My new year's resolution: Listen to the mirror

(Note: I first published this as a "note" on my Facebook page in late 2011. Somehow, it never made it to my blog - and two years later it still rings as true as ever. Enjoy!)

This is the time when people start thinking about their resolutions for the coming year. They decide to do things like lose weight (always a good one in my case), save more money, or be nicer to people.

Here's mine: I am going to spend more time in front of the mirror.

No, this isn't about my looks (especially at my age :). Standing in front of the mirror actually has a much more personal and spiritual meaning for me. Allow me to explain:

Many years ago, when I was 28 years old, I stood in front of my mirror one day and said to myself, "OK, Rich. Right now you're an overworked software engineer in suburban Los Angeles. But what do you really, really want to be in another 28 years?" I was surprised at the answer that popped out, almost without thinking. "I want to write, teach, and work with people."

This answer bothered me. I had spent all this time earning an engineering degree, like everyone else in my family, and my career was humming along nicely. And, I quickly reminded myself, how many people get to program supercomputers, create computer graphics, and have lunch in Newport Beach whenever they want? So I pushed this thought back into the "pipe dream" corner of my mind and went back to shaving.

A few years later, now living in New England, I was still restless, changing jobs, and not what I would call particularly happy. So I asked myself the same question. This time the answer was a little more detailed, but it didn't bother me any less. "I would really like to be one of those author-speaker-psychotherapist types that I see on television. Not that I want to be famous. I don't, really. But I bet I would have a lot of fun, and help others in the process."

Once again, I quickly summoned the forces of reality: Don't be ridiculous. You have a wife, a car payment, and a mortgage. You have reached the leadership level of your profession. You serve on government advisory committees, and chair conference sessions. Everyone will think you are nuts if you ditch all of this and "follow your bliss." So forget about it already.

Except this time, I didn't forget about it. I started brainstorming about what life could look like, even if I still wasn't quite sure how to make it happen. I thought of all things that excited me when I was younger: writing and acting in my fourth-grade play; wanting to become a Catholic priest and help people when I grew up; my inexplicable dual major of psychology in engineering school. And it struck me that somewhere along the way I had traded all of it for someone else's idea of success.

Soon, after another job change and a move to Pittsburgh, I started consciously shifting gears away from my technological world. I read about Carl Rogers and spirituality. I started writing seriously, sketching out book projects, and even getting published. And then when rumors started to swirl about layoffs at my large company, I did the unthinkable – I went to my management and said, "Me, me, please pick me!" and left with a modest consulting retainer.

So here I was at age 40, moving back to my native Ithaca and starting my life completely over as a freelance technical writer. And you know what? It felt surprisingly good. Instead of fear, there was a delicious sense that life went on, there were always doors to knock on and temp agencies to work for, and that I was still waking up with a beautiful woman every morning. And ironically, as I slowly started building a platform as a writer, a speaker, and later a therapist, the biggest surprise of all started to dawn on me – I was much more successful than I ever was as an engineer.

Recently it struck me: nowadays, in my 60th year, I am finally living the life I described in the mirror to myself at age 28, more than half my life ago. And if I had simply done a better job of listening to myself back then – or for that matter, in fourth grade – I probably would have been living this life a very long time ago. But better late than never. I frankly felt old back then, and feel much younger now. And I still have a lot more to learn.

God speaks to people in many ways, and in my case He sometimes uses a mirror. So what is your mirror telling you?

An open letter to a frustrated wannabe author

I just got an e-mail today from a self-published author, announcing that he is quitting his newsletter, and railing about how real people have almost no chance of getting published. He points to everything from the growth of electronic self-publishing, to the number of "charlatans" out there who sell services to wannabe writers, to people not showing up at his book events. His conclusion seems to be that most people have no chance of ever succeeding as writers, and that they may as well give up.

I hear things like this all the time, and it saddens me because most of it simply isn't true. I am not going to respond personally, because I don't want to call him out - or get involved in a back-and-forth exchange I really don't have time for. But if I were to respond, I might say something like this:

"Dear Wannabe Author,

I hear your frustration with the publishing industry. And I wanted to share my thoughts with you, as someone who does write a fair number of royalty-published books.

Personally I have seen a lot of fiction and non-fiction writers get published over the years - usually mere mortals like me. I have also seen a lot of people struggle to become authors and eventually self-publish or give up. I do NOT believe that the deck is stacked against them. But I do, however, see a huge difference between the two groups.

The first group almost always works backwards from the market. They study what sells, first. Then they adapt their style around what sells. They write tight queries, good "hooks," and intelligent competitive analyses. And they keep at it until they smell like published authors. I was always the guy standing in the bookstore deconstructing top-selling business books to see how they tick. I don't copy other people, but my writing has always been informed by what people are buying right now.

By comparison, the second group is usually focused on themselves. They don't vet either their ideas or their writing against what sells. They aren't necessarily bad writers, but their end product is almost always out of step with what people are currently buying. Inevitably they rail about what a poor chance anyone has of ever getting published. Except it isn't true.

A good litmus test is to read other self-published books in your genre, then pick up some popular royalty-published books. For those who see a difference, there is hope. For those who don't, less so.

I had an interesting discussion about this with my literary agent a couple of years ago. You are probably aware a typical query has about a 5% chance of getting accepted by a given agent. What you don't know is that more than half the queries these poor agents receive are *horrible* - completely out of step with the market and/or any sense of good, readable writing. Get rid of those queries, multiply these odds by the number of agents open to submission out there, and my experience is that a serious, professional writer who studies the marketplace is looking at a much more realistic 50/50 chance.

Trust me, I've had more than my share of no-show book signings, and even though I coach non-fiction writers myself, I share your disdain of most paid services. But when I hear people say that normal people can't get published, I have to politely disagree. I know way too many who do. But they do act differently.

I completely respect whatever you decide to do with your own writing. But if you try again, I hope you decide to think like an agent or an editor, and become a student of the marketplace. Good luck!

Your friend, Rich Gallagher"

Operationalizing a Customer Service Culture - guest blog by Shep Hyken

Note from Rich: Shep Hyken is the dean of customer service speakers, and a New York Times bestseller with multiple #1 customer service books. And a prince of a guy. Few people are as on-target about how to succeed through excellent service as Shep. This guest blog shares a taste of his brand-new book Amaze Every Customer Every Time - check it out, and buy a copy today for some great free gifts!

Building the ideal corporate culture doesn’t happen by chance. If you are a leader of a company or organization and you want to instill a customer service culture, how do you make it happen? To become a customer-centric company requires first building an employee-centric workplace.

If you want your customers to be amazed – and loyal, and refer their family and friends to you, etc. – what you need to do first is amaze the employees.

If you want a real-life example that proves this concept, look no further than Ace Hardware. If I asked you to think of a word that describes the Ace chain of retail hardware stores, chances are your response would be “helpful.” And there’s good reason for that. Ace stores are billed as The Helpful Place and they work hard to truly operationalize the word helpful into their culture. That is their version of customer service and what gives them a competitive edge, even when faced with competition from much larger hardware and home improvement stores such as Lowe’s and Home Depot. They attract customers by living up to the promise of being the most helpful hardware stores on the planet. Not just nice, not just friendly – helpful. By delivering that level of service, they are able to win in a very competitive industry.

And, as I mentioned earlier, the secret – for Ace and other successful companies – is that they don’t begin by focusing on the customer. To truly become a customer-focused company, they first focus on their employees.

This is not a new concept at Ace. It isn’t a temporary customer service theme. It has always been part of the Ace philosophy. Ever since the first Ace Hardware store opened in 1924, it has held to this belief that serving the customer begins by first serving the employee. They hire the right people and train them not only in the technical details of the job, but also to deliver the Ace brand of helpful service. As management and employees treat each other with respect and dignity, they have a model for how to treat the customers.

Other companies understand and live by this philosophy as well. I have always been a big fan of Southwest Airlines Chairman Emeritus Herb Kelleher, and one reason why is that he believed in putting employees first. By doing so, he said, the employees will in turn treat the customers (or passengers) well. And what happens when customers are well taken care of? They are happy, and they reward the company with repeat business. And who else is happy? The shareholders! And it all goes back to the idea of focusing on employees first.

You want to aim for alignment in your company. Ever been in a car whose front end is out of alignment? It causes the entire car to shake. In business, if the employees don’t experience the same treatment, promise and value that you want for the customer, then the customer experience can be shaky and the entire company can suffer.

Shep Hyken is a customer experience expert and the Chief Amazement Officer of Shepard Presentations. He is a New York Times and Wall Street Journal bestselling author and has been inducted into the National Speakers Association Hall of Fame for lifetime achievement in the speaking profession. Shep works with companies and organizations who want to build loyal relationships with their customers and employees. For more articles on customer service and business go to http://www.hyken.com. Shep’s new book is Amaze Every Customer Every Time.

Copyright ©MMXIII 

Investing in yourself

Many years ago, after purchasing a vehicle, one of my co-workers sourly observed, "You'll never get rich buying new cars."

But actually, he was wrong. Years later, when I was starting my consulting business, getting a new car - at a time when I had no income whatsoever - turned out to be one of the smartest financial moves I ever made. And perhaps one of the smartest moves YOU could make too. Allow me to explain.

Here's the backstory. In 1996, after a pretty good first year as a consultant, everything came to a very hard stop. All of my projects and clients turned into a pumpkin at nearly the same time, and my income came to a screeching halt. From there, I couldn't get myself arrested. Three months later, adding insult to injury, my wheezy old car with six figures on the odometer needed major repairs.

With my tail between my legs, I went to my local dealer to try and trade for a passable used car while I got back on my feet again. Instead, the salesperson wheeled out one of the most gorgeous vehicles I'd ever seen - a brand-new, full size car with metallic paint, a sunroof, and a premium stereo system. And explained how leasing it for two years would only put a small amount of my assets at risk.

His numbers actually made sense. And so I will never forget the feeling of having had no income in three months, no idea when I would ever work again, and driving off the lot in the nicest car I had ever owned.

Here is why it actually made good financial sense. Every time I got behind the wheel of this beautiful car, I FELT like a successful person. And ACTED like a successful person. Which made a real, tangible difference as I started knocking on doors, lining up gigs and clients, and planning my future. Soon I was back in business again, and I proudly paid that car off early and kept it for seven years.

Think about it. If you are selling your ideas or services to someone, what would give you your best chance of succeeding: feeling hot, sweaty, and dirty, or feeling freshly showered and clean in a nice suit? Either feeling transmits itself to other people, and the same thing is true for the rest of your self-image. And what they perceive, in turn, ultimately governs your success.

So I am not suggesting that you start taking stupid risks, or drive your cash flow into the ground. But I do want you to rethink what the hair-shirt types often tell you about scrimping and sacrificing in the early stages of your business. What works for them frankly wouldn't have worked for me - and I feel strongly that you should do whatever will make YOU most successful.

Nearly two decades later, I still drive around in a nice car, because I firmly believe that how you FEEL and how you ACT are major determinants of success. (My current ride is pictured above.) So whatever it takes to make you feel awesome - and then share that awesomeness with the world - seriously consider it as part of your business plan. Invest in yourself and your self-image, and I believe the rewards will often come back to you many times over.

Guest post: Announcing the paperback release of Who's Your Gladys!

Note from Rich: Today’s guest post is an excerpt from the #1 customer service bestseller by my good friends and colleagues Marilyn Suttle and Lori Jo Vest, “Who’s Your Gladys? How to Turn Even the Most Difficult Customer into Your Biggest Fan” To celebrate the release of the paperback version, the authors are giving away free gifts with purchase here: www.whosyourgladys.com/paperbacklaunch

This excerpt from chapter 1 is based on interviews with Professional Movers, a world-class moving company located in Walled Lake, Michigan.

Eighty-seven-year-old Gladys has a reputation among her fellow retirement community members. She’s known as a cranky complainer who is impossible to please. But to her surprise, when she called Andrew Androff’s company, Professional Movers, to move her into her new apartment, she was treated with warmth and respect. When her sales rep, Chris, visited her home to quote the job, he noticed her prickly personality and made a conscious decision to focus on her spunk and tenacity. By the end of his visit, Gladys had bonded with Chris and booked the move.

On moving day, there was a mishap. One of the movers accidentally cracked Gladys’s marble tabletop. Andrew knew that she would be furious. Determined to set things right, he prepared himself to let her vent before she could even think about possible solutions. As predicted, Gladys had steam shooting out her ears.

Andrew felt compassion for her while she vented and assured her that his company would have the table repaired, and that if she wasn’t satisfied with the results, he would replace it. Although he continued to reassure her that things would be set right, she was still spitting mad. Gladys wanted to talk to Chris, who had sold her on the company in the first place, and Andrew promised to have Chris call her as soon as he came into the office.

Chris arrived dead tired after a long day filled with meetings with potential new customers. When Andrew told him about Gladys and asked if he’d be willing to call her, Chris responded, ‘‘No way. She’s going to need more than a phone call. I’ll stop by her house on my way home.’’ Chris arrived at Gladys’s house ready to comfort her through her anger and outrage. Then he assured her that he would personally oversee the repair of her table. This calmed her down, and she thanked him for coming over.

Unfortunately, the repair was less than perfect. Andrew knew that he had to set things right, even though doing so would be expensive. He called Gladys and promised that she could meet Chris at the marble store and personally pick out her new marble tabletop. Since Chris knew that Gladys didn’t drive, he called and arranged to pick her up and take her to the store himself.

Gladys is now living at one of metropolitan Detroit’s premier retirement communities with her new marble table. While it cost Andrew and his employee Chris extra time and extra money to make things right, the payoff was outstanding. Gladys tells everyone moving into or out of her assisted living complex that they have to hire Professional Movers if they want to work with the best movers in town. High and persistent praise from such a hard-to-please person attracts attention. As a result, Andrew’s company is now the number one choice of movers for Gladys’s retirement complex. By creating a culture that values compassionate connection with his customers, Andrew has built a referral base that has helped his sales grow by over 40 percent in two years.

This culture of connection has been particularly effective in building a strong business with senior citizens. Seniors often move from their homes to be nearer to their children or to retire to a senior community. Professional Movers has found this population to be a good fit for its particular style of customer service, so it put a great deal of effort into developing the market segment. Everyone at Professional Movers makes a practice of creating a human connection with her clients. The staff members show respect for their clients’ wisdom, experience, and opinions.  They also know how moving affects their clients, both physically and emotionally. It isn’t easy leaving behind the security of their homes, their friendships with neighbors, and the familiarity of their routines. Andrew’s employees are trained to be sensitive to the unique issues of downsizing. They are sensitive to the emotional connection to their precious family heirlooms that senior citizens feel as they leave behind the past. Professional Movers strives to give seniors the sort of service they would receive if their own family were doing the job.

‘‘It’s like we’re their sons,’’ Andrew said with a laugh. ‘‘We get very close with their families. We interview their caregivers and their social workers. It really helps us develop a customized process to address their concerns.’’ This needs-based approach to both customer service and sales has helped the company become the top provider of moving services in metropolitan Detroit’s retirement market.

Enjoy  “Who’s Your Gladys? How to Turn Even the Most Difficult Customer into Your Biggest Fan” - available at most online booksellers, or purchase it from Amazon.com here.

Rich Gallagher, LMFT

Some people's midlife crises involve sports cars or beautiful women. Mine involved deciding, in my 50s, to become a practicing psychotherapist.

Today I am proud to announce getting my New York State clinical license in marriage and family therapy.  As long as I behave myself and pay my renewal fees, I am now officially a therapist for the rest of my life. (Until now, I have been practicing under a supervised "learner's permit" that expires for good this year.) This marks the end of a long journey, and I couldn't be happier.

For me, this was always the path not taken, and one that called to me even as I pursued a seemingly more practical career (and my family's tradition) in technology. I even had a dual major in psychology as a Cornell engineering student in the 1970s, and was genuinely torn whether to become an engineer or a therapist. It was a heady time when people started to explore human potential and inner space, when I thought psychotherapists were the coolest people in the world. And I still do.

When I first started down this road in 2005, volunteering as a crisisline counselor, this was my dirty little secret - a Walter Mitty life I didn't tell most people about. When I started graduate school in 2007, videotaping my first counseling assignment, I felt like a rookie football player walking into an NFL locker room for the first time. And by the time I started my clinical practicum in 2009 - by which time I was seeing clients two days a week, as I do now - my secret was finally out.

So how do I feel after finishing graduate school and close to four years of supervised practice? First of all, I enjoy doing this as much as I thought I would. Ever since I was a young child wanting to become a Catholic priest when I grew up, my real goal in life was to help people be happier - not just write software and feed the cats and pay the mortgage. So for me this is an affirmation of life, as I transition to retirement in a few short years.

People often tell me, "I couldn't do counseling. Who wants to listen to other people's problems all day?" While it does have its moments, my experience is generally the opposite. Good therapy is a process of happymaking, and most people leave feeling better than when they came in. At least with me, a surprising amount of laughter takes place in session, even in some very serious situations. Even though this is very secular work, it often feels like we are creating a sacred space for people to be heard and understood, learn new skills, and make positive and fundamental life changes.

This work helps me too. It has introduced me to a larger community of therapists that has been incredibly generous of spirit with me, including three clinical supervisors (for my practicum in NY, my internship in PA, and my postgraduate clinical work) who have been the best and kindest mentors I could ever ask for. It dovetails nicely with my "day job" writing and speaking about communications skills. It opens up a whole new world of fascinating conferences and workshops. And yes, the things I have learned working with others benefit my own mental health and wellness.

From here, I hope to keep learning and growing. I already have a bucket list of things to explore further, ranging from my current specialty of treating anxiety disorders (my colleagues joke that I've become the "anxiety guy" at my current clinic) to going on retreat and exploring the nexus between psychotherapy and spirituality (another interest from my wannabe-priest days). Above all, I hope to keep doing well by my current and future clients, because that is what this is really all about. My sincere thanks to everyone who has supported me on this journey.

We're number 1 (again)!

When you release a new book on how to handle your very worst customer situations - and it becomes the #1 customer service book in America on the very first day it launches - that tells you this is a hot-button topic for people all over the country. (Even when it has a great launch campaign.) I couldn't be happier and more proud to be part of the dialogue on it.

Wednesday we kicked off the launch campaign for my new book The Customer Service Survival Kit with a webinar sponsored by Citrix GoToAssist and industry portal site (and longtime partner-in-crime) SupportIndustry.com. The energy level was incredible: we had over 1700 people signed up, almost 800 attending live, and enough questions to keep us running well past the top of the hour. And a truly amazing number of them went out and purchased the book afterward.

All of this tells me that people have a real hunger to learn how to handle their most difficult customers - especially today. Life is more stressful and fast-paced than ever, customers are more demanding, and sadly many people live in fear of being on the receiving end of a meltdown. But the good news is that by learning the same kinds of skills used by hostage negotiators, crisis counselors, and others, people can learn to completely blow away this fear and walk confidently into any customer situation. I wrote this book to take what I've learned as a former customer support executive - and practicing psychotherapist - and create an actionable game plan for mastering your very worst situations.

Some of you may know that this is actually my second #1 customer service book on Amazon.com, the first being my 2008 book What to Say to a Porcupine. (And I will never forget that taste of electricity in my mouth when it first hit #1.) But this new book had a very different vibe. First, Porcupine hit number 1 several months after its release, and its webinars drew barely half the audience of this new one. Second, it benefited from a good run in the bookstores and excellent press coverage, including being a finalist for 800-CEO-READ's business book of the year. By comparison, The Customer Service Survival Kit shot to the top right out of the starting gate, on the strength of a very timely topic.

This book also succeeded on the wings of a truly generous community of fellow authors, speakers, and thought leaders who helped me out in ways too numerous to mention. New York Times bestselling author and CNBC host Carol Roth, for whom I am a contributing blogger, not only wrote a great foreword but even offered up her cousin, an airline manager whose touching story of grief counseling after the 9/11 tragedy helped lead off the book. (Check out a great interview we just did on her midday show on Chicago superstation WGN, right here.) Countless others posted, tweeted, wrote reviews, offered launch gifts or cheered me on in ways I will always appreciate and cherish.

Above all, I want to thank you! The rave reviews and support I have received this week from the public has been overwhelming. If you haven't checked the book and its free gifts out yet, visit us here. Together, we are making the world a little nicer and a little safer from our very worst customer situations.

Too Big to Listen: A "Brief" Course in Corporate Communications

One thing never ceases to amaze me: big companies whose responses to customers sound like they were written by robots.

Here is a recent example. At the risk of TMI, I recently wrote to one of my favorite big-box department stores about their men's underwear - or lack thereof. Here is what I wrote:

"I'll be brief - no pun intended.

Check out the men's underwear department at (my local store) sometime. You will find rows and rows and rows and rows of boxer briefs. And maybe two forlorn packages of briefs, of any brand - none in my size and colors, of course.

According to AskMen.com, 57% of men wear briefs, and 18% wear boxer briefs. Someone oughta clue in your underwear buyer. Thanks!

Best, Rich"

My note was short, to the point, well researched, and even a little humorous. It was not the least bit impolite. I even avoided the technically accurate groaner of signing off with my work address of Brief Therapy Associates (where I do actually practice as a therapist).

So here is the gist of their response -- with my thoughts in bold:

"Dear Richard,

Thank you for your comments regarding the current selection at your local store. At (insert name of big box store), our goal is to offer our customers a wide assortment of merchandise. In most cases, we offer a broad selection in our merchandise.

(Why, oh why, do most of these letters start by saying "Our goal is to do exactly the opposite of what we actually do"?)

We are continually looking for ways to best meet the needs of all customers and in turn, improve customer convenience.

(I am writing about something you do poorly -- and often -- and you respond by telling me how you are always busy improving? Methinks you've been looking under the wrong rock.)

Therefore, your feedback is very important and will be taken under consideration for any of our future buying decisions. We apologize for any inconvenience our current selection may have caused. We appreciate the time you took to contact us and look forward to serving you again at (insert name of big box store again).

(So my request has been put on the suggestion pile. Whoop-de-doo. I am thrilled, I tell you, thrilled.)

Sincerely, (whomever)"

So how should people react to this? Well, picture this. A mother catches her son with his hand in the cookie jar. He responds, "My goal is to only eat cookies at the appropriate times. I am always looking for ways to improve our supply of cookies as well as my dental health. Therefore your feedback is very important, and I will take it under consideration." Think this would work?

This is why the average six year old is smarter -- in fact, much smarter -- than the average big-box retailer. Meanwhile some corporate weenie is actually drawing a paycheck for penning words like these, for their customer service departments to cut-and-paste, thinking they will actually help.

Here is the response I was really thinking about: "Hey Rich. Sorry about that. We really should do a better job of stocking men's underwear. It's a hassle going all the way to a store and not finding something that basic in stock. We'll let you know when we fix this. Meanwhile, here's a five buck discount for your trouble. Thanks!" Now, would that be so hard?

The power of positive grumbling

I've been grumbling all day today. And for good reason:

·         First, I'm grumbling because I am busy. Really busy. Late-nighters and all-nighters all week busy. And I'm going to be busy for a while yet.

·         Second, I'm grumbling because I am in the middle of a 10-day-long course of antibiotics. One of its listed side effects is irritability. No fun.

·         Third, I'm grumbling because it's cold outside, and the walls seem to be shrinking in by about a foot a day.

So what's wrong with this picture? Here's what's wrong:

First, there are people out there who would give their right arm for the great workload I usually take for granted. To have a regular income coming in. To have the world validate their talents. To be self-employed and happy. I should be jumping for joy to watch the clock turn 2 AM. After all, I'm home, I'm safe, and I love what I am doing.

For some people, their days stretch sadly and endlessly ahead of them. But for me, I look ahead and see guest lectures to give, therapy sessions to hold, lunches with cool people, client projects to finish, even a new book to launch soon. Busy is way cool.

Second, what about the antibiotics? They are the greatest news in the world. At the risk of TMI, I had a health scare this fall when my PSA started climbing after a routine physical. Last week I just learned that I don't have prostate cancer - I have prostatitis. Prostatitis is awesome. It's fantastic. It's fixable. My doctor doesn't even want to see me for another six months. (And my PSA is returning to normal levels.) So I should be wolfing down these antibiotics with glee, irritability and all.

Third, about the cold: I am in a warm house with a beautiful woman, good food, great music, and a picture window that looks out over acres of rolling hills. I live in a great town. I am happy, healthy (prostatitis notwithstanding), and in love. And March is only five weeks away.

What I have just used here is a powerful technique from psychotherapy known as reframing. It is not the same as positive thinking. Rather, it takes reality - keeps it completely real - but frames it in terms that are much less scary. You can use it to describe life events, other people, or the way you are thinking. You could think of it as positive grumbling.

Reframing is very powerful. I've watched it change relationships and lift depressions. Today, it even made me stop grumbling. Try it yourself, and see what it can do for you!

Dr. Richard H. Gallagher: A tribute

(Note: My late father would have been 85 years old this year. Sadly his life was cut short just before his 70th birthday, on September 30, 1997, after bravely battling a rare form of cancer while at the peak of his career as President of Clarkson University. He was one of the pioneers of modern engineering design analysis.

This tribute was originally written by me just before his passing, and sent to his professional colleagues after he died. I recently discovered that its original web host is now defunct, and wanted to preserve this online for posterity on my own blog.)

My father was, on the surface, one of the most improbable people one could imagine as a pioneer of modern engineering analysis. He was a kid from the Bronx who left home at age 16 to try and join the military, and describes his entry into engineering school as being almost an afterthought following the end of World War II and his Navy enlistment. He later graduated from an engineering program in New York that no longer exists, and was nearly in his forties, supporting a wife and five children, when he earned his doctorate in night school at an institution that had never granted them in his field before.

His accomplishments since then could easily fill the successful careers of several people, and many people who know him from one field are unaware of his accomplishments in others. He progressed from being a practicing engineer, to an industry pioneer of the finite element analysis method, to a distinguished Ivy League teaching career, to becoming a highly successful academic official and university president. In each of these diverse activities, he not only succeeded, but received the highest honors of each field in turn.

Behind the official accolades, however, was a very modest and private person whose personal integrity was absolute. During his retirement from the presidency of Clarkson University, the one comment we heard the most from his colleagues was "Dick is the most solid person I've ever known", and this was as true in his personal life as it was in his career. He never boasted of his achievements off-camera - his work itself gave him pleasure, and it sustained him day and night throughout his entire working life.

He felt that technology was an important means of improving everyone's success in life, and was a tireless proponent of both bringing more women and minorities into the engineering field, as well as helping practicing engineers to become lifelong learners. And even as a young engineer, he saw his field in very global terms. I will never forget, as a young boy, seeing how excited he was about presenting one of his first papers in Stuttgart, Germany -- he put aside finite elements for weeks in a crash effort to learn German, and gave a successful lecture.

From there, our family quickly became used to seeing him travel to Asian universities, behind Iron Curtains, and to every continent on earth as an active member of the FEA fraternity, while he and his wife Terry increasingly became host to a steady stream of international visitors. Early in his life, he developed a habit of purchasing a ceramic mug from each institution he would lecture at, and this massive international collection of beer steins remains a testament to his globetrotting support of the field.

It is a well-known "secret" among Dick's colleagues that all five of his children became engineering graduates, and pursued successful technology careers of their own. What is less known is that this was never his wish. I don't believe that he ever expressed a career preference to any of his children as they grew up, and was in fact a strong proponent of the classic liberal arts education; indeed, he married a cum laude graduate in English who was a published poet and a promising advertising copywriter. At home, he would light up as much talking about world history and popular culture as he ever did about engineering analysis, and we all remember road trips which would stop at every historical site, castle or bridge within range of our route. The fact that each of his offspring chose to pursue technology instead is a testament to how brightly his enthusiasm glowed for his own work, and his wish for at least one of us to become a person of arts and letters stands as one of few goals that he ever failed at.

Sharing the same name as my father, I experience constant reminders of his impact on the engineering field. At times, people mistaking me for him laud the impact of "my" books and papers on their careers; more often, they go out of their way to share what an influence the man and his work has been to them. His efforts literally paved the way for a multi-billion dollar industry, thousands of careers, and millions of lives improved.

In his last commencement speech at Clarkson, which he gave shortly after learning of his illness, he spoke in a strong, clear voice of how we must all have a sense of urgency in our lives, how quickly his own 45 year career had passed, and how the decisions we make early on affect us for the rest of our lives. The decisions that he made in his own life benefited all of us.

Me ... live ... inexpensively ... at your company!

(This is a shameless plug from my friends at SupportIndustry.com. Did you know that I do inexpensive custom webinars for customer contact operations worldwide through SupportIndustry.com, on areas like customer skills, supervision, and workplace communications? My webinar client list includes firms like Mattel, Employers Mutual Casualty (where we trained 200 managers live across the country, with remote facilitators and team exercises), and many others. Check this out and give Carolyn a call!)

You want to motivate and train your support staff, but with limited resources, it is hard to get them off the phones for a full day of training. SupportIndustry.com has an alternative.

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We can also help your managers deal with their greatest challenges, including:

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So, how does it work? We will talk with you to determine the biggest issues currently facing your organization, and put together a webinar designed to meet your needs. Your support staff will attend a customized workshop designed to address their most pressing issues.

Remember - research shows that employees are most happy when the companies they work for invest in training to enable them to do their job better. So help your support staff start 2013 out right and show them you are committed to helping them succeed!

For more information, e-mail me at chealey@supportindustry.com or give me a call at 805.569.5761.

Thank you!

Carolyn Healey
Publisher
http://www.SupportIndustry.com
http://www.CRMindustry.com
http://www.RecognizeServiceExcellence.com

The view from this far

This week I enter my 59th year. So what does it feel like to be approaching my 60s? The real answer is a little complex, but I'll give it a try.

The first answer is that I feel this is an ideal age. I wish I could stay here for a while. I wake up feeling pretty good every morning, with someone I am still madly in love with, but with the advantage of a lot more experience, wisdom, and resources versus when I was younger.

In some ways this age is liberating. Take career issues, for example. I remember all too well how painful it was to be struggling with making a living in my 30s and 40s. When you are that age, career problems loom extremely large, because you have to worry about supporting yourself for another quarter-century or more. Nowadays I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Aging also liberates you from people's expectations. In my 20s and 30s, with an engineering degree and a hot technical career, any suggestion of trying another path was met with alarm by my friends, my relatives, and my mortgage. Now no one cares anymore, so I get to do whatever I want. And ironically I am busier and more successful than ever - although if you ask me what I do for a living, allow enough time for a lengthy answer.

At the same time, there is a twinge of sadness that time marches on. You notice it when you scan your iTunes playlist and see how many of the artists you grew up with have passed on. You look through your Facebook friends list and see that a lot of your colleagues are retired. Or you call your mother and she doesn't remember your wife's name anymore. I had a bit of a shock last month when we got tickets to see Chicago and the Doobie Brothers - groups that formed the soundtrack to our dating years - and realized that their original members are all roughly 70 years old now. So as much fun as it is to be here now, I still have to wrap my head around the fact that it doesn't end there.

Which leads to another conundrum. I am still very much in the arena these days. I write, I speak, I travel, and I have a new book coming out next year from a major publisher. Thankfully I am busy enough to be working far too many hours, and have been for a long time. Do I plan to shut all this down and start playing shuffleboard in a few years? No. So what does retirement look like for someone like me?

I frankly haven't figured that one out yet. To be as busy as I am now into, say, my 70s sounds kind of stupid, especially when I could be sharing a lot more sunsets with Colleen. But when you are a go-getter like I am, simply watching the sun set every night would be a recipe for boredom and depression. I never intend to retire in the traditional sense of the word, but the challenge will be striking a balance with the many things I truly enjoy.

Perhaps my latest venture is a good metaphor for where my life seems to be heading. Years ago I quietly went back to graduate school to pursue a longstanding pipe dream: becoming a psychotherapist as I transitioned into retirement. Nowadays I am in practice a couple of days a week, on top of all the other crazy things I do, and Colleen gets to chuckle at me when my schedule is full or I have to rush out for a crisis intervention. (One of my brothers put it even more succinctly, saying you couldn't force him to do this at gunpoint.) But I enjoy it, and did this intentionally to stay relevant as I age and the phone stops ringing in my consulting practice. Except that it hasn't stopped ringing yet. So that may be what my retirement looks like after all: reasonably well planned, focused on things I love, and perhaps busier than I expected. Stay tuned!

My Blue Sweater, Or The Fine Art of Ignoring Your Customers

This is my favorite blue sweater. It fulfills the three basic things I need when I venture out into the world this time of year: it's my color, it looks good with a sport coat, and it keeps me warm. And it's machine washable.

So you would think that every year or two I'd simply go down to my favorite department store - or online catalog - and buy a couple, right? Wrong. Most years I go shopping for sweaters, the stores have decided I really want green plaid ones. Or cable-knit ones with big fat ribs. Or ones with embroidered antelopes. Or the $150 rabbit-hair, dry-clean-only version of what I want.

And yet when I walk around on the streets, most fellow business people are wearing what I'm wearing. I never see them wearing embroidered antelopes. Which leads me to a simple question: How come so many businesses won't just sell us what we want?

Another example. This is an Open Oyster from Godiva Chocolates. My wife's favorite treat. Whenever I'm on a business trip to a major city like New York or Toronto, I stop by a Godiva store and get her a bunch of them.

So why don't I just go online to Godiva.com and get her more of these anytime? Because Godiva.com won't sell them to me. You can't purchase individual chocolate pieces in quantity. You can, however, buy their All-Sorts-Of-Crap-You-Don't-Want-Plus-An-Open-Oyster-Or-Two boxed assortment anytime you wish.

This reminds me of when I got my first iPod and discovered that I couldn't simply buy a set of replacement Apple earphones for it. Like Godiva, the geniuses at Apple (pun intended) apparently decided that I had to either buy them as part of a more expensive package, or get a more well-behaved cat next time. Or my favorite solution, get another brand of earphones.

No substitutions. Only sold as a set. Parts not available separately. Wholesale only. How often do we hear phrases like this, when we simply want to buy what people are selling. At many businesses, some genius keeps thinking up restrictions like these, for reasons that are usually completely beyond me.

So what is so hard about simply selling us what we want? Instead companies seem to behave in ways my Austrian grandmother would call "schtupid, schtupid, schtupid." I don't understand it. At all. If you could clue me in, please do so. Thanks!

Do business success tips work?

When you run a small business, there is no lack of chirpy articles on how to succeed. But do they work? Just for fun, I decided to take one of them (from a recent Forbes Magazine series, linked here) and hold it up against my own 15 years of successful self-employment.

It's actually not a bad article, and the author has great credentials. But your mileage may vary. So let's compare its "seven habits of highly effective freelancers" with my reality:

1. Start early

I am a serious night owl, and always have been. Sure, I'll get up at 6 AM sometimes - in fact, regularly - to deliver a kick-butt keynote speech or workshop somewhere. But people should work at their peak times, and mine is decidedly late evening.

Besides, late hours have their advantages. Tomorrow I have a teleconference with a new client in Germany - at 2 AM. Next week I stay up late again to do a webinar for Australia during their daytime. Like a chain convenience store, I'm always open.

2. Always be pitching

I don't know about you, but people who are always pitching annoy the crap out of me. My own clients seem to like the fact that I never, ever try to snocker them into giving me more work, and I strongly suspect that "pitching" them would drive more than a few away.

So how do I get business? Above all, through word-of-mouth from other satisfied clients. And through marketing, which is not the same as pitching. I publish books, write articles, give talks and webinars, and generally pester no one.

3. Create your space

There is a perfectly good desk somewhere under my piles of paperwork. But I know exactly where everything is, and I can't see where this has hurt my income any.

4. Diversify yourself

OK, this one I do agree with. Most successful self-employed people I know do multiple things for a living. And I think it's cool being a writer/speaker/psychotherapist/whatever-else-I-feel-like-today. Being a "mutt" with diverse interests is one of the hidden keys to success.

5. Negotiate, negotiate, negotiate

Better known as "talking yourself out of projects with fixed budgets." Google Phil Jackson this week - who reportedly lost the chance to coach the Lakers again after making a series of demands, despite being the best coach in recorded history - and see what being a tough negotiator gets you.

I'll give the author this much: gently exploring options or pricing is OK in my book, and I do it too. But quote-unquote negotiators are generally a pain in the ass. I've seen people lose jobs, consulting gigs, and friendships because they focus too much on negotiating and not enough on taking the gig.

6. Mingling, baby

Touching base with friends, colleagues, and clients sounds great. But this tip talks about how you should "wade into the  revenue stream every day." Does this mean you are pitching again? If so, go back and re-read my comments on tip #2.

7. Get a life

I didn't realize mine was missing in the first place. Enjoying what I do for a living is a big part of that.

So what is my formula for business success? Um, apparently stay up late, wait for customers to come to me, have a messy desk, and do very little negotiation. I can see why Forbes probably won't come calling on me for an article anytime soon. But seriously, here's my success tip: Do what you love. Be really good at it. And live a life that fits who you are. Then all the other stuff will fall into place.

The only political blog I will write all year

It is election season in America. That time of year when people start putting up posts and blogs about how candidates are horrible, evil, terrible, corrupt, and will ruin this country if, God forbid, they get elected. And that is just from the people I like and respect - don't get me started on what the politically over-invested are posting.

My position? I make most of my living training people how to build consensus and resolve conflict. So what may seem like political opinions to you are, to me, examples of how to do exactly the opposite of everything I teach. Let's break down what is happening linguistically in most of these posts:

The "doctor" technique: As in the old joke, "What do the call the person who graduated last in medical school? Doctor." The technique goes something like this: take any candidate. Find the stupidest person in their party. Find the stupidest thing the stupidest person says. Then link the candidate to it: "This candidate's party believes in (insert quoted stupidity here)! How horrible!"

"Hate" speech: Take a position. Any position. Then find whomever might not agree with it 100%, and make the candidate "hate" them. Everywhere I look, candidates apparently hate growth, hate women, hate small business, hate progress, hate freedom of choice ... or whatever. So, for example, whenever I wolf down a pizza I apparently "hate" fresh food.

Liar! Liar!: Someone backed something and then the legislation never passed? He lied! Someone laid out an economic plan and then the economy changed? They lied! Someone crossed party lines to build a bipartisan consensus on something? She lied! Try confronting your spouse with "You LIED!" the next time he or she is running a few minutes late sometime, and then let me know me how well it works.

(By the way, in case you are keeping track, the search phrases "Obama lies" and "Romney lies" actually have almost identical counts on Google - 155 million each, give or take.)

Did you know that so-and-so voted for (whatever)?: They say if you like laws or sausages, don't watch either being made. Any elected official who does their job and votes to keep the budget running, the government functioning, etcetera will vote regularly for huge bills with zillions of obscure things in them. Here, you take the stupidest ones and say your opponent voted for them. The classic example of this is "(S)he voted to raise taxes 87 times."

Bracketing: Do I want peace? Well, duh, yes. Do I think people should learn and speak English? Golly, my English teacher always thought so. Should we save the environment? Give me a break, of course we should. Am I in favor of family values? Last time I looked, I haven't seen anyone against them. What you are seeing here is a technique where people ask stupid questions with only one answer, and when you give the one answer, you are supposedly on their side.

When I see any of these techniques in play, especially in politics, I automatically shut down to whatever is being said. Both at a personal level, because I wasn't taught to talk about others this way, and at a political level, because I wish we wouldn't keep voting for polarized gridlock government every year. Meanwhile, I am looking forward to the second week in November, when it will hopefully be safe to go back on Facebook again.

Raisin consciousness

I was talking back to a box of raisins this morning at breakfast.

No, don't go packing me off to a therapist yet (never mind that I *am* a therapist). These raisins and I have had a relationship going back for years. In fact, I blogged about it previously. For years, Sun-Maid Raisins has put motivational or inspirational sayings on the flaps of their little raisin boxes. Usually good advice about things like smiling more often, or the occasional raisin-centric plug. For a long time, I've enjoyed starting my day seeing what the raisins have to tell me.

I wasn't too happy with the raisins today, however. And there is a good life lesson on communication here that is worth sharing with all of you: when you cross the line from being supportive to telling people what to do, you start getting yourself in trouble.

Today, the raisin box said, "Pick up what you tripped over, so no one else does!" Including the exclamation point. My first reaction? I don't take orders from a box of raisins. And I certainly didn't ask them to be my mother. Their job is (a) to get sprinkled on my oatmeal and eaten, and (b) perhaps to make me smile and feel good. Anything else is shoving their oar in, even if they are a bunch of dried grapes.

A little later, I sat down and examined this reaction. After all, I am one of the most responsible people I know. I'm a mature adult approaching retirement age. I probably would pick up something I tripped over. So if this bothered *me*, how would other people react?

And that is exactly my point. Too many of us - including me sometimes - act like the raisins. We try to correct people. We try to "help" them. We give them advice. We show them the error of their ways. And then we wonder why they never listen to us.

I know the raisins mean well. But in my view, there is only one truly effective way of motivating people: Listen to them. "Get" them. Cheer them on. Understand and empathize with their struggles. And then, if you absolutely must give them advice, do it gently as an equal. Whether you are a person or a box of dried fruit.

Bob Welch and the quiet desperation of men

The recent suicide of former Fleetwood Mac guitarist Bob Welch was the saddest news I have heard in a long time. I always felt a special bond with his music, starting back when I would play his ethereal Future Games late at night as a college disc jockey, and continuing to the present day: I was just listening to his latest 2012 album Bob Welch Sings the Best Songs Ever Written a week before he died.

We will never really know what led Welch to end his life - that is personal and private. But according to news reports he had recently undergone spinal surgery, had been told he would never recover, and did not want his wife to care for an invalid, a fate that met his own father.

To me, this brings up a deeper point. Men often naturally define themselves around what they "do." It is a survival instinct that goes back thousands of years for us. When early man lost the ability to hunt and gather, it meant the end of his life. To this day, the end of our productive years is often one of the most bitter and lonely experiences men ever go through.

To be blunt, too many men I know have died or disappeared into isolation soon after watching their life's work fade into the sunset: family members, classmates, neighbors, and people in the community. Far too many to be a coincidence in my book. And I have tasted it myself. Leaving corporate life as I neared age 50 - knowing that at my age and salary, I was probably never coming back - was one of the most painful things I ever experienced. It is a deep, spiritual pain that doesn't go away easily, even as you recover financially and move on.

Thankfully I regained my own joy of living again. (I used to joke that the most powerful antidepressant I could take would be a book contract, and there was ultimately a lot of truth in that jest.) Nowadays I can actually thank this experience for what it taught me. Today I am fiercely proud of running a successful business for nearly a decade, and practically militant about the need for men to develop self-employment skills as they age. And when I eventually went back to school to become a therapist, it not only fulfilled a lifelong personal goal, it was in part to have a role into retirement that no one could take from me.

Whatever your gender, we now live in an unprecedented era that treats too many of us as being disposable as we age. I feel this hits men particularly hard, because we have such a long history of being providers. My response to this? Fight back. Understand your feelings and survival instincts. Let them lead you to new paths in life, to counselors who can help you, to the fellowship of others. Your intelligence and talents are often the very reasons you hurt so badly. Don't give up.

And finally, a few words for those who love the men in their lives. Don't gloss over what they are experiencing with pat answers or chirpy slogans. Don't wait impatiently for them to "get over it." And please don't tell them they should just learn to live in the moment like you do. We aren't wired that way. Listen to them and learn from them, and they will tell you what they need.

Rest in peace, Bob Welch.

Banned for life

Have you ever hated a company so much that you swore them off for the rest of your life?

My late father was a successful engineering professor for most of his life, who eventually became a university president. What is less well-known about him was that in the early years of his career, he worked for a major oil company. He and his co-workers hated working there. In fact, they hated it so much that as he left this company, this practical and fairly even-tempered man made a vow with his co-workers never to purchase their products again as long as they lived!

Perhaps it sounded like a few disgruntled employees blowing off steam. But as we grew up, our family got used to the idea that Dad would always drive past this (major) brand's gas stations, in favor of any other one. Over time, it became part of our family history.

Of course, being a family tradition, his children honored it as well. I certainly never wanted to disrespect my father and use this gas station either. In my entire adult life, the only time I ever made an exception to the family boycott was when I was running out of gas in the middle of the Arizona desert, in the middle of blistering 100-plus degree heat, when one of their stations was the only one around for many miles. But even then, I felt kind of like a Hindu vegetarian who had just eaten a greasy pork sandwich to survive.

Perhaps a fitting epilogue to this boycott came late in my father's life, when he attended a reunion and reconnected with some of his fellow engineers from that oil company. And guess what - they confided to Dad that they, too, had honored their vow never to use their products in their vehicles. All their lives. And probably passed it along to their children too. Meanwhile, in my own family, this boycott will soon be entering a fourth generation.

So how much do your employees love your company? Would they purchase your products and services after they leave? In fact, would they leave in the first place?

The tragedy of the commons: Why service businesses are killing themselves

As a customer service guy by trade, I have noticed something interesting recently: more businesses than ever are chasing their best customers away.

Put bluntly, I can no longer make a major purchase - and sometimes even a minor one - without getting aggressively hounded to buy upgrades, add-on warranties or services I don't want, to a degree I have never seen before. I often react to this pressure by never coming back. Multiply this by lots of others, and I can see why many retail and service businesses are going the way of lemmings marching off a cliff.

Take the time I took a business trip to the West Coast, and was browbeaten by the rental car agent for the entire transaction about upgrading to a bigger car - asking why I didn't want it, pushing the benefits of the more expensive car, and sighing and acting like I was stupid not to take advantage of such a deal. (Even worse was the time an agent said, "How would you like an Impala?" implying I was getting one anyway, and then silently upcharging me without my permission.) Nowadays I rent cars from firms with automated kiosks where possible, and avoid live agents like the plague.

More recently, I went to purchase some home exercise equipment. As soon as the dreaded extended warranty question came up, I made it clear I had no interest whatsoever. Not that my wishes mattered. The salesperson insisted on going over one "benefit" after another of his plan, as I kept saying no thanks.

Then he asked why I didn't want to buy it, and silly me, I told him: I rarely use coverage like this, and when I have actually filed a claim my service experiences have usually been horrible. Of course, he didn't actually want to know why I wasn't interested. He just wanted to keep me talking so he could yeah-but everything I said. Finally, as he kept blathering on, I walked away.

Same deal when I purchased a new computer this month. This time the clerk not only didn't give up, but called her manager over for yet another round of "Why don't you want to buy this service plan?"  I practically felt like I was going to be led away for an interrogation before I made it to the checkout counter.

In perhaps the stupidest example of all - and one I blogged about previously - I went to a bookstore for the express purpose of purchasing some expensive professional books I had once browsed there. Solely to be fair to the store instead of buying them online. My reward was to be ceaselessly hectored to purchase a $25 discount card I had no interest in, because my savings would cover half the fee I had no intention of paying. After at least five rounds of  "no thanks," with her visibly clucking and sighing at me in front of everyone about it, I silently resolved to click "add to cart" forever after.

In sociological terms, this is what we call the tragedy of the commons. It happens when individuals, acting in their own self-interest, ultimately destroy a shared resource - in this case, their paying customers - in much the same way that farmers let common lands get over-grazed as long as their own cows get there first.

Here is how the math works: Upselling improves a company's short-term bottom line. So some genius at headquarters orders everyone to do it aggressively or else. Then customers like me get hassled and shift permanently to buying elsewhere or online. Which makes them even more desperate.

It is often even worse for the employees than for the customers. Once at a chain jewelry store, for example, I saw a poster on the back of the stockroom door with a truly stupefying list of daily sales goals: close X amount of revenue, upsell Y number of customers, sell Z numbers of service plans, etc. Employees who don't "close" as hard, and are therefore liked better by customers, often lose their jobs or don't get bonuses. The ultimate impact of losing these less-pesky employees - and good customers - of course never gets measured.

Not every company falls victim to this trend. Take Wal-Mart: they offer extended warranties at check-out, but the cost is very reasonable, and at least at my store, they won't hold up the line pestering you if you aren't interested. And of all places, my favorite car dealer. We recently leased a new Honda, and the literature for their add-on services was just that: literature. No pressure and no problem. We'll be back.

Businesses today seem to have fallen into a vicious cycle of bullying people to make one-time sales, while chasing away the loyal long-term customers they need to survive. The solution? Start learning a basic concept from the world of dating: no means no.

Thoughts from a Curaçao cab

Public speaking has taken me a lot of places. This week it took Colleen and I to Curaçao, a Caribbean island off the coast of South America, where I did the opening keynote for the Tree Care Industry Association’s 2012 Winter Management Conference.

Aside from teaching a couple hundred or so of my best friends what to say to a porcupine, I had a rare couple of days free to explore this beautiful island and do what I love best – speak with new people. Often from the inside of a cab. And frankly, I think everyone should look at life the same way a Curaçao cab driver does. Here are some of the things I learned from them this week:

Enjoy the moment. I always ask cab drivers anywhere how their day is going. In Curaçao, a typical answer was a broad smile, a sweep of the hand pointing to the sky, and the response, “Great – the sun is shining!”

When I used to live in Los Angeles, where it was pretty darn sunny most of the time, most people wouldn’t respond to “how are you” by even noticing the sun. Instead, they would talk about their jobs, their bursitis, or their ex-wives. I much prefer the way they think in Curaçao, stopping to savor the moment.

Life is about relationships. One cabbie in particular seemingly stopped every ten seconds in crowded downtown Willemstad to honk and wave at people he knew, and later made a quick stop at its Floating Market to buy Venezuelan grapes the size of plums for his mother (“she’ll be happy in a few minutes.”) How often does that happen in most places? Whether we are cabbies or computer programmers, too many of us (present company included) live in a cocoon instead of connecting with others.

There is always tomorrow. One driver leaned out the window to talk with a colleague who was about to board a ferry, smiling and joking with each other in their native Papiamento language. He then explained that his friend’s cab had been in the shop all week waiting for a part, putting his livelihood on hold, but that he was enjoying the time off and the great weather in the meantime. So how did I react last week when my own “cab” (e.g. my computer) crashed, and my consulting projects were held up? Certainly not by putting myself on “island time.” I’ve still got a lot to learn here.

It isn’t just about us. Whatever you might think about organized religion, a surprising number of Curaçao cabbies – as well as our Dutch tour guide – volunteered that they read the Bible every day, and that it guided their life. We had some fascinating discussions on what Jesus actually said, especially about forgiving people, starting over, and never judging others. I totally respect anyone’s religion or lack thereof, but it was refreshing to listen to so many people who “get” the difference between being righteous and self-righteous.

Now that I am back home, I realize it is time to trade the warmth and relaxation of Curaçao for the speed my life normally runs at. And it is a great life indeed. But I tip my hat to a lot of good people who charmed me this week, and am going to try and carry a little more of the islands inside me from here.