, wanted to know why we joined: “What is the draw?” he asked several, and “What makes you stay?”
One of the many reasons I continue to faithfully attend is it is pretty reassuring to meet with my fraternal brothers in a familiar setting and hear those ancient words used to begin our meeting, no matter who may be “sitting in the East,” or whatever else is going on in the world.
That continuity from an earlier age, and the company of such good men are such simple things. But as I get older, they bring peace and contentment to my soul.
On the second Friday of the month a new Worshipful Master, previously elected, recently installed, and now in his chair in the East of the Lodge for the first time, intoned those words as if he’d been doing this all his life. And thus began the first business meeting of the year.
Since the publication of Dan Brown’s latest book, much has been made and said of Masons and Masonry. Curiosity in Utah certainly rose when Channel 2 News did a piece on the connections between the Utah Fraternity and the predominant religion.
An Open House across the state saw thousands (more than 3,000 in the Salt Lake Mason Temple alone) brave the cold and a blowing snow storm not only to see the place where Masons meet, but also to talk with real, live Utah Masons.
To understand better, those interested visitors politely asked questions and those questions were not at all unfamiliar to the Masons who answered the queries. “I thought Mormons were barred from joining, can they?” and “What do I need to do to join?” were heard right along with such questions as, “I think my Grandfather was a Mason, how can I find out if he was?” and “What do you do in your meetings?”
And some of those folks, including Channel 2 News Anchor Mark Kobel, wanted to know why we joined: “What is the draw?” he asked several, and “What makes you stay?”
One of the many reasons I continue to faithfully attend is it is pretty reassuring to meet with my fraternal brothers in a familiar setting and hear those ancient words used to begin our meeting, no matter who may be “sitting in the East,” or whatever else is going on in the world.
That continuity from an earlier age, and the company of such good men are such simple things. But as I get older, they bring peace and contentment to my soul.
Friday, October 16, 2009
The Age of Women
For the past decade I’ve been watching a trend. As a result of my observations, I’ve begun to call this time in America, “The Age of Women.”
In general, the women I see in the workplace and community are better educated and more relevant than the men of their age and background. They are focused on doing good things. They tend to have more gravitas and be harder working than their male peers.
And while there are still plenty of men who resent and mistreat women, and would deny them a chance to prove themselves, it is a time of unprecedented opportunity for women.
If you ask me it is not only well overdue but also just in time.
My daughters and granddaughters live in a time when they can do pretty much anything they want to do with their lives. They can be, as I told my daughters from the crib, the president of just about anything.
For the record: It’s not that I love Lee or Tino any less than I love Lyssha, Nicole, Natalie and Aria, Analiese, Ali, Ame, Viktoria, Rikelle or Angel. (Or Olivia – who will be here soon!) I’ve just always wanted them to have the same prospects for life, liberty and happiness as anyone else.
I’ve used the phrase, “The Age of Women” many times in the past month or so, and the reactions to my phrase have been fascinating. Women tend to agree, but some point out the barriers still to be overcome.
A sense of reality is important, but ladies, an understanding of how many barriers have been broken down already should give you the confidence to remove the roadblocks remaining.
The responses of men seem to be related to their age, education and maturity. Believe it or not, fairly well-educated, middle-aged men are mostly in agreement and very positive.
The peers of the well-educated thirty-something women, however, express skepticism and find excuses. “There are more scholarships for women,” they whine, “more programs, more help, etc.” Non-minority men, according to one, are the only people who have to raise themselves by their bootstraps.
Sorry boys, I’m just not buying it.
As long as there has been an America, men have always had more opportunity – and still do in many places! The women I see just out prepare and out work them. In the past, their preparation, work and skill has meant little.
Finally, there seems to be a sense of justice.
So boys, stop the complaining and go work as hard as your mothers, sisters, aunts and daughters are doing, and get something worthwhile done.
And ladies, you go out there and take hold of every opportunity you want. Continue to knock down every obstacle. Persist in doing what your critics have said you could not do.
I’m hoping that your increased influence and contribution will make this world we live in just a little bit better than it has been.
In general, the women I see in the workplace and community are better educated and more relevant than the men of their age and background. They are focused on doing good things. They tend to have more gravitas and be harder working than their male peers.
And while there are still plenty of men who resent and mistreat women, and would deny them a chance to prove themselves, it is a time of unprecedented opportunity for women.
If you ask me it is not only well overdue but also just in time.
My daughters and granddaughters live in a time when they can do pretty much anything they want to do with their lives. They can be, as I told my daughters from the crib, the president of just about anything.
For the record: It’s not that I love Lee or Tino any less than I love Lyssha, Nicole, Natalie and Aria, Analiese, Ali, Ame, Viktoria, Rikelle or Angel. (Or Olivia – who will be here soon!) I’ve just always wanted them to have the same prospects for life, liberty and happiness as anyone else.
I’ve used the phrase, “The Age of Women” many times in the past month or so, and the reactions to my phrase have been fascinating. Women tend to agree, but some point out the barriers still to be overcome.
A sense of reality is important, but ladies, an understanding of how many barriers have been broken down already should give you the confidence to remove the roadblocks remaining.
The responses of men seem to be related to their age, education and maturity. Believe it or not, fairly well-educated, middle-aged men are mostly in agreement and very positive.
The peers of the well-educated thirty-something women, however, express skepticism and find excuses. “There are more scholarships for women,” they whine, “more programs, more help, etc.” Non-minority men, according to one, are the only people who have to raise themselves by their bootstraps.
Sorry boys, I’m just not buying it.
As long as there has been an America, men have always had more opportunity – and still do in many places! The women I see just out prepare and out work them. In the past, their preparation, work and skill has meant little.
Finally, there seems to be a sense of justice.
So boys, stop the complaining and go work as hard as your mothers, sisters, aunts and daughters are doing, and get something worthwhile done.
And ladies, you go out there and take hold of every opportunity you want. Continue to knock down every obstacle. Persist in doing what your critics have said you could not do.
I’m hoping that your increased influence and contribution will make this world we live in just a little bit better than it has been.
Friday, July 31, 2009
My conundrum for the ages
I haven’t had a lot to say of late. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and there haven’t been a lot of fully-formed views breaking through the clouds just yet. So I have kept my pondering to myself.
Perhaps the blogosphere would be better off if I continued to keep my thinking to myself, full-formed or otherwise, but I figure you can tune out anytime you want and write here only what I feel driven to record.
It is with that in mind that I share today the impetus for my introspection. If it is in some way helpful to any of you, then know I am delighted to be of help. If not, by all means, feel free to change the channel.
2008 was a tough year, what with the weddings of two beautiful daughters, the global economy, my precious son’s struggles, losing about half my net worth, offending my eldest daughter, business re-organizations, and so, so much uncertainty.
But it was nothing in comparison to 2009!
I find myself right in the midst of what you may immediately dismiss as a mid-life crisis. Well, dismiss it as you may – if you are younger, you have it yet to face. And if you have already faced it, just keep that smug smile of knowing off your face while you read.
Let me set the stage.
I’m 52. I have served my country, my God, my church, and my community. I’ve raised my children, and they are who they are, I’m proud of them and love it when we spend time together (and miss them when we don't.)
I’ve worked for four Fortune 50 companies in a variety of positions high and low. I've also been in a few smaller firms. I’ve been blue-collar and white-collar. I’ve spent time as a leader, The leader, a manager, an analyst, paralegal, a salesman, a consultant, even a gas pump jockey, a carpenter and a forklift driver. I’m even an expert at a couple of things (mostly obscure and unimpressive.)
Come to think of it, there aren't many titles I haven’t held in one company or another (CIO comes to mind, along with CFO – titles I am not only unqualified for, but – really, never wanted to wear.) I’ve been on the boards of three companies, and five non-profits. I've lived in 34 addresses and "owned" the mortgages on three (each a bit better than the last.)
In financial terms I am not what you’d call wealthy, but I’m still well spoiled (even at half my 2007 worth!)
And yet there persists a sense that I haven’t done anything! I think it is because, despite leaving some of my DNA around in four clever and good looking children and eight gorgeous grandchildren, I haven’t BUILT anything enduring.
Nothing but those pieces of my DNA will last beyond the day my remains are dropped into a grave (or more likely, burned to ash and scattered in the surf at one of the Hawaiian Islands… and if so, please, make it Kona!)
The biologists out there are right now attributing that to the drive we all have to be immortal and to leave something of ourselves in the world. Well, I have given that lots of consideration and find that simple explanation is terribly incomplete.
True, I may yearn to write a Homeric tale for the ages, or leave a building on the campus of the University of Maryland with my family name etched in granite. But honestly, none of that lasts all that much longer than my remains. Much as we may all be endowed with some of the motive of Achilles, desiring to be remembered through all the ages, my unrest is more than simply hoping I’ll be remembered.
I’d rather build something lasting and be forgotten than do something famous but inconsequential and be a household name for a millennium or two.
I’d love to build a small but worthwhile endeavor that I could hand off to one of more of my children or grandchildren with a similar vision and watch from the Eternities as they make it something a little bigger and better and pass it on to one of theirs.
That is what has occupied my mind of late. I don’t seek to save the world, stop world hunger, cure cancer, or conquer the world and be the next Caesar. (I would, however, like to help with some of those things.)
I just want to build and leave something that can be built upon by some of mine.
Now if I can just find THAT thing, I’ll be just fine. But I have to hurry, because I realistically have anywhere from one more day to thirty-five or so more years to get something done!
Perhaps the blogosphere would be better off if I continued to keep my thinking to myself, full-formed or otherwise, but I figure you can tune out anytime you want and write here only what I feel driven to record.
It is with that in mind that I share today the impetus for my introspection. If it is in some way helpful to any of you, then know I am delighted to be of help. If not, by all means, feel free to change the channel.
2008 was a tough year, what with the weddings of two beautiful daughters, the global economy, my precious son’s struggles, losing about half my net worth, offending my eldest daughter, business re-organizations, and so, so much uncertainty.
But it was nothing in comparison to 2009!
I find myself right in the midst of what you may immediately dismiss as a mid-life crisis. Well, dismiss it as you may – if you are younger, you have it yet to face. And if you have already faced it, just keep that smug smile of knowing off your face while you read.
Let me set the stage.
I’m 52. I have served my country, my God, my church, and my community. I’ve raised my children, and they are who they are, I’m proud of them and love it when we spend time together (and miss them when we don't.)
I’ve worked for four Fortune 50 companies in a variety of positions high and low. I've also been in a few smaller firms. I’ve been blue-collar and white-collar. I’ve spent time as a leader, The leader, a manager, an analyst, paralegal, a salesman, a consultant, even a gas pump jockey, a carpenter and a forklift driver. I’m even an expert at a couple of things (mostly obscure and unimpressive.)
Come to think of it, there aren't many titles I haven’t held in one company or another (CIO comes to mind, along with CFO – titles I am not only unqualified for, but – really, never wanted to wear.) I’ve been on the boards of three companies, and five non-profits. I've lived in 34 addresses and "owned" the mortgages on three (each a bit better than the last.)
In financial terms I am not what you’d call wealthy, but I’m still well spoiled (even at half my 2007 worth!)
And yet there persists a sense that I haven’t done anything! I think it is because, despite leaving some of my DNA around in four clever and good looking children and eight gorgeous grandchildren, I haven’t BUILT anything enduring.
Nothing but those pieces of my DNA will last beyond the day my remains are dropped into a grave (or more likely, burned to ash and scattered in the surf at one of the Hawaiian Islands… and if so, please, make it Kona!)
The biologists out there are right now attributing that to the drive we all have to be immortal and to leave something of ourselves in the world. Well, I have given that lots of consideration and find that simple explanation is terribly incomplete.
True, I may yearn to write a Homeric tale for the ages, or leave a building on the campus of the University of Maryland with my family name etched in granite. But honestly, none of that lasts all that much longer than my remains. Much as we may all be endowed with some of the motive of Achilles, desiring to be remembered through all the ages, my unrest is more than simply hoping I’ll be remembered.
I’d rather build something lasting and be forgotten than do something famous but inconsequential and be a household name for a millennium or two.
I’d love to build a small but worthwhile endeavor that I could hand off to one of more of my children or grandchildren with a similar vision and watch from the Eternities as they make it something a little bigger and better and pass it on to one of theirs.
That is what has occupied my mind of late. I don’t seek to save the world, stop world hunger, cure cancer, or conquer the world and be the next Caesar. (I would, however, like to help with some of those things.)
I just want to build and leave something that can be built upon by some of mine.
Now if I can just find THAT thing, I’ll be just fine. But I have to hurry, because I realistically have anywhere from one more day to thirty-five or so more years to get something done!
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Give Me Hector
Give me Trojan Hector over the Argive Achilles
any day, I muse, unconsciously out loud.
She chuckles and responds, You are a strange man
preferring one work of fiction above another.
Oh my daughter, on the momentous day brave Hector
met mighty Achilles on the Plains of Troy,
these ancient mortal gods stood not merely as warriors,
but as the foundation of our modern world.
Still strange, quite peculiar! she announces with finality.
But why not Achilles, the famed and mighty victor?
Hector, the obvious lesser of the two in single combat
was felled by mighty Achilles and then debased.
Mystically protected from death by his immortal Mother,
from all but the missile launched ingloriously
by a cowardly, fortunate and unwitting foe, I argue.
Twice armored Achilles was simply better shielded.
As they traded powerful blows, Hector held fast despite
divining his death and dividing his strength.
Bringing supreme might to bear against the rising fear,
he conquered self, though before Achilles he fell.
Mighty Achilles, arrogant, narcissistic son of gods,
arrayed in a near perfect Olympian shield to
remedy any breach of helmet, breastplate or greaves,
faced Hector, and he clad only in his Ilium bronze.
Blind to the bolt that pierced his well-known tendon,
Achilles never bred any courage of mortal fear.
So superior on the field of battle, still Achilles lacked
the virtue of the vanquished Ilium commander.
Keep the beauty of Achilles, the armor fashioned by gods
from favor and the ambition for everlasting legend.
Give me the valiant essence of Hector for any endeavor
requiring a soul most daring, dutiful, and true.
any day, I muse, unconsciously out loud.
She chuckles and responds, You are a strange man
preferring one work of fiction above another.
Oh my daughter, on the momentous day brave Hector
met mighty Achilles on the Plains of Troy,
these ancient mortal gods stood not merely as warriors,
but as the foundation of our modern world.
Still strange, quite peculiar! she announces with finality.
But why not Achilles, the famed and mighty victor?
Hector, the obvious lesser of the two in single combat
was felled by mighty Achilles and then debased.
Mystically protected from death by his immortal Mother,
from all but the missile launched ingloriously
by a cowardly, fortunate and unwitting foe, I argue.
Twice armored Achilles was simply better shielded.
As they traded powerful blows, Hector held fast despite
divining his death and dividing his strength.
Bringing supreme might to bear against the rising fear,
he conquered self, though before Achilles he fell.
Mighty Achilles, arrogant, narcissistic son of gods,
arrayed in a near perfect Olympian shield to
remedy any breach of helmet, breastplate or greaves,
faced Hector, and he clad only in his Ilium bronze.
Blind to the bolt that pierced his well-known tendon,
Achilles never bred any courage of mortal fear.
So superior on the field of battle, still Achilles lacked
the virtue of the vanquished Ilium commander.
Keep the beauty of Achilles, the armor fashioned by gods
from favor and the ambition for everlasting legend.
Give me the valiant essence of Hector for any endeavor
requiring a soul most daring, dutiful, and true.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Mickey
One of the best things I ever did was join Wasatch Lodge No. 1 in Salt Lake City, Utah. As a Mason, I’ve had the opportunity to rub shoulders with some of the best men in the state. One of those men is the current “President” of our Lodge - that is, the senior officer, called the Worshipful Master (it’s old English - it means something more like “Honorable Master” of the Lodge.)
On Tuesday, we initiated three candidates at the Salt Lake Masonic Temple. During one of the breaks in the Initiation Ceremony, I visited with our Worshipful Master. While we spoke, I noticed and admiring his beautiful (and very expensive) Mickey Mouse Watch. I’m such a sucker for a well-built watch, a fine pen or a leather bound book. And I am a huge fan of Mickey.
Mickey is a symbol of one of the most innovative men who ever walked this earth. It is a symbol of the kind of experience every customer ought to have every time. Mickey also reminds me of one of my favorite vacation destinations.
Our Master, Leon, is a well-respected local attorney, having argued several cases before the Utah Supreme Court. While I admired his “everyday” Mickey Watch, and proudly showed him my Limited Edition Citizen Eco-drive, he told me he had an Eco-drive with a Gold Mickey in the Twelve position.
Leon then told me that years ago, he’d represented the prestigious president of a large local corporation before the Utah Tax Commission. In his office and just before the hearing, the president handed Leon a very nice, conservative watch and told him to change his watch because his Mickey Mouse watch looked, well, Mickey Mouse.
Now Leon is a bit of a maverick. He knows who he is and he just doesn’t compromise. It is one of the many endearing qualities that most people like about him. He is authentic. You get it straight from him, but he is also exceptionally kind, so tough things are delivered straight and compassionately.
An angry Leon told the Overblown Ego that he had two choices, head over to the hearing with his pretty watch in hand, and represent himself; or they - and Mickey - could go on over together. The president pushed him - was this his “lucky piece?” “If you have to think it is my lucky piece,” Leon replies,” then it is.”
So Leon wins big! Later he gets one of those nice “thank you” notes that also included a termination of his services to the corporation. Leon is a good and ethical attorney. He shared the story but not no more detail than I just did. I don’t know who the man was, the particulars of the case, dates, or the name of the corporation. But the story was instructive.
Any man that would hire an attorney to handle a sensitive and potentially expensive matter based on his expertise and reputation and offend him trying to change his image isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. He was powerful and obviously understands power. And he understands and wields a good bit of influence. But he’s not real bright despite his power, influence, and career success. Why?
Well, if you are worried about the image and potential success of an attorney, you don’t retain him.
If you do hire him, you don’t offend him just before you need him to be at his absolute best for you.
And, if a genuine courtroom brawler beats the opposition “big” then you don’t fire him because he wouldn’t take Mickey off his wrist because you insisted. You keep him around for the next issue.
Lastly, if he couldn’t understand Mickey is a symbol of innovation, excellence, and great experiences, he probably doesn’t understand enough to treat employees well - especially those who deal with his customers. And he isn’t creative enough to solve unusual problems or cases he didn’t study in B-school.
Mickey says something about an attorney, a product manager, film-maker, or customer service representative. That well-dressed, powerful, and influential stuffed shirt didn’t get it. Do you?
On Tuesday, we initiated three candidates at the Salt Lake Masonic Temple. During one of the breaks in the Initiation Ceremony, I visited with our Worshipful Master. While we spoke, I noticed and admiring his beautiful (and very expensive) Mickey Mouse Watch. I’m such a sucker for a well-built watch, a fine pen or a leather bound book. And I am a huge fan of Mickey.
Mickey is a symbol of one of the most innovative men who ever walked this earth. It is a symbol of the kind of experience every customer ought to have every time. Mickey also reminds me of one of my favorite vacation destinations.
Our Master, Leon, is a well-respected local attorney, having argued several cases before the Utah Supreme Court. While I admired his “everyday” Mickey Watch, and proudly showed him my Limited Edition Citizen Eco-drive, he told me he had an Eco-drive with a Gold Mickey in the Twelve position.
Leon then told me that years ago, he’d represented the prestigious president of a large local corporation before the Utah Tax Commission. In his office and just before the hearing, the president handed Leon a very nice, conservative watch and told him to change his watch because his Mickey Mouse watch looked, well, Mickey Mouse.
Now Leon is a bit of a maverick. He knows who he is and he just doesn’t compromise. It is one of the many endearing qualities that most people like about him. He is authentic. You get it straight from him, but he is also exceptionally kind, so tough things are delivered straight and compassionately.
An angry Leon told the Overblown Ego that he had two choices, head over to the hearing with his pretty watch in hand, and represent himself; or they - and Mickey - could go on over together. The president pushed him - was this his “lucky piece?” “If you have to think it is my lucky piece,” Leon replies,” then it is.”
So Leon wins big! Later he gets one of those nice “thank you” notes that also included a termination of his services to the corporation. Leon is a good and ethical attorney. He shared the story but not no more detail than I just did. I don’t know who the man was, the particulars of the case, dates, or the name of the corporation. But the story was instructive.
Any man that would hire an attorney to handle a sensitive and potentially expensive matter based on his expertise and reputation and offend him trying to change his image isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. He was powerful and obviously understands power. And he understands and wields a good bit of influence. But he’s not real bright despite his power, influence, and career success. Why?
Well, if you are worried about the image and potential success of an attorney, you don’t retain him.
If you do hire him, you don’t offend him just before you need him to be at his absolute best for you.
And, if a genuine courtroom brawler beats the opposition “big” then you don’t fire him because he wouldn’t take Mickey off his wrist because you insisted. You keep him around for the next issue.
Lastly, if he couldn’t understand Mickey is a symbol of innovation, excellence, and great experiences, he probably doesn’t understand enough to treat employees well - especially those who deal with his customers. And he isn’t creative enough to solve unusual problems or cases he didn’t study in B-school.
Mickey says something about an attorney, a product manager, film-maker, or customer service representative. That well-dressed, powerful, and influential stuffed shirt didn’t get it. Do you?
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