Lucky me!

I've always been one of those amazingly lucky people. Folks used to say that everything I touched turned to gold, and in a sense they were right. I remember when I met my ex, six years ago. At the time, I had nearly $1Mil in stock options, about $50,000 in my checking account, and a great job with Microsoft. I traveled all over the country, and just had fun. She'd never been to the east coast, so I took her on some trips back east: DC, MA, MD. I introduced her to foods she'd never eaten: Thai, Sushi, Ethiopian, Moroccan, etc. Had her experience new things... skiiing, putting down $100 on a single hand of blackjack (she just about had a heart attack when we had to split and double down), motorcycle riding, full body massages, manicures and pedicures. She'd never owned expensive jewelry, so I bought her a nice necklace. She'd never owned expensive clothes, so I bought her a $200 casual dress. No, I wasn't living the high life, but it sure wasn't poverty. I had far too much money on my hands, and not an obligation to be seen.

She once told me that she was the unluckiest person in the world. While everything I touched seemed to always work out, she was destined to fail. Everything she did ended disastrously. I said, "welcome to my world!". She said, quite prophetically, that if I stuck with her my life would fall to pot. She was right, at least for now. But I know it'll all work out, that I'll get back to life at hand if I just keep plugging away.

Look, when I was 13 years old I got my first job in the computer industry. That was before anyone had heard of brands like "Apple" or "Microsoft". So, by the time I was in college, I already had a fairly impressive resume. I remember one year, during my high school years, I returned to my father's home in New York for the summer. I was maybe 16 or 17 at the time. My father told me he wanted me to get a job for the summer. Excitedly, he told me about the cute girl working in the deli down the street... "ad guess what? There's a Help Wanted sign in the window too!"

Yes, cute girls were one thing, but who the heck wants to work in a deli for minimum wage? How about I get a better job, and ask her out, dad? Well, I put together my resume, and hit the pavement. No internet back then, so I grabbed a newspaper every morning, and looked at the help wanted ads. I called each of my father's friends to see if they knew of anything. I even hit up my employer from the previous summer. Nobody was interested in hiring a pimply faced teenager to work in their IS department. Okay, I knew how to type... pretty quickly too, so I even applied with temporary services. I remember going in for an interview at "Kelly Services". Back then, they're ad campaign was all about the "Kelly Girl". I typed over 80wpm, and knew several word processing packages (IBM, Wang and others). But, I guess I didn't fit the "Kelly Girl" image, because they never bothered to find me a temp job.

Dad was getting frustrated, I was getting up early every morning, and was out looking all day. But, to him, the bottom line was I wasn't working. Days turned to weeks, weeks into a month.... then two. Dad moved from encouraging, to nudging, to nagging, to eventually cutting my allowance and telling me the only money I could have was what I earned. Then, finally, I got a job. Just for the last 4 or 5 weeks of summer vacation. Still it was a job, and a real one. I got a job working as "eyes" assisting a blind computer programmer. He was actually a very mean guy, but very smart. On the very first day, he chewed me out for calling a "dash", "slash". He scared me a bit, but I did learn a lot about cobol programming. More, perhaps than I really wanted to know. Dad was really amazed. I made about $10 per hour. At the time, the minimum wage was $3.10. So, I wound up making more in that one month, than I would have all summer. Not to mention how that job helped my resume and knowledge.

By the time I started college, I had about 5 years computer experience, doing everything from programming to systems administration, and even word processing. After high school, I moved to my mother's home in Baltimore. I thought it'd be fun to teach computers... okay, I was 19 with no university education... but I didn't care. I knew a LOT about the topic, much more than the average bear, and I thought it'd be fun to teach. I contacted a bunch of "business schools" in the area and told them I wanted to teach word processing. I didn't have a car... to be honest, I didn't even have a drivers license yet. So I put on my suit, and rode my bicycle 10 miles to the school. I decided to just pop in. The administrator asked if I wanted to speak with someone from admissions. "No thank you, I'd like to speak with the director if I could." She was a bit surprised, but did get the director.

I sat down in the director's office and told her that I was an expert in Word processing with five years experience. I knew things about the IBM and Wang systems that very few people knew. Entertained by this energetic teenager, she said, "Okay, I bite, like what?" I told her some things that the system could do, that wasn't in any manual. I'd learned them by experimenting, writing "macros" and chatting with the technical support engineers over the past few years. It was true, I knew those systems like the back of my hand. I could rattle off all kinds of codes, and explain some tough concepts very easily. I really had her eating out of the palm of my hand in just a few moments. Interestingly, she was looking for an instructor for some evening classes. She told me that she couldn't hire me because they were an accredited school. They'd be risking the accreditation by hiring someone without a teaching degree, or certificate. But still, she wanted me to come back and meet her head instructor.

The head instructor was flabbergasted with what I knew. She started quizzing me on some more technical, or advanced aspects of the system, and I nailed every one. Then she started asking me question that she didn't know the answer to... thing's she'd always wondered... those too, I answered and explained. They hired me, but made me promise to keep the lack of degree or certificate a secret. I was younger than all of my students, and very quirky. The students called me "Mikey", and used to offer me rides home when the weather was rough. I had a ton of fun teaching, and my students really loved me.

During the day, I got a job working as a word processor for the general council of a beverage distributor. Mostly, I just prepared contracts for him, but did prepare some pretty snazzy reports as well. At the time, this small beverage distributor was buying a very large vending machine company. The larger company owned about 60% of the market for beverage machines, vending machines, laundry mats, and even had a division running corporate and school cafeterias. Still, they managed to buy this vending company.

But now, there were two general councils. The one I worked for, and the one who worked for the just purchased company. They were in competition, to impress the new owner. This company wasn't big enough for the two of them. Eventually, one would become THE general counsel, and the other would either be demoted or let go. I really liked my boss... everyone in the office knew how stressed he was about this. He needed to prepare some critical reports and presentations for a meeting with the boss. I had an idea. How about, I use some of that secret knowledge of mine... and pump up the way those reports looked. This was the text-only, black and white days of computing. But, I knew how to add a little color. Of course I needed different color ribbons, and had to swap them out during printing... but I knew how to do it. I knew how to add 3-d borders to create boxes and the like, while the most advanced stuff anyone else did was add some bold and underlined text. Things this machine really wasn't supposed to do. Yes, it was tricky. Sure, it would take far more time than necessary. But it would look pretty sharp, and my boss could use all the help he could get. So I did it... didn't even ask my boss' permission. I just did it.

About an hour after I put them on his desk, he called me in. These look great! How did you do this? Mr. 20 questions... I told him I'd learned a trick or two from the tech guys and reading trade rags, and knew how important this presentation was to him. I opened a pandora's box, though, because he made me and his secretary redo another dozen reports before the meeting to look as good. Well, for him, we did it. It really blew away the CEO, and made the other General Counsel look like a bit of an oaf. The next week, from Washington, DC, I got a call from the other general counsel's secretary. How did you do this, how did you do that.... the word was out. A few weeks later, I got a call from the rival General Counsel. She told me that they were doing some pretty sticky contract negotiations the following week, and needed to be able to incorporate changes to the contract as they negotiated. Not only did she "need" the contracts to look really professional, but they at the end of their marathon negotiation, they wanted everyone to sign it. Remember, even though we had word processing systems back then, it would still take days... sometimes weeks to prepare the final document. They wanted it done during negotiations, and have a final within minutes of completion. Could I do that, she asked? She's pay me double time if I could. Sure, not a problem... but, I don't have a car, so I can't drive to DC. That was the least of her worries.

She said, "I'm sure I can find someone to give you a lift up here". On the day I was to go, mom cooked me a great breakfast and we sat on the front porch waiting for my lift to come. Then a stretch limo, with uniformed driver pulled up. Mom and I looked at each other... The driver walked up to us, introduced himself, and told me he would be driving me to DC. Come on now, I'm a 19 year old quirky kid.... being sent a stretch limo to do some typing??? Okay, this'll be fun. I spent the weekend in DC. To be honest, the work was cake. Every few hours, they'd come in with a single changed word, or deleted paragraph. The rest of the time, I played computer games and goofed off. Still, they all treated me with far too much respect than I really deserved. They put me up in a very nice suite in the Hilton, and bought me some highly over priced, but very yummy meals. In the end, they got their contract changes as they agreed to them, the contract looked great, and the deal was signed. I went back to Baltimore a pretty happy kid, with a bunch of cash in my pocket.

That, though, wasn't the end of that story. Now, the CEO knew my name... hadn't actually seen me, but he knew my name. He called my boss, and asked if he would be willing to transfer me to their headquarters in DC. No, he didn't want to lose me, but he did like me... and knew this was an opportunity for me. The OTHER general counsel; the one from DC, called me directly. Told me that everyone wanted me to transfer to DC, if I would be willing. I told her I needed to think about it a bit more and I'd call her back next week. Realize, I was a kid, I was living with mom and didn't even drive. Where would I live? What would my life be like? I thought about it... I really wanted to go to school. They were near the University of Maryland, College Park. I asked mom, how much money I needed to support myself. Her formula was rent should equal one week's pay. (Try doing that today!) I made some calls, and found out I could get a one bedroom apartment for about $300 per month. But then, since I'll be enrolling in school, I couldn't work more than about 10 hours a week part time.

I called the General Counsel the following week. I told her that I'd love to move up there, but had to change things a bit. I'd need her to cover my college tuition and costs... not a problem, she told me. I could only work part time; about 10 hours per week. She had a few questions about that, but we agreed that I'd only work 10 hours, but she would be changing my schedule according to their workload. Finally, I told her that I'd need to be salaried at $300 per week. Think about that, I was a 19 year old kid, demanding full benefits and $30/per hour to type. This was back when the minimum wage was under $5/hour and $50,000 was a respectable executive salary. Boy was I naive! She told me she'd have to get back to me on it. Later, I told mom about the discussion, and she thought I'd lost my mind. There was no way I'd get even close to that.

She called me back the following Monday... morning... at 8:00 am sharp. You'll never guess. She ACCEPTED my request. The whole nine yards. She was going to pay for my college education, give me medical benefits and pay me $300 per week in exchange for 10 hours of typing. The catch was, I had to start the following Monday morning. I took the week off, found an apartment and moved in. After a few weeks working in DC, the General Counsel had come to depend on me. I called in sick one day, with a cold. She freaked out!!! She said it's because of that damned bike of yours. You need to drive. I explained that I didn't have a license yet, and actually liked riding my bike. She demanded that, if it' raining or snowing, or just too cold, that I take a cab. In fact, she said, if I should even take a cab to school and back, and put it on my expense report. She couldn't do without me for two or three days like that again. Okay... if that's what she wanted, I can do it. Kinda nutty, don't you think? But it's what happened.

I had it good in college. All my friends were scraping to make ends meet, and I had a wad of cash in my pocket all the time. Eventually, it did catch up with the General Counsel, though. Auditors started looking into her expenses, and the expenses within the department. After about three years, my ride ended. They canned her, and the new General Counsel wanted to have no part of my deal. He told me he'd have to lay me off, unless I agreed to work at least 30 hours per week for the same money... and there would be no more cab rides. Still, three years was a pretty good ride. I moved on from there, got another job teaching, and did eventually moved into a job with one of the top management consulting firms in the world... in their word processing department. My life has been like that. My whole life. I had fun, and opportunities seemed to fall at my feet wherever I went.

It's funny, back in 2003 or so, the news was full of articles about Richard Wiseman's study of luck and lucky/unlucky people. I saw a special on one of the TV news magazines, and read a Fast Company article about it. I never did buy his book, The Luck Factor, but I'm sure it's great. Essentially, his theory is that luck is something that is simply seeing and taking opportunities. In one of his experiments, he asked people if they consider themselves lucky or unlucky people. Then he handed them a newspaper, and asked them to count how many pictures there are in the paper. That's it. A few pages in, there was a huge ad. The ad said, "stop looking any further, there are 43 pictures in this paper." On another page, there was a full page ad. It said, if you tell the researcher about this ad, he'll give you £150. Both of these were opportunities, and pretty blatant, yet for the most part, the people who considered themselves unlucky, flipped through the paper counting the pictures. The people who categorized themselves as lucky people, laughed at the first ad, and told the researcher there are 43 pictures here, do they need to go any further. The researcher asked them to keep on counting, and a few pages later they laughed and asked if they're really going to get the money. So, luck is simply noticing and taking opportunities. It's true, "you gotta play to win". How could you ever win the lottery if you don't buy a ticket. And if you don't check the numbers, you'll go about life unaware that you could collect the winnings.

Another interesting thing about his work, is that "lucky" people view situations differently. He gives an example of a car accident. Consider two people who got in similar car accidents. The unlucky person is upset about the accident, and may think this is what life has in store for them. The lucky person may look at the situation, and laugh. They got into an accident, but needed a new car anyway. Besides, they met a really attractive cop or paramedic, and got their phone number. The same event, yet the unlucky person was so preoccupied with the problem, they didn't notice the opportunities right in front of them. The lucky person, saw the positive in it, and looked for the opportunities.

Well, there's nothing truly different between my ex and I. It's just that I always believed that good things would happen, looked for them, and took them. She believed bad things would happen, and that's all she saw. I need to examine why I started adopting her way of thinking, and abandoned my own. How can I teach myself to again look for the good, look for the opportunities and take them?

WhyCali?