Trust Factor

A terrific quote from Franklin P. Jones recently crossed my path: “Always tell the truth. You may make a hole-in-one when you’re alone on the golf course someday.” As someone who enjoys hitting the links by myself late on summer evenings, I appreciate that perspective. Of course, a bigger personal challenge might be counting that missed two-foot tap-in no one saw.

Trust is something that’s hard to earn – taking years to build – and easy to lose. There was a joke (perhaps inappropriate for younger audiences) that went something like: “I’ve raised four wonderful kids, built three successful companies and given away two million dollars, but one time I get busted with a hooker and…”

There is something interesting about human beings placing themselves in situations that could disrupt a lifetime of goodwill. We taught our children to always behave as if there is a camera on your shoulder… or that whatever you do could be on the front page of tomorrow’s New York Times. That’s true even more so today when everyone around them has a camera and the instant ability to tweet a negative headline. Hopefully, they listened.

The answer isn’t to lock yourself in a room to avoid difficult situations. It’s to think twice – or four times – before playing with fire and believing you’re not going to be burned. As my mother use to say: “Nothing good ever happens after midnight.” So throw some cold water over your ego… and live to play again another day.

Interestingly, I’d never heard of Mr. Franklin P. Jones, so I googled and discovered he may be the only quotable personality I’ve ever come across who doesn’t have a Wikipedia entry. He may have been a Philadelphia reporter born in the first decade of the 20th century or a businessman born in 1887. Someone should properly identify this man who is attributed with such great quotes as:

“Experience is that marvelous thing that enables you to recognize a mistake when you make it again.”

“The trouble with being punctual is that nobody’s there to appreciate it.”

“Honest criticism is hard to take, especially from a relative, a friend, an acquaintance, or a stranger.”

“It’s a strange world of language in which skating on thin ice can get you into hot water.”

“Bravery is being the only one who knows you’re afraid.”

“All women should know how to take care of children. Most of them will have a husband some day.”

“Scratch a dog and you’ll have a permanent job.”

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Clipped Words

At some point during J360 – Media Law (circa 1981), our class learned First Amendment freedom of speech gives you the right to not be arrested for speaking your mind. That’s as long as you don’t put anyone in harm’s way by your words. The old joke was: “You have the right to yell ‘Theater’ in a crowded fire.”

Earlier today NBA commissioner Adam Silver banned Los Angeles Clippers owner Donald Sterling for life for racist comments recorded by his girlfriend. Some talk radio callers questioned how Sterling could be punished so harshly for speaking his mind. Those folks, of course, miss the intent of the law. While the billionaire has every right to say what he feels without fearing arrest, that doesn’t mean there won’t be repercussions.

If I spew hatred in these blog messages, a policeman will not likely come knocking and take me away in handcuffs. There is, however, a strong possibility all of my clients would immediately fire me and media would be camped out on my doorstep… ready for the traditional ‘No Comment’ or ‘My website was hacked” when they ask about my writings.

Sterling didn’t suddenly become a racist overnight. He was exposed and the world learned he’s another in a long list of ugly old white guys. Maybe his fast fall will be a wakeup call to other hate mongers. As Sacramento mayor – and former All-Star Kevin Johnson – said: “I hope that every bigot in this country sees what happened to Mr. Sterling and recognizes that if he can fail, so can you.”

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Legendary Shows

Two of our family’s all-time favorite TV series are ending in the next week. Before the two eldest left for college we watched them together. While we tune in separately now, texts fly fast between us after each episode.

When Kathy and I were newlyweds, we turned on the television one Sunday evening and caught the premiere of “Twin Peaks” on ABC. We were immediately drawn to the quirky David Lynch drama, which became one of the highest rated shows of 1990. It gained a cult following before going up in flames in season two – leaving a wake of disappointed fans.

When I traveled for sports television, college football and basketball games were on Saturdays. After going to dinner with our announcers the night before, I would call home. On September 10, 1993, I flipped on the TV in some long forgotten hotel room, dialed Kathy a few minutes later and realized we were both watching a new show on Fox. Thus we created a tradition of spending Friday nights together – even when apart – as fanatics of “The X Files.”

Our last favorite show to bow out was “Monk,” a dramatic comedy starring Tony Shalhoub as the obsessive-compulsive detective. Like many series that overstay their welcome, the penultimate season was disappointing. However, the writers pulled things together and the ending was perfect.

So it is with mixed emotions that we count the hours until the finales tonight of “Psych” and “How I Met Your Mother” Monday. Sean and Gus delivered many laughs the past eight years, as we searched for hidden pineapples – and sang along with one of TV’s best theme songs. While we would never condone his antics, Neal Patrick Harris’ “Barney Stinson” will be listed among the Greatest TV Characters whenever they take a poll the next 50 years. We’ll miss Ted, Marshall, Lily and Robin… and the nine-season unveiling of the Girl with the Yellow Umbrella.

Thanks for the memories everyone. You were good friends.

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Wonderful Gift

Three days each week when I swim bright and early at the YMCA indoor pool, the same two lifeguards are usually on duty. These ladies have been there for at least the past two years, and while I seldom speak with them, knowing they trade off watching over me from that perch above the pool is comforting… just in case something were to happen. As I leave after my hour in the water, I always wave and smile on my way out the door – a simple thank you for their role in my efforts to stay healthy.

On Valentine’s Day, one of them hurried over when I arrived and handed me a plastic sandwich bag with a note attached. I noticed they did the same for everyone who came that morning. Since I don’t carry ‘cheater’ glasses to the Y, I waited until returning home to read it. Each item listed on the note pertained to the contents in the bag. This gesture brightened my day… and I keep the gift on my desk.

The ‘Survival Kit to Help You Each Day’ (Love Survival Kit) includes:

Toothpick… to remind you to pick everyone’s good qualities including yours

Rubber-band… to remind you to be flexible; things might not always go the way you want, but it can be worked out

Eraser… to remind you everyone makes mistakes; that’s how we learn

Tea Bag… to remind you to take time to relax daily and go over that list of blessings; that is what makes life worth living every minute of every day

Band-Aid… to remind you to heal hurt feelings, yours or someone else’s

Candy-Kiss… to remind you everyone needs a daily hug or compliment

Mint… to remind you that you are worth a mint to your family and others around you

Bubblegum… to remind you to stick with it and you can accomplish anything you desire

Big Heart… to remind you that you are loved greatly and that you too have a huge heart

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Surprise Ending

Last week a client and I were walking across a sky bridge in downtown Houston, when he stopped to speak with a gentleman coming in the other direction. After a few moments, he introduced me. The acquaintance handed me a business card. I fumbled for my wallet, only to discover my supply was empty, so I opened my portfolio where I keep extras and handed him one. The interaction took three minutes and we were all on our way back to work.

As is my habit, I wrote a brief note to the new contact and dropped it in the mail. I then forwarded a copy of our latest e-newsletter. A day later he replied with thanks and shared a link to his biography. Reading it, I learned he previously was an attorney at the same law firm as my oldest brother, so I sent an email asking if they ever met. There were 600 attorneys there and he was in a different city; however, he replied they had indeed crossed paths.

My brother once shared a story about serving as defendant’s counsel for the largest antitrust suit in U.S. history. Sitting in court the morning the judge read the verdict after months of trial, he looked across the aisle and noticed the plaintiff’s attorneys were all big smiles in anticipation that a 40% contingency would make them instant millionaires.

Although the trial was 51 miles from Dallas, my brother said opposing counsel’s wives came to experience the anticipated victory. When the judge announced for his client, the shocked attorneys on the other side sunk in their seats and their spouses made a hasty exit. Of course, as a defendant’s attorney, he received an hourly rate, not the really big bucks.

In January 2001, T. Richard Handler, Jr – born 67 years ago today – looked in the mirror and saw his eyes were yellow. Thinking hepatitis, he went to the hospital. Three days later, doctors told him that a rare form of cancer had invaded his body. He died that June.

At his memorial – which was attended by nearly 1,000 people – I ended my eulogy by reading what he wished to be said at that celebration of a life well lived: “Tell them I was a faithful husband, a loving father, a caring person… and a pretty fair trial attorney.”

 

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