Wednesday, December 21, 2011

The Ultimatum


I lost a friend today. He didn't die, move away, nor did I have a fight with him. No, he was presented with an ultimatum from his girlfriend that it was she or me. Crazy, eh? What is the matter with women that they are so insecure that they feel threatened by anyone who comes into contact with "their guy"? And what the heck is wrong with the guy that he gives in to this pressure and walks away from a long term friendship with a woman he has known for years?

I will never know for I am not a jealous person. But as a woman with plenty of men friends, this scenario has played out over and over again over the years. So many times that I can almost always predict the end of my friendships with men . . .as the women they meet will often make them choose, me or them. And in some situations the men stand tall and don't deal with the manipulation, and in other cases they fold and say goodbye to me.

The word ultimatum rolls off the tongue like a nice word. But it's not. It's ugly. It means a demand coupled with a threat. And the second definition is extortion. If you really love your partner, do you think threats, demands and extortion sound like the kind of relationship you want to be in?

To you jealous women out there, take a step back and love yourselves. Your guy is already with you. He is with you for a reason and I highly doubt it is the jealous, possessive side of you that he loves, for that side is dark and nasty. But how can you be so insecure that you think someone your guy knew long before you came into the picture could be a threat? If this person and your guy were going to be together, don't you think they already would have? And if they had and found it didn't work, what makes you think that they would go back?? It's not even a logical argument . . then again this isn't about logic, is it? It's about emotions.

As for those emotions, even if you get what you want with the ultimatum this time, what happens the next time and the time after that? Who wants to be in a relationship where everything is negotiated, where everything comes with a catch? Certainly not me. And maybe that is why I have so many men friends for I get them far better than my female counterparts, for the games that women play often make me want to run from my gender in shame.

Emotions can be great. They fill our bodies with endorphins and make us happy and sad. They tangle up in our heads until some days we can't even figure out what is up or down. And having someone in your life requires compromise and love.

But love doesn't come with ultimatums. It doesn't come with strings, rules, or manipulation. For love to be true, it needs to come with trust and respect. And if you have those, there is no need for anything else.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

The Treasure Hunter and the Neurosurgeon




This is a story of the Treasure Hunter and the Neurosurgeon.

I have a theory that people want to believe. It's why the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus work when we are young, and lottery tickets are our way out when we are not. And the stories that people spin are the things that make us laugh and sometimes make us cry. Lucky for me, this story has a little of both.

So while many people, on a night out, upgrade their professions or life interests to be more interesting to others, a couple of friends of mine decided to build a new story line for themselves, eliminating the mundane and banal elements from their lives, and elevating their backgrounds to that of a neurosurgeon and the other, an adventurer who hunts treasure. And their stories interconnected, so it went, that the neurosurgeon funded the treasure hunter's adventures which gave them reason to be together.

Could they pull it off, they wondered? After all- they were headed to an island in the Pacific where they knew no one and where the locals were not quick to engage with visitors. But would people believe them? And if they did, how would it affect the interactions with the people that they met?

I watched the interplay of men and women with these two as they spun their yarns in countless bars and restaurants. The women's eyes would light up when "Doc" would talk about his steady hands or tell some "brain surgery" joke, you know the ones- where the husband asks the brain surgeon to do a little "tweak" while in his wife's head so that the wife would be the perfect "Stepford wife"? These women clearly thought that there might be a future payoff with this guy.

Or the Treasure Hunter who had done enough research on "big dives" so he could talk about "diamonds and rubies as big as baseballs" and list some of the dives he had been on. This guy was so good at his tale, I actually began to believe that he had done all that he claimed. One man was so caught up in the tale, that he said he even recognized the storyteller from a piece on the Discovery Channel, which had us all rolling on the floor!

But the sobering moment for all of us came when one night, a man came up and asked the "Doc" for some medical advice about his girlfriend. Seems she was having numbness in her chest and arm and wanted the "Doc" to give a diagnosis. There was a long pause and then we realized that this little "parlor game" was not so funny. People's lives could be in danger. Thank heaven that the "Doc" was quick on his feet and said he was on vacation but that this guy should get his girlfriend to the hospital for tests as soon as possible.

A few days later, I reflected on the trust that people inherently have for each other. These people wanted my friends to be who they said there were. After all- what could be more exciting than a Treasure Hunter finding bounty at the bottom of the sea or a man who has saved countless lives?

I was a bit surprised that people were so trusting- so willing to believe the tales spun, but why wouldn't they believe? For me it was a lesson. For once I got over the angst of the phoniness, it gave me pause to remember that people are usually good. We come into contact so often through the news media and other programming that showcase human kind for less than it can be, that I had forgotten what human kind CAN be.

So like any good story, the tale of the Treasure Hunter and the Neurosurgeon has a moral. And it goes something like this . . . .Believe in people, and they will believe in you.

I, for one, hope my friends leave their alter egos at home on our next foray out, for I love them both for who they really are. But if they don't, at least I know that there are always lessons to be learned. And hopefully, those lessons won't come with too high a price.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Seat 28B


I had to travel like a layman the other day. I had forgotten the smells, the sounds and the people who actually sit in the back of the planes that I travel on each week. For I am one of the "lucky ones". I have status with a certain airline . . . . .and with that status comes an aisle seat in the front of the plane with more leg room, flight attendants who actually recognize me on frequently traveled routes and the ability to get on the plane early so there is always room for my bag. And the other thing? Most of the people who sit in the front of the plane are "just like me", business people who have a place that they have to be and who use air travel like a bus to get to their next meeting.

Not so much is the case in the back of the plane. Lest I sound like a "travel snob", I want to preface this that years ago when I first started traveling- I was always in the back. But it has been ages since I had a trip like this one and I realized that the segregation that exists in the world is also on a plane . . .it may not be a neighborhood or have a designation, but there are definitely boundaries that should not be crossed.

Nestled between a pilot who was deadheading to LA, and a man who must have taken in a large amount of liquids before boarding the plan, I just knew that for the next four hours, I would have a glimpse of the "real world" as my friend calls it.

As I sat for the duration of the flight with my knees pressed up against the seat in front of me, watching the countless people file by to the bathroom, putting bags that were far too large for the overhead bin over my head, being bumped and jostled when all I wanted to do was sleep, I was reminded that all of these people had somewhere to go, someone to see. So why were they so darn irritating? The people in the front of the plane have the same needs, yet it just seemed so much more obnoxious in the back , like there was less air to breathe and so much less room.

Was it a personal bias that I held? A knowledge that those in the front of the plane knew how to travel and wouldn't try to bring all their worldly possessions on the plane? A resentment that my normal carrier had re booked me on an airline that would get me to my destination but that the experience would suffer? Or had I just become that "travel snob" that my friend purports me to be?

I shifted slightly in my seat to push the sleeping pilot off of my shoulder and pondered this for a moment. And in that instant, the clarity of the situation came to me. For those of us who have to travel for their jobs, a little preferential treatment is not wrong. After all, it is the full priced, refundable ticketed, business traveler who keeps many of these airlines in the air. And if they give us a few perks along the way, so be it, as we all know there is nothing glamorous about traveling for work today.

I poked the sleeping pilot to wake him up as the man in the window seat needed to get up for the third time during this trip. And as his eyes focused on me, I saw the same irritation, the same resentment in his eyes that I felt. And then in a flash it was gone. For he knew, just as I did, that the "back of the plane" while never an enviable position, carries people who deserve the same consideration as those in the front, no matter how much their "travel savvy" was lacking.

It was a long trip. But one that made me appreciate what I have just that much more.

Sunday, October 23, 2011

Fool me once . . . . . .


A woman I had once helped to get a job, came up to me in a bar the other night, throwing her arms around me like a long lost friend.

Not out of the ordinary, right? As I pulled myself away from her, I wondered how I was going to handle the situation. This woman had put me in a vulnerable position by betraying my trust and stealing from the company that I helped to get her employment with, and in doing so raised credibility questions about me. And while 4 years had passed, I was no less angry with her than I had been at the time of the incident.

I am all for helping people if I can. I had met this woman through a mutual friend, and since she was just getting out of school, she needed an entry level position in marketing. She was smart, ambitious and and seemed like the kind of person any organization would be happy to have on their team. Through my network, I was able to get her placed in a entry level position with full benefits and endless possibilities. And that's when the trouble began.

I got a call from my contact with allegations that this woman was charging personal items to her company credit card. A fast way to end employment with any company. I asked if she had been warned (after all- this was her first position, maybe she just didn't know what the protocol was, I naively thought) and she had. So I thought the matter was over. This was not a stupid woman. Surely she would stop.

And then the next month, the same thing happened. My friend didn't want to fire her without letting me know, so I got a call I never thought I'd get. A person I had recommended for a position was dishonest in her business practices. And then I got an even more unexpected call- from the woman I had placed telling me all it was a big misunderstanding and asking if I could help her get another job. Really? She wanted my help again? I couldn't decide if she was stupid or just plain ballsy. But I didn't return her countless calls and emails to find out. I subscribe to the old adage of "Fool me once . . . ."

Misunderstanding or not- to lose your job over stealing from a company is pure stupidity. And not only did it affect her job- it could have indirectly affected mine as well, as I was the person who recommended her for the position. I was disappointed that I had been so duped, angry that she thought she could once again come to me for help, and for a brief moment mad at myself for sticking my neck out to help someone.

In that moment, I was reminded why so many people don't help others as "no good deed goes unpunished" or so the saying goes; why people scurry by with their heads down, when folks in need ask for something; why just doing what you have to do is better than doing what you should do. There's no risk involved in any of those scenarios.

But as I extracted myself from this woman the other night, I was reminded once again about how it feels to help others. And while standing in front of me was an example of why not to help people, dozens of images of people I have helped and who have prospered through the years ran through my mind like an old silent film.

I stood up and left the bar. But not without a backward glance at this woman who reminded me that there are takers and givers out there in the world. I'm just happy to be on the giving side.

Friday, October 21, 2011

Hot? Or not?


I had a flash back to 7th grade recently. You remember those days when a boy poked you and then told you, "you're not a fox"? I remember looking down at one such boy (literally as all boys were shorter than me back then),and wondering just what prompted this mean behavior toward me? After all- did this kid think that he was all that with his skinny chest, short legs and braces?

Well fast forward almost 40 years to a man I know telling me I wasn't his type as I wasn't "hot". "Hot"? Really? A middle aged man who was still using the lines from 7th grade only "hot" is now the new "fox"? The absurdity of it all struck me.

And then I wondered, do some boys ever really grow up?

When do they learn to appreciate what women bring to the table beyond looks? Can they appreciate anything other than the superficial or for some- is that "hot woman" the badge of honor that they need to feel fulfilled; to be the man that other men envy.

I'm reminded of a woman that worked for me once whose "husband to be" made her sign a pre nup that she would never gain more than 10 pounds during their marriage or he would divorce her. "You signed it?" I asked, incredulous that any woman would sign such a thing. "If you signed that- did you ask him to sign one that said if he went bald you'd do the same?" I mean really- what's the difference?

Well, it turns out she signed it but asked for nothing in return. And when she couldn't drop the weight she gained having HIS baby, he divorced her. Hard to write, but harder to watch her raise that kid on her own because she was 20 pounds heavier than her wedding weight. Nice guy, eh?

I am fascinated by this "hot" concept for I know my value, although "hot" isn't a word I would use to describe me. I know I am smart, highly accomplished and have a huge network of friends and acquaintances. I give back to the community through volunteer work, I help prepare young people for the future, I help those in need, am funny and engaging at a cocktail party, and am a woman many men vie to be with because I am all of those things and more. But "hot"? Is that still the ruler that I get judged by all these years later?

Disappointment set in for all of a millisecond that a man I knew could say such a thing to me.

And then my brain kicked back into being and I instantly realized the problem. If "hot" was the only ruler that this guy used, he was measuring the wrong woman. For I don't need a man to define me, let alone by my looks.

As for "hot"? You bet I'm "hot". And in all the ways that matter most.


Sunday, October 9, 2011

The Pilgrimage


There's a new movie out starring Martin Sheen that I saw the other night called "The Way". I probably wouldn't have even gone to see it had I not just been in the Basque Country of France and Spain and spent a few hours of my own hiking along this path.

Called El Camino de Santiago, this trek can start anywhere but usually originates in St. Jean Pied de Port and always culminates at the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, purported to be the place that St. James was interred. While people come to walk "The Way" for a variety of reasons, many say they want "a spiritual adventure to remove themselves from the bustle of modern life"

Well let me tell you, removing yourself from everyday life is not hard on this path. I, for one, had misread the day's itinerary and thought we were going to a vineyard to sample wine. So I was dressed to sip wine and not hike along a stone path that was pretty much out in the middle of nowhere. Imagine my surprise when we began to hike with others dressed in hiking boots, and carrying backpacks with all of their worldly possessions and carrying walking sticks!

We started our journey at one of the hostels that the "pilgrims" stay at during their walk. A quick coffee later and we were on our way. After the first 7 kilometers, I was quite convinced that being a Pilgrim was never going to be my thing. After all- I was still looking for that darn vineyard.

As we came into the second town, another 7 or so kilometers down the path (I use that term loosely for it was merely a collection of 4 or 5 buildings but at least one of them was a tavern where I could get a cold beer)I was busy taking off the various layers I had worn, as the sun had come up and it was quite warm. And then back on the path we went.

About this time, I wasn't the person that you wanted to be walking down this path with. Instead of finding the "inner peace" that so many found on this path, I was beginning to grumble and wonder out loud where the darn vineyard was. It was at this point that I looked around and realized the group I had been with had dispersed leaving me to meditate on this on my own.

And just when I was wondering if I could call a taxi somehow to pick me up in the next "town", an Australian man sidled up beside me. "Hey Mate!", he said in that oh so Australian way. ""Are you walking the entire way?"

"The entire way?", asked I, thinking that this guy had to be blind as I had no back pack, shoes that were better served for sipping wine than hiking and an outfit that was beginning to fade in the mid day heat. "How long will that take?", questioned the naive me.

"Oh you can do it in about 5 weeks", said he as he pulled aside a branch for me to step over.

Five weeks? Out here on this path? Egads! I looked over at him with his cheery face and his oblivion to my plight and answered a definitive, "No. I am just walking to the next town".

"Too bad", said he. "You meet the most interesting people out here."

And with that he was gone. And I was once again alone on the path to contemplate my life, my poor choice of shoes, and where there might just be a vineyard out here in the middle of the Pyrenees.

Saturday, October 8, 2011

Paying it Forward

A young man started his first job today. Remarkable? Probably not. But because I got to play a role in his future I am reminded over and over again how sometimes the smallest gestures have the biggest reward.

I was never a mother. I was never a teacher. I was never a drill Sargent. Yet every Summer I get to be all three as I host my company's new class of college interns that invade my office. As I tell them on that first day, "this is the hardest job you'll ever love". And love it they do.

Over the years I have had probably 60 young people pass through my "boot camp". I laugh and tell my friends that "they come in boys and leave men". But all kidding aside, the change in these young people who take the job to heart is remarkable.

This Summer, I had a special intern, a son of a friend of mine who had somehow gotten through 4 years of college without any practical experience. And as I walked into the conference room on that first day for the interview, my assistant walked by and said, "Be gentle. I think he's going to throw up".

As I closed the door behind me, I turned and saw a young man, the spitting image of his dad but without any of the confidence that his dad possessed. His suit was new, his shirt and tie were scratching his neck and his eyes were searching the room like a wild animal looking for a way out.

But yet there was something there, deep inside, that led me to hire him for the Summer. And it turns out that within this kid was a kind soul, a smart mind and the willingness to do whatever it was going to take to be successful. He not only did the work that was assigned to him, but he also sat through grueling "practice interview" sessions with me critiquing him at every step of the way . . ."Eye contact, stop wiggling, give me your elevator speech" I said, in my best drill Sargent voice.

And all of his practice paid off, for at the end of the Summer, through some networking, he was able to secure employement at one of the top advertising agencies in Chicago, in one of the worst economies.

In the advertising business, we all pay our dues, starting at the bottom rung of the ladder and doing whatever it takes to move up. But every once in awhile, we get a chance to "pay it forward" and give someone a "leg up". Someone took a chance on me over 30 years ago and put me in a job that I was not qualified for, but saw my future potential. Today I get to sit in that chair and help the next generation of marketers get into this business that I love.

Remember that kid of my friend? I think he said it best in his thank you letter to me. He wrote,"I don't know how I can ever repay you for what you have done, but I will start by making the absolute most of my future that you helped to craft". And helping to craft a young person's future is a legacy I am proud to leave behind.

Imagine the world we would live in if everyone "paid it forward". It would be a better place.

Friday, June 17, 2011

Communication Failure?


There was a story on the news the other night about an educator down in Florida who felt that cursive handwriting had outlived it's usefulness and so they were no longer going to teach it in that school given kids need to learn to type and text more. Thank heaven saner minds prevailed and cursive continues to be taught, but it got me thinking to the type of communication we have today. Sure, it's faster. But is it better?

Case in point. Most electronic devices today have an "auto finisher" option that will finish typing a word for you, saving you time. But when that auto finisher inserts the wrong word, the resultant message, while oftentimes funny, totally misses the point and causes the receiver to furrow their brow in bewilderment wondering just what the original message was supposed to be.

Or how about all the acronyms and just plain parts of words that are to save again on having to type it all- but that may be lost to the end user. I get there there may only be 160 characters to say all that you've got to say, but really! When you get a message like, "R U F2T?" (are you free to talk for those of you text challenged out there) my response is always a resounding "Yes" for at least by talking, I won't have to think so hard about what the sender is really trying to say.

Now that's not to say I don't enjoy the brevity of today's communication, but is is a bit of a misnomer to think we are communicating with those right in front of us. Now instead of going out to catch up with friends- we still get together, but invariably are all on the phone texting others rather than connecting with those around us. Look around. If you are in a public place, I'll bet that most people around you are not looking at the world around them, but at the world, their world, that exists is that small phone device in their hand.

I wonder what face to face communication will look like in the future? Will the term "John Hancock" at some point really only refer to the man and not the signature that many people reference when people say, "we need your John Hancock on this". Will cursive writing really go the way of the buggy whip? And are we ready to let machines finish our communication for us, guessing on the word that we may want to use just because we have used it so many times before?

For this writer, I hope the answers to all of these questions are no. While I love the convenience and brevity of today's communication, I love more the English language and the vast array of words that are available to us. Sure, some of the words have more letters that you may want to use in a text, some words will never come up in an "auto finish" option, and some things just can't be said with an acronym. But some thoughts are more important, more necessary than simple words warrant. And that's the beauty of the written word, and ALL the letters they contain.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

In Love for 4 days


Can you feign love? A friend of mine decided to put it to the test. She went away with a man she had been casually dating on his promise that her 4 day "Getaway" could be as romantic as ever, in fact he called it "In love for four days", but once they returned it was "back to normal" in terms of their relationship. Back to normal?, she thought. What would that look like after living as a couple for a long weekend?

People put parameters on so many things in their lives. To work out, or not. To buy something for looks or functionality. To put their "Game face" on or to show emotion. All in an effort to do what? Keep true emotions at bay? And are we better for feigning true emotion or is it a protective measure to protect ourselves from being hurt?

So the long weekend happened. According to her they had an amazing time. They slept late, laughed over beers at a local watering hole, walked holding hands along the beach, ate late dinners over candlelight and made love in front of a crackling fire overlooking the ocean. Anyone who saw them certainly would have thought that there was a relationship; a history between these two. Casual friends? Doubtful.

Yet when they returned from their trip, while she was re thinking the casualness of their relationship as she was sure his feelings had changed, he was back to "normal", sticking staunchly to the idea that they were just "friends" and that no connection, nothing meaningful had transpired.

What is it that makes men and women process the same information in a different way? Could she have mis read the signals so dramatically, or did she really not believe him when he said that the trip would change nothing between them? And how could he be so solicitous, so caring for those 4 days going through all the motions but meaning none of them?

Feigning love or any emotion puts those involved in the relationship at risk. Feelings get hurt, hearts get broken and all those painful childhood crush insecurities redevelop.

But for this ConnectedGirl- for those 4 days my friend was happy, happier than I had seen her in a long time. So is there a value in short term happiness at any price? Or was the price in this case too high a price to pay?