Relentlessly Resourceful, Revolution, and Romance

by Brooke Allen

My good friend, Ray Schmitz, called me up last Wednesday and said he was ready to talk to people publicly about his business that was going to revolutionize real estate brokerage.

I was expecting him to ask me to invest but instead he told me the most romantic story I’ve ever heard. Read this and tell me if you don’t agree.

At lunch yesterday I started by saying, “Ray, I need to tell you that I won’t invest in your business. My savings come from being frugal and good at what I do, and I don’t know how to be a venture capitalist. Paul Graham wrote a wonderful essay on how to lose time and money in which he says people like me risk losing big chunks of savings, not by becoming spendthrifts, but by becoming investors. I hope you understand.”

Ray said, “I know; I read Paul’s stuff.”

“Good,” I said. “Then you’ll appreciate that I have every confidence you will succeed because not only do you have a good idea, as Paul says in another essay, you are relentlessly resourceful.”

Ray said, “Funny you should say that. Let me tell you a story…”

This is what Ray said to me:

My financial advisor is a close friend and one day he calls to refer a client who wants to buy an apartment. “But,” he says, “I am reluctant because she might be, well… difficult.”

I say, “What? Is she 88 and senile?”

“Oh, no,” he says, “Nothing like that. She is smart, successful, single, and very attractive. It’s just that she can be demanding.”

“Nothing to worry about,” I say, “Bring it on.” I call her up and invite her to lunch. I won’t tell you her real name, so let’s call her Sue.

I ask Sue to tell me about herself.

She’s an anesthesiologist. Self employed. Interesting story. Born abroad. Came here on her own. Her English was not good enough to get into the best medical schools, so she didn’t get a great residency either. Then no one wanted to hire her. So she struck out on her own as a freelance anesthesiologist. (I’m thinking to myself, Is that even possible? I have no idea.)

But, all those medical school denials served a purpose, she says. It made her a business woman, and a good one.

“So,” she says, “you’re going to help me buy a property?”

“Yes.” I really want to help her.

“Can I tell you what I want?”

“Please.”

“Something stylish. Something gorgeous.”

That fits, I thought. Better get practical.  ”So, where do you work?”

“All over.”

“Do you have an office?”

Looking down for the first time, “No.”

Bingo. “Do you have a business card? I don’t want to forget to ask.”

Sue said, “I thought we were talking about buying a property.”

“Yes. We are. Can we play a game?”

“A game?” She looked puzzled.

“Yes. It will be fun. Can I explain?”

“Ok.”

I explain, “Here is what I am going to do for you. I am going to pick out five properties to show you tomorrow and…”

Sue interrupts, “This is the game?”

“Yes – and you get to buy one of them.”

“What kind of game is that? That’s no game.”

“Of course it is.” I pause, “This is how to play. Before we meet tomorrow, I am going to write down which of the five properties I think you are going to buy. I will write it on a slip of paper, fold it in half, and put it in this pocket, right here.” I reach across my heart with my right hand to my shirt pocket.

“At any point you can ask to see the piece of paper; before the first apartment, after the fifth, or anywhere in between. Until you see that paper, just look at the properties. Once you look at the paper, which you can look at any time you want, I can’t take it back. When you look, you will know what I think. Ok?”

“What happens if you pick wrong?”

“You don’t buy what I wrote.”

“And if you pick right?”

“You buy it. Pretty cool game, right?”

 She rolls her eyes. I just look at her and wait.

“Ok, don’t forget your paper.”

The next day… lots of smiles, glances over her shoulder. Questions about how many pockets do I have, do I have something up my sleeve, can she check my pockets, etc. So far, so good.

Third stop on the tour.

“What did you write down?”

“I cannot say.”

“Why not?”

“It’s your choice.”

“What is?”

“You know what I mean.”

She smiles. “Oh, I see how you operate.”

I shrug my shoulders.

“Let me see the paper.”

“Here you are.”

She reads it. “How did you… do you have other slips in that pocket?”

“No, want to check?”

“Hmm. You, you, how…”

The on-site sales agent is watching us very keenly. “So what do you say?”

She signed the contract.

“See I told you this would be fun.”

The next day, the on-site agent calls and says she knows Sue because Sue has been looking at apartments for the last several months. “Ray, what did you tell her about our building?”

I told her I had my proprietary methods that I wanted to keep secret. (Later, as it turns out, this would lead to some very favorable press – but that is another story.)

Years later…

RING. RING.

It’s Sue.

“Hi. What’s up?” I ask.

“I need a change. I picked out a new place,” she says.

Without me? I think. Then I say, “Where? What?”

“I want to show you. Let’s go there together on Friday.” She pauses, “… wait, my car will be in the shop. Meet me at the building?”

“Sure; which unit? I’ll set it up.” I arrange for a bottle of wine, a corkscrew, and two glasses to be there when we arrive.

Friday. She sits on the couch. I’m about to open the wine. She’s slightly taken aback.

“I don’t think I want this.”

“No wine?” I ask.

“No. I don’t think I want this apartment.” she says.

“Ok. But have a glass of wine anyway. It’s here for you.”

“No. Really?” She seems puzzled.

“Yes.”

We chat. She says, “I do still want to buy a new place.”

“Ok,” I say, “I think I know something you are really going to like. Come on, how about we go there right now? I’ll call on the way to let them know we’re coming.”

She loves it!

She wants to speak privately. “Can you give me a big discount on your commission?” She wants to negotiate. I know she really wants this condo, so I stand firm.  She frowns. Double frown. A discussion ensues, but it does not go well.

“Bottom line,” she says “you should not make this much money; you should not make more than me in one day, and especially not this easily. I had to study and train for years before I made any money at all.”

I do not make the sale.

I am disappointed, but it got me thinking.

She is right.  

Real estate brokerage should not work this way.

When Ray finished telling me his story, I was flabbergasted, and asked, “Have you ever talked to Sue again?”

“No. I don’t think she is speaking to me.”

“Ray,” I said, “That is the most romantic story I have ever heard.”

“Romantic?”

“Sure. Tell me how you knew exactly what Sue wanted.”

“OK, but I don’t want you telling anyone my proprietary techniques.”

When he was done, I said, “Don’t fear, I won’t tell anyone what you just said because if Sue wants to know, she will have to break silence and ask you.”

“But, I’ll tell you what you did was not a technique,” I continued. “What you did was fall in love with Sue. And you began falling in love with her the instant the guy who referred Sue said she was beautiful and smart and successful and that she could be demanding, which is just another way of saying she knows what she wants. Your heart went out to her because wealthy men and beautiful women who know what they want have the same problem. People will ask you what you want, and then they will let you talk for hours and hours but they don’t listen, because they are not trying to get you, they are thinking about what they can get from you. And when they don’t get what they want from you, they conclude you’re a pain.”

“Go on,” Ray said.

“You let her talk and you listened so you could grok her, and once your two hearts beat as one, as only happens when you are in love, then you knew what she wanted because you only had to listen to your own heart. How many wealthy men have no idea what their trophy wives want for their anniversary because they have never shared the same heart?”

“OK…” Ray was smiling.

“The second time she was pissed because she didn’t understand that you were so skilled, and I’m not even sure you understand either. Every good salesman falls in love with his clients because how else but by being of one heart and mind can you know what the other person feels, thinks, and needs? She is wrong to think you are worth less than her; all she has to do is show up and knock people out, and there are hundreds of medical schools that teach anesthesiology.

“But where do you learn the proper way of falling in love with so many people that you can make a living at it, and where do you learn to deal with the heartache that comes when someone like her dumps you for the wrong reasons?

“Of course, I am not talking about sexual love. But I am talking about romantic love, and Ray, you are a romantic. Your client dumped you and you aren’t pissed. At first, her problem was, ‘Where do I live?’ and you could solve that the next day. The second time, her problem was, ‘Why do I have to pay so much?’ so you thought about it and decided that solving this problem will take a little longer.

“It is immaterial to this story if you ever get to speak to her again, or fall in love again with her, or her problems – or even get a chance to thank her for all she has given you. The thing that makes you a romantic is that you fall in love with solving other people’s problems.”

I stopped talking, and waited. But he said nothing, so I said, “Tell me if I’m wrong.”

He nodded and said, “You may be right.”

—

My mind was racing all the way home from my lunch with Ray. I had to figure out how to write up Ray’s story before I forgot, because I need it for the people who ask me how to succeed in business.

I am occasionally asked to stand in lecture halls packed with young business students eager to learn how they can become rich. I say that I don’t actually know how to become rich, particularly when you are young. My interest in business as an art form came late in life, and although I eventually got an MBA, I wouldn’t wish one on anybody. I’m a writer at heart, with a special interest in writing code. All I did was fall in love with a very hard problem after years of honing the skills needed to do something about it, and everything else was luck.

I recommend to these students that, if they aren’t already pursuing something they are totally passionate about, they:

• Start by learning how to make something that solves other people’s real problems (and if you are not learning where you are, go somewhere else).
• Once master a craft you love, eventually you might fall in love with a problem so hard nobody anywhere has solved it before – not even once.

But beware – hard problems are hard mistresses who will do everything in their power to break your heart; but Tennyson got it right: it is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all.

Most of the students look at me like I’m a nut job, but they humor me because, although they don’t get what I am saying, there is something they want to get from me. Afterward they press their overly-cute business cards in my hand and tell me how they want to show me their latest app for getting more people to buy more junk. I tell them, “I’m sorry, but I’m not an investor.”

One venture capitalist I met in Montreal once told me how he invests, and I think he got it just right. He asks, “What (not who) do you love?” Then he lets them talk and he sees if he can fall in love too. If their hearts start to beat as one, only then will he write a check.

My brain was buzzing all through last night’s dinner with my family, and I knew I had to calm down before I would begin writing. So I turned on PBS and they were playing Bringing Up Baby. It proved to be the second romantic story of the day. It is about a man (Cary Grant) who is in love with a problem (dinosaurs) and that makes him loveable even though he doesn’t know it (but you and Katherine Hepburn do). He falls in love with her, and while you know what is happening to him, he only figures it out in the last 30 seconds.

Yesterday was a perfect day because I am such a sucker for romance.

—

PS. Ray’s current business is the tip of the iceberg. He is relentlessly resourceful and his idea is revolutionary. If you want to understand what he loves, you need to ignore his website and do what he did with me. Go to lunch with him and let him talk. Try to grok him even before trying to get his idea, and do not even think about what you might want from him. (Except that, if you want to know how he knew which apartment Sue wanted, you need to ask him because my lips are sealed.)

And if you want to be a relentlessly resourceful revolutionary like Ray, you need to be a romantic.

by: Adrienne Rodney

It has been said many times that it is better to create your own job than to find one. If you are unsure how to begin, there is a worldwide community that can help you.

In 2011 we attended Startup Weekend three times. Held in just about every metropolitan city in the US and across the globe, Startup Weekend is for entrepreneurs, programmers, designers and other creative types to take an idea and turn it into a business in two-and-a-half days.

Startup Weekend is important because it teaches novices and professionals how to think, act and work like entrepreneurs. Many of the startups turn into actual businesses, with the teams working together far beyond that original weekend.

With free legal advice, free mentors and of course, free food, Startup Weekend gives you a chance to put your passion into practice. So if you think you have a good idea, don’t keep it a secret. Participate in a Startup Weekend and watch your ideas flourish.

***

After everyone’s positive response to our Jobsville story, Brooke took the idea all the way to Mountain View, CA for the Mega Startup Weekend, where Brooke and his team worked on making Jobsville a reality.

We recently interviewed Frank Denbow, lead organizer for Startup Weekend NYC and a major force behind Mega Startup Weekend. Check out Startup Weekend in action and hear what he has to say about the events by watching the video above.

Should caring be part of every job description?

by: Brooke Allen

About a decade ago someone in accounting, or personnel, or wherever, asked me for job titles.

I said, “We don’t have job titles in our group.”

She went away.

Soon she was back saying that a new policy required that we have job titles, and that I had to give them some.

I said, “I can’t think of any.”

She said, “Make something up.”

I said, “OK, we’re all Senior Executive Vice Presidents.”

She went away.

She was back the following day saying, “Those titles won’t do. Nobody in your group is a vice president, senior, executive, or otherwise. Besides, we need functional titles.”

“As opposed to bullshit ones?” I asked.

She didn’t laugh but waited around until I came up with some stuff… Group Head (me), Analyst, Programmer, Trader … make that Senior Trader (never mind that we don’t have any junior ones)… I don’t remember and don’t care, although I can now find out if need be by asking everyone in my group for their new business cards.

Since our first day in the mid-1990′s, we have had a daily checklist, similar to what pilots find in airplane cockpits and janitors find on bathroom walls: do this by 8:15, start that computer before this one, run that program, file this report by 5:00, etc. The checklist gets updated as needed and has gone from perhaps 15 items to over 50 in 16 years.

A while ago our organization was restructured to come under a German parent, which meant that now we became subject to new regulators and rules. Auditors from Frankfurt arrived and were very impressed at the length and detail of our check-list, and apparently it got a glowing stamp of approval.

But they were back, and with a frown, said, “We can’t find your job descriptions.”

I said, “That’s because we don’t have any.”

“That won’t do; how can you run a business like that?”

I pointed out that we’d been doing fine for over a decade, but they would have none of it, and demanded something pronto.

I said, “We all do what needs to be done.”

They were not amused. They gave me a sample of what they wanted that looked like a checklist for somebody else. I complained to someone in compliance, and she explained that we must now comply with new German risk rules that require detailed job descriptions, among other things.

So we complied and divided up the checklist, assigning things by who does what. They were satisfied and went away.

However, the German regulators, (who are “principles based,” rather than “rules based” as are the regulators in the USA), our management, and everyone in our group all know that compliance with rules isn’t enough, and faithfully following a task list alone isn’t really doing your job.

We have a mission statement specific to our group which states, “Our goal as a group is to act such that every person associated with our endeavor will feel that at the end of the day they were better for it.”

We have a detailed document itemizing who exactly those people are, and we update it when stakeholders change. We document our principles and values, and update them too, although infrequently, since they seldom change. We have procedure manuals that remind us of how to do things, policy manuals that tell us what and why, and checklists that help us remember when to do things, and document when we forget.

But a job description is not doing its job if it only lists tasks better itemized in a checklist.

In essence, we all have only one job description, and that is “to care.”

All jobs and their descriptions must begin with an understanding of what it means to care, about what, and for whom.

Learning to be a hero is more important than you might think.

Article by Brooke Allen, Interview by Adrienne Rodney and Brooke Allen.

Last summer we interviewed Dr. Phillip Zimbardo about his Heroic Imagination Project.

Before we met Dr. Phillip Zimbardo it wasn’t clear what a hero is or how frequently we all are presented with opportunities to be one. Zimbardo defines heroes as people who put themselves at risk for the benefit of others. Altruism is “heroism lite” – helping others without expectation of gain. When most people say someone is a “hero” they really mean “role model.” Sports figures, celebrities, or business leaders may or may not be good role models, but few are well known for heroism.

Phil Zimbardo is perhaps the greatest living psychologist. He has been the president of the American Psychological Association, hosted the 26 episode PBS series titled Discovering Psychology, and authored many books, including a favorite, The Lucifer Effect: Understanding How Good People Turn Evil. But Phil is most famous for the Stanford Prison Study conducted 40 years ago.

Please, take a few minutes to watch our interview and then answer a few questions.

____

Can you imagine being a hero, or even wanting to be one? 

Before you answer, can you imagine the following conversations?

Conversation #1: Saleswoman, “May I tell you about our product?”

Prospect, “Possibly. But first, would you ever lie to a customer?”

Saleswoman, “Let’s just say that I will never let my children starve.”

Prospect, “Are you married? Does your husband have a job?”

Saleswoman, “Yes and Yes.”

Prospect, “Sometimes it feels like there are more unemployed unwed mothers feeding their children than there are honest salespeople.”

Saleswoman, “Whatever. Now, may I tell you about my product?”

Prospect, “No.”

Conversation #2: Hiring manager, “I have lots of unemployed friends. Would you mind if I introduced one of them to fill the vacancy you’ll leave behind?”

Job Candidate, “I would not recommend anyone do my job because my job requires I do unethical things.”

Hiring manager, “Then I can’t hire you because you are saying you are the most unethical person in the world. You do things so unethical you would not recommend anyone else on the planet do them other than you. You think it is ok to be unethical as long as it isn’t your idea.”

Conversation #3: College Career Officer, “Last year I told our president that for three years every graduate from one of our departments has been unable to get a job in their field, and I feel an obligation to disclose this fact to our students. He ordered me to stop keeping track and never disclose this fact because, as he said, ‘What am I going to do with the department? Don’t be selfish; think of your colleagues.’”

Friend, “What did you do?”

Career Officer, “I did what he said. What else could I do? I’m not selfish.”

Conversation #4. Job Candidate, “After 21 years of competent and loyal service I uncovered some shenanigans in one of our divisions. My boss and his boss didn’t seem to care so, after exhausting all internal options I quit and went to the regulators who nipped it in the bud. Although it cost me and two layers of management our jobs, I saved the shareholders boatloads of money. Now I’d like to do the same thing for your shareholders.”

Hiring Manager, “When can you start?”

____

I (Brooke) can imagine conversations #1 through #3 because I’ve personally participated in similar ones.

I can imagine the fourth only because I have an active imagination.

Phil Zimbardo believes we all need to imagine having conversations like #4 and we should never find ourselves involved with the first three.

He started his Heroic Imagination Project in San Francisco where he is raising money to sponsor heroism research and to educate people on how to be everyday heroes. He told us that, while you might benefit from a heroic act, it cannot be your motivation.

Not only do we need to strive to do the right thing every day, we must “Learn to love the whistle blower.” He should know. He had a whistleblower for his 1971 experiment. A recently minted doctorate in psychology, Christina Maslach was appalled at the change in Phil’s personality and behavior while he was conducting his prison study. She called him on it. They married the following year.

Do you want to be a hero?

Don’t your customers, employees, employers, students, shareholders, loved ones, and future generations need you to at least try?

You can learn more about what it means to be a hero by watching our interview with Dr. Zimbardo and then visiting The Heroic Imagination Project website to learn how to imagine being one and to help the cause.

And, while you’re here, please post a comment.

We are particularly interested in a story about a hero in your life, or a situation where you wish there was one on hand.

Book Reviews by David Anderson and Eric LaRue

Tommy Spaulding has built a successful career by being a leader and teaching others to be leaders. In his book, It’s Not Just Who You Know, Spaulding acknowledges that his success is greatly due to living the credo of Dale Carnegie’s How To Win Friends and Influence People. However, It’s Not Just Who You Know does more than expand or update Carnegie’s classic. Spaulding has re-imagined Carnegie’s ideas and infused them with his own spirit. This is a book about love.

Spaulding starts off with his own story of being a good kid who had trouble succeeding in school because of what would eventually be diagnosed as dyslexia. Yet he was the youngest Eagle Scout in his town, the captain of his high school football team and the president of his senior class.

Young Tommy was also fortunate to have chosen his parents well. Tommy Spaulding, Sr. told him three profound things: First, living with goodness in your heart counts more than good grades. Second, you have an obligation to make a contribution to this country because Democracy isn’t free. Third, the people who are making top grades in your school are going to work for you someday.

Relationships move Upward

Spaulding talks about the different levels of relationships. These start on the first floor where the conversation never gets past news, sports and weather. The top floor is the fifth, or Penthouse, where you don’t just get a Christmas card – you get invited to Christmas dinner.

This book also shows you how to get to the Penthouse and what to do once you arrive. Spaulding advises against being a chirping bird – someone who is also asking for something out of a relationship. He goes further and challenges us to find unique ways to keep in touch and connected with our friends, colleagues, business partners, etc. By making his business life personal, Spaulding is a friend first and always looking for ways to give to others without a thought of what should be given in return.

Spaulding calls this way of thinking a Return on Relationship (ROR), a twist on the financial Return on Investment (ROI). He isn’t some guy who charmed his way into the corner office; he firmly believes that his ROR delivers a better ROI.

When I signed on to read and review this book I did it with an eye toward how it might help me, but I want to conclude with an attempt to help you.

Over the past few months I have been using these methods. I have hand-written a number of notes in situations where previously I would have called or sent a quick email. The response has been remarkable and universally positive. I even wrote a letter to the IRS, because I owed more than I could pay this year, and soon after I got a phone call from a charming woman who works for them. She is by far the nicest person I have ever spoken to at any government agency. We worked out a deal in a friendly manner and now I have a friend at the IRS.

It’s Not Just Who You Know has got the goods. Read it, and if you are bold enough, live it. I have begun that journey and my Return on Relationship has been incredible.

———–

Review by: Eric LaRue

Most people will come to read It’s Not Just Who You Know in the same way they read How to Win Friends and Influence People. However, through personal experience and illustration, Tommy Spaulding manages to show why the book which so influenced him (How to Win Friends) in his youth, while revolutionary when first written in 1937, is no longer adequate in the 21st century.

Told largely through narrative from the author’s own life, Spaulding begins the second section with an analysis of the “Five Floors of Relationships,” with the most casual interactions taking place on the first floor, such as the interactions most of us have with the grocery store clerk, then moving up through our regular business transactions and finally up to the fifth floor relationships with our family and closest friends. This section will do wonders for readers at their next networking event. If Dale Carnegie teaches the importance of focusing on the interests of one’s negotiating partner, Spaulding teaches in these chapters how to demonstrate it.

However, the real value of the book comes in Sections 3 and 4, where Spaulding teaches how to move a business relationship into an intimate one, and how to leverage that relationship for everyone’s benefit. Section 3 teaches the reader how to build a relationship of trust to the point where you want that person to succeed, moving beyond the simple quid pro quo relationship. He shares examples of his most trusted friendships that’s he developed, from a bartender to old clients. Section 4 talks about building a simple business practice and moving into something “bigger than you” – a powerful force for good in the world, aligning those fifth floor relationships into a vision that results in a powerful movement.

It’s Not Just Who You Know is the perfect book for those who want to increase their business. It’s the perfect book for those who want to have more fulfilling relationships with the people they work with. It’s the perfect book for those who want to grow something bigger than themselves. And it’s the perfect book for the No Shortage of Work community.

HOW AMERICA CAN LEVEL-UP SKILLS AND LAND GOOD JOBS.

Article and Video Interview by Brooke Allen

I’ve often wondered what can be done to make it fun to learn new skills and hunt for a job. Surely if FarmVille can make farming fun, and Call of Duty can make war fun, isn’t it possible for the people who produce those games to apply what they know to making the process of finding and qualifying for a job just a little bit more effective and enjoyable?

As it turns out, the answer is: ABSOLUTELY.

Recently I discussed this very question with Gabe Zichermann, an expert in “gamification,” author of Game Based Marketing, and creator of the Gamification Blog.

Gabe explained that the job search is usually a long process that has many moving parts including the concept of career mastery. He says this is the kind of thing that is well suited to modern multi-player social games.

In order to take someone through the “player’s journey,” game designers break complex processes into their component pieces and by providing guidance and rewards along the way. As missions are completed and skills are “leveled-up,” the player can look back later to see that they have accomplished something amazing – and had fun along the way.

After hearing his fascinating advice on how you can make your own job search more fun for you and for those who are helping you, I asked Gabe if this idea has ever been commercialized.

After all, Zynga has figured out how to get 1% of the world’s population to play Farmville, growing crops that nobody can eat. You join for free through Facebook and begin building your farm. Then you invite friends to start neighboring farms, and you interact daily, by visiting each other and complete specialized tasks in order to receive rewards and “farm coins” which you can use to buy gifts for your friends.

Gabe has famously highlighted Farmville’s social aspect by calling it “poke with cows.”

Wouldn’t it be great if Zynga created a “JobsVille” as “poke with resumes” – a place where you and your friends can help each other level-up your real-world connections and skills, land good jobs, and put real food on the table? What’s in it for Zynga? After all, if Zynga goes public, they will have shareholders to feed. As Gabe suggested in the interview, if people help you with editing a resume, making an introduction, or practicing an interview, it is entirely appropriate you reward them, perhaps with a real (or virtual) gifts bought through the game platform.

Better yet, why not help a charity in the name of the person who helped you?

Zynga has already thought of this; they handle the distribution of charitable contributions from their users through their non-profit Zynga.org.

Gabe told me he has not heard of a single person who has made a massively multi-player on-line social game out of the job hunt, but that it is ripe for development.

by Steve Amoia for No Shortage of Work

Playing baseball was Joe DiMaggio’s first real job as an adult. He had worked at Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco with his father, and sold newspapers as a boy. Neither job held much appeal to him.

Few first jobs in life could have the impact of this one. To be a first generation Italian-American teenager with a job at the ballpark. To watch the first American sports icon, Joe DiMaggio, in a way that few could imagine.

An American Cultural Icon

If you ever played baseball, the mystical Joe DiMaggio was as familiar as the crack of the bat, or the thud of the ball hitting the back of the catcher’s mitt. Just like cold beer, hot dogs, and the seventh inning stretch, Joe DiMaggio was an integral part of American baseball tradition and lore.

Giuseppe Paolo DiMaggio was born in Martinez, California, on Nov. 25, 1920, and died March 08, 1999 in Hollywood, Florida. He was the eighth of nine children born to Giuseppe and Rosalia, who were immigrants from the Sicilian island of Isola della Femmina (Women’s Island). His father was a fisherman; however, young Joe did not like the rigors of Fisherman’s Wharf. He preferred to play on the sandlots of North Beach, which was and is an Italian neighborhood of San Francisco. His father thought that Joe was lazy, and hoped that the allure of baseball would soon leave his son. Young Joe was not an avid student, and at the age of 16, he dropped out of Galileo High School,
and worked various laborer jobs for the next few years.

From North Beach to the Bronx

He played semi-professional baseball for the San Francisco Seals, and after hitting in 61 consecutive games, his star rose in the direction of the New York Yankees. He was scouted and later signed by the Bronx Bombers. His career with New York spanned from 1936 to 1951, and included a three year break during World War II. Two of his brothers, Dominic and Vincent, also played professional baseball, respectively. Interestingly, all three played the position of center field.

In an era without television and mass communications, DiMaggio became an American cultural icon. Mostly due to radio broadcasts, magazines and newspapers. To Italian-Americans, and other new immigrants, he represented much more than the perfect swing, the graceful strides, his devotion to Marilyn Monroe, or “The Streak” (he hit safely in 56 straight games in 1941) that would make him immortal. Mr. DiMaggio exemplified that a first generation American could assimilate and become a reference point in the nation’s most popular game of baseball. This sport has the same popularity in the United States as soccer does in the rest of the world.

Rare Childhood Opportunity

My father, Michael Amoia, had a rare opportunity as a child. His family lived near Griffith Stadium, which was at that time the home of the Washington Redskins and Senators. In 1965, the stadium was torn down, and now is the site of the Howard University Hospital. My father was very athletic, and competed in baseball and football for his high school, McKinley Technical. Somehow, and it remains a family mystery, my father obtained a job working for both the Redskins and Senators. My grandfather was not a sportsman, and one can imagine that few adolescents would have been brave enough to walk into the administrative offices of Griffith Stadium to ask for a job.

The ironic facet of this story was that few of his old friends knew about this part of his life. When I mentioned the experience during his eulogy, some of his friends approached me later with seeming disbelief. It was a memory from my father’s life that was very private, but one that always fascinated me.

During his life, he would mention DiMaggio on occasion. I had an older cousin, Robert, who had heard the story in more detail. My father worked in the clubhouse for the Redskins, and was a batboy for the Washington Senators, where his assignment was the visitor’s dugout and clubhouse. He handed Joe DiMaggio his bat on several occasions. My father was able to observe Mr. DiMaggio both on and off the field, and the experience was imbued upon his memory.

Lessons and Memories for a Lifetime

First jobs teach us lessons for a lifetime. In my father’s case, they provided extremely rare memories. He witnessed how a famous athlete conducted himself on and off the baseball diamond. Athletes are not role models nor should be. But my father saw how a quiet, shy man from San Francisco handled intense pressure. He made the effort to remember the name of a young Italian kid called Mike. That alone might have been the most precious memory.

Personal Reflections by Michael Amoia

Dad, what was he like?

“He was a very quiet and private man. In the clubhouse, he didn’t say much, and the other players left him alone. But you knew he was their leader. He had custom-made suits, and always looked sharp. He even looked good in those baggy uniforms they wore back then. He used to drink coffee and smoke Chesterfields between innings, and a few times we had to run out to by him smokes.

You were told by the Senators to treat all the players the same, but with Mr. DiMaggio, it was a different story. After the games, he used to sign balls for me. I sold them outside the stadium for $1. That was a lot of money in those days. That’s how we were paid. We had to ask the players to sign balls or broken bats.”

What made him great?

“Instincts. He always seemed to do the right thing. You never saw him out of position in the outfield. He was quick as a cat. Strong arm. Didn’t miss cutoff men. At bat, you never saw a smoother or quicker swing. Only Ted Williams was a better hitter. He could hit for power and for a high average. He was very graceful for a big man, and ran the bases very well. He played each inning as if it were his last. I never saw him get angry.”

Few of us could have such a childhood memory. It is said that youth is wasted on the young; however, in my father’s case, I would beg to differ. A job that didn’t pay him a salary provided him with a lifetime of memories.

“Do the job in the interview.” Joe DiMaggio did it every day.

Do you have an interesting story about your first job? Please share it with us.

“Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio?

Our nation turns its lonely eyes to you.”

— Paul Simon, “Mrs. Robinson.”

Steve Amoia is a freelance writer, editor, and translator from Washington, D.C. He focuses on alternative health, career-related themes, historical figures, Italian and international soccer, and martial arts. He can be contacted at info@sanstefano.com and his writing portfolio can be found at www.sanstefano.com.

How my grandparents thrived during the 1930′s.

by: Brooke Allen

The Great Depression was very good to my Grandparents, and it wasn’t a matter of luck so much as the approach they took to their circumstances. What they did, you can do.

In the mid 1920′s they met on a date in New York City and decided to marry within a week. Granddad Tom was assigned to Havana to start a bureau for the United Press International; he and Anne married in Key West on the way to Cuba.

When he returned near the end of the decade he was handed a 40% pay cut, even though the cost of living was higher in New York City than in Cuba.

If that wasn’t bad enough, in October of 1929, the Stock Market crashed and the economy began a long slide into what became the Great Depression. Granddad survived multiple rounds of layoffs by accepting further pay cuts.

Grandmother Anne realized that they couldn’t afford their current rent, so she found a bank that would rent to them the mansion of a bankrupt stockbroker for less money. To help care for the children, she found a lovely couple at the unemployment office. The wife was a nurse and her husband was a handyman. They exchanged room and board for childcare and yard work.

Then Anne took a job as a receptionist with a developer who was building houses on the farm next to their rented home in White Plains. Soon she was managing four salesmen. She received 25 percent of the salesmen’s commission on every home sold.

Grandmother convinced the developer to build at cost a home for them in exchange for using it as a show model. She became a stellar saleswoman in her own right. Before long, her commissions had completely covered the construction costs, and the home was theirs outright.

Granddad wrote to a friend that the Great Depression had been unbelievably good to them. Before the Crash they had had high hopes, but owning a house ‘free and clear’ in just a few years was inconceivable. Where could they have found a trained nurse and groundskeeper simply by letting them live in a spare bedroom and join them for meals? Freed of the burden of paying bills, the young couple soon saved enough money working odd-jobs to buy a gas station and start their own business. Because most of his coworkers had either been laid off (or quit rather than take a pay cut), Granddad had no competition as senior positions became available. His career took off.

Here are some of the lessons I have learned from my Grandparents:

Grab the bull by the horns. They never tried to deny the facts of a bad situation.

Get lucky by planning for the worst. Because they never expected things to get better, they worked very hard in the present to survive the worst-case future scenario. Invariably things worked out better than expected so their less industrious friends considered them very lucky.

Find the opportunity, not the excuse. I never once heard my grandparents explain why they were unable to do something. Instead, it seemed they were always asking, “What just got better?” In this story, the things that got better included: rents declined, it became easier to advance simply by being loyal, a soft housing market meant the builder would make a deal, and the cost of childcare dropped.

Keep working. In 1993 I returned from a high paying job in Japan to face an economy in terrible recession. I accepted a consulting position that paid about 80% less than what I’d made the prior year, and I am glad that I did because I maintained discipline and I improved my technical skills. It took a few years, but eventually I eclipsed my prior successes, and I owe it to the skills I honed as a consultant.

Adjust your price. During the first year of the Great Depression prices declined by 27%, which meant that you could take a 25% pay cut and have a real raise in purchasing-power terms. But the real question is, What is the price for what you can do? In 1993 there was no market in New York for what I had done in Tokyo in 1992, so I accepted what the market was willing to pay for what I could do.

Learn to be a good salesman. My grandmother learned a lot from Dale Carnegie, and then she sold him a property in White Plains. She knew that done properly, selling is an unselfish act that involves motivating others to do what is in their best interests, not just your own.

Share; don’t do it alone. By sharing her home and food with a struggling young couple, my grandmother was free to take a  job and everyone came out ahead.

Survival is a better strategy than winning. In natural selection, the species that survive are winners, not the ones who hog all the resources to themselves. I will talk more about this in a subsequent piece.

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Did you learn something from someone who went through the Great Depression?

Post a comment and tell us.

by: Joan Ramirez

So many people talk about what is wrong with teaching today. I am going to tell you what is right. Last year, I completed my student teaching in a wonderful elementary school in New York City with several exceptional special education students in the third grade. One in particular has a stuttering problem and felt uncomfortable every time he had to talk in front of the class. In addition, he has test phobia in math. He tried several times to take a subtraction/addition test and quit after he was only half way through. On the fourth try, I told him that his dream of becoming a policeman will never come true if he can’t do math operations. He thought about it and finished the day. On the fifth try, he started the test, got frustrated, and was ready to quit–partly because he was so upset about his stuttering during response time earlier in the day. I told him to breathe deeply, think positive, and focus. He kept going. When he handed in his paper, he turned to me and said, “I tried harder this time, Mrs. Ramirez. I didn’t quit.”

That made my day. I helped a child to learn. A precious gift.

On another day, I worked with a boy who wears an FM device and is very self-conscious because of same. In addition, he is small in size for his age and self-conscious in gym. When I worked with him on math problems, he told me that he likes to learn but wants to be like everyone else. I told him that each of us has special gifts to offer, and we are all special in our own way. Little by little, I drew him out of his shell. Before long, we were partners on a math team and competed against two other kids. After a while, he picked someone his own age to be his teammate. However, I told him that I would always be there if he needed me. Again, it was great to see a child flourish in learning through positive support.

My third encounter was a recent assignment in a school in New Jersey with a middle grade young girl who told me of her desire to be a songwriter. With limited English, she composed a song that spoke of her feelings on life in middle grade. She also told me that she has composed many other songs. I told her to keep on writing. Before the end of the day, she sang a little of the song to me. As I was about to take the children to their parents, she handed me a card. When I arrived home, I read the message: “Dear Mrs. Ramirez, Thank you for listening to me. You are a patient and great teacher. Someday I hope to sing you my finished work.”  I gave her my email and encouraged her to keep on going.

These are but a few of the wonderful encounters that I have had as a teacher with creative minds yearning to achieve.

In the fall, I hope to have my own class to nurture and encourage and share the successes that I’ve had in my professional life. To teach, as the saying goes, truly does touch and change, for the better, another life.

Story by: Adrienne Rodney, Interview by: Brooke Allen

Robin Dunbar, British anthropologist and evolutionary psychologist at Oxford, says you can have at most 150 sensible, reciprocated relationships. This is known as the Dunbar Number, and it is discussed in his book, How Many Friends Does One Person Need?: Dunbar’s Number and Other Evolutionary Quirks.

Our most important relationships are with our intimate friends and family – the people we love, rely on and support when times are tough. But most of the people we know make up the outer layers of our social network – our coworkers, neighbors and friends of friends, and these outer layer relationships are more vital than we think. “They’re the people who help you out when things are down by finding you jobs or letting you know there’s a job going where they work,” Dunbar says. “That’s a source of information for you.”

Yet our social well-being depends on the strength of our most intimate relationships. “Those who have a bigger social network have, on average, less intimacy with each of the members,” Dunbar says. “If your inner core relationships are going to be important to you…you do best by focusing your attention on those closest to you.”

Dunbar spoke with Brooke Allen about his research on relationships and the roles they play in our lives. You can learn more about Dunbar’s number and the layers of relationships by listening to Brooke and Robin’s conversation below.

And read the transcript to the conversationhere.