Car Conversation

April 27, 2007

Ferne, my daughter, is 7 and Louis, my son, will be 11 next week. As I drove them to school this morning, here was the conversation:

Ferne: Louis, don't play gameboy in the car, it's going to make you sick.

Louis: Ferne, stop interfering!

Ferne: I am just being nice you know, I don't want you to get sick.

Louis: What do you care?

Ferne: You're my brother.

Louis: Stop caring.

Ferne: I can't, you're my brother.

Louis: Is it in your job description?

Ferne: Yes it is.

End of conversation.

You Don't Have to be Anybody to be a Somebody

Last Wednesday I flew into Denver for a strategy meeting with the publisher of LORE Magazine. I was supposed to leave Friday morning. My departure was scheduled for 11 a.m., arrival at 4:24 p.m. leaving me just enough time to get to my Billy Joel concert scheduled for 8 p.m. After 2 hours on the tarmac, Air Canada announced that the flight was cancelled due to mechanical issues. Apparently one of the engines was not functioning properly and was not safe to fly. Picturing what it might have been like to fly with only one functional engine, I was grateful that there were aircraft standards and someone decided to cancel the flight.

After standing in line for a good two hours, I tried to get an alternative route home, but only passengers with 'Elite' status were permitted that privelege. Even tickets to the Billy Joel concert were not enough of reason to find me a way home. All of the remaining passengers (about 150 of us) were shuttled to a not-so-nearby hotel for the night. We were told to come back in the morning for an 8:30 a.m. flight to Toronto. Thinking that I would avoid the inevitable lineup in the morning, I took the 5 a.m. shuttle bus back to the airport in the morning. I arrived even before the ticket counter opened up and stood in line again. A half an hour later we were all informed that this flight was also cancelled due to maintenance issues and that we would have to spend another night in Denver because there was no alternate route.

The passengers around me went wild, each asking the supervisor about a million questions at a time. Wasn't there an alternate route? When was the next flight out? Why did they not keep their promise? Didn't they understand that this was unacceptable? Some of us had to get home to our families, some had events to attend, and some had important meetings to conduct. I too had my own question ... Was there not a more senior person that could make a decision to get us a plane home???

It was then that some force took over and my mind went into super charge. I got it in my head that I should call the president of Air Canada and ask him to do something to help us. I called my brother and asked him to look up the name and number of the president online. Montie Brewer, President of Air Canada. I had nothing to lose, I felt fearless. I called the number that he gave me. A woman answered. She told me that he was not there. I told her that there was a crises in Denver and I needed his attention. She took my name and number and said that she would pass it along but that the best way to reach him was by email. She gave me his email address and proceeded to explain that if I sent him an email that he would receive it on his Blackberry. Then she said this, "I just want you to know that I have nothing to do with Air Canada, I am just his wife." I just spoke to the wife of the president of Air Canada - how cool is that?

I hung up and sent him an email. In very few words I explained the situation and told him that I needed his attention to this matter. I left my name and my number and waited for something to happen. Within a half an hour I got a call. It was a call from a man called to tell me that I was booked on the next flight to Toronto and I would be leaving at 10:40 a.m. that morning and that I should just proceed to the gate and the boarding pass would be waiting for me. Minutes after that, I received an email reply from Montie. Holy Smokes! I was home by 4:30 p.m. that afternnon.

I missed Billy Joel, but I received the gift of learning exactly what I am capable of when I am fearless. I would say that that was a pretty good tradeoff!

The Relief of Giving

Okay, I'll admit it - I have 2 digital cameras but I still use my old fashioned, film-based camera. And sometimes it takes me a while to get my film developed. Today I had 3 rolls of film developed - one of them was a series of shots taken in November, 2006 at a conference I attended in Florida. It was the Millionaire Mind Conference by T.Harv Eker - where I met this woman who completely changed my perspective on giving.

This is what happened...

There were 1200 people at the conference. It was intense, tiring, exciting, and invigorating all at the same time. They asked us to share our deepest, darkest fears about money. They kept the room cool so that participants would stay alert. Every few hours they gave us a break to grab food and coffee. On one such break I walked past this woman named Chantaye and she stopped me in my tracks to compliment me on the jacket I was wearing. It was long, it was black and white, with zig-zag designs, and had a funky look and feel to it. It was one of my favorites and gave me a hip style. I received compliments every time I wore it - but this time was different.

"I love your jacket" she said.
"Thank you" I replied.
"You know, in the spirit of giving, it would be great if you gave me your jacket, that's a jacket I would love to have."

I think she meant it as a joke but without batting an eyelash, I began to take it off so that she could have it. As I did so, the cold breeze of the air conditioning hit me and I thought about how miserable I would feel without a jacket. Here's what I said:

"I would love to give you my jacket and I will. But it's a little bit cold in here with the air conditioning on. How about if I keep it on for the rest of the day and I bring it with me tomorrow for you to have?"

At this point she thought that I was joking but that evening when I went back to my hotel room, I promptly took the jacket off and put it in a bag so that I would not forget to bring it to her the next day.

I spent all of the following day carrying a plastic bag looking for this woman that I had only seen once before in my life. I looked everywhere. I walked up and down the aisles scanning all 1200 faces. I went to the washrooms - all of them - during the break - I couldn't find her. As the day passed, I grew more and more anxious about not being able to find her. It was the last day of the conference and it would be my only chance to give it to her. The conference was scheduled to end at 5 p.m. and the time was quickly slipping away.

At 4 p.m. I spotted her - I ran across the massive hall to catch up to her. I said, "There you are, I've been looking for you all day!" I was mistaken and embarassed. It wasn't her.

Finally at around 4:30 p.m. she walked by. With tremendous relief I caught up with her and handed her the bag. She was flabbergasted! She couldn't believe that I had brought it to her and kept my promise. For me, there was no question, I had to give it to her. I asked her to try it on and take a picture with me - so that I could remember the incident ... and the jacket!

It was like selling ice to Eskimos!

It was a blast from the past and what made it cool was that not only did he call me, but he made an effort to track me down. It was Tim Rush from Prudential California, a past client of mine. But this wasn't just any client - it was one of those clients whose story of product purchase provided the material with which to create a sales legend.

I was selling a computer based recruiting application. It was called the Real Estate Simulator. It was absolutely leading edge technology at the time, and used video and audio to create an assessment simulation whose job it was to generate recruiting leads for real estate brokerages. Tim worked for one of the leading companies in the real estate industry - listed as one of the top 500 real estate companies in the United States. I wanted to secure this company as a long term client particularly because of its prestigious profile within the industry. If I could get this brokerage, then it would surely open many more opportunities.

I was single minded. I called Tim regularly. He had a great voice. I enjoyed chatting with him - it seemed there was an ease in our conversation. We talked about cooking, and kids, and life in general. We talked about recruiting, about his goals and his challenges. We talked about budget - and he said that if the product produced the results it promised to, price was not an issue.

He was a perfect prospect - qualified and everything. All except for one thing - he didn't own a computer and hadn't the faintest idea how to use one. I couldn't show him the product via webinar and I certainly could not expect him to use it! Miraculously, I sold him the product none the less and worked hard at convincing him to get a computer and start practicing sending emails.

Today he called me - after close to two years, just to ask how I was doing. What a treat! Some clients make it all worth while - he certainly made my day, and I was delighted to hear that he uses his computer all the time now!

A Master Dethroned

I was the master. For the past 2 years I held the title for the best all time April Fools joke ever. It happened a couple of years back when I told my parents that I was getting married to someone they didn't think was a particularly great match for me, one year after an initial 15 year marriage that ended in divorce. They went ballistic (as I expected they would) and proceeded to tell me that this marriage was a huge mistake. They said it was too soon and that my judgement was impaired. I kept the gag going by increasing the drama. I responded by saying that after all I had been through, I couldn't believe that they weren't happy for me and that their negative reaction was taking away all of my joy during this happy occasion. My parents stopped short of booking their flights to Toronto to knock some sense into me. And for that stroke of genius I was crowned master.

Until April 1, 2007.

We were in Montreal visiting family to celebrate Passover. My kids had stayed up relatively late the night before and woke up that day a little sluggish and cranky. After breakfast, my son, Louis went to the washroom to clean up and get ready for the day. I was in the kitchen helping my mother clear the dishes from breakfast when I heard a familiar holler, "Mom, I'm not feeling well."

My maternal instincts kicked in immediately as I rushed to the washroom and opened the door. The smell was enough to knock me over. There he sat wincing; his face vividly displaying severe stomach pain. He said, "Mom, I don't feel well. My stomach is really hurting and I can't find any toilet paper. I need your help." As I approached, he pulled out his arm and displayed his hand covered in a disgusting orange-brown textured goo.

I was taken aback, grabbed his arm desperately searching for some kind of tissue to begin cleaning the mess and said, "Oh my God! What happened?"

He said, "I'm so sorry Mom, I didn't know what to do. My stomach is really hurting. I need your help." My heart went out to him in every way. I could feel his pain and his embarrasment and felt pride that I was the one he could turn to for help in this kind of crises. After all ... that's what mothers are for.

Just then he reached down (with his other hand) and uncovered the chocolate bar wrapper that he had used as evidence of his April Fools trick. I was blown away by his ability to reel me in emotionally and by his crafty execution. They say the acorn does not fall far from the tree. I guess I deserved it - the master had been dethroned!