Sunday, May 8, 2011

A Guy Named Joe

The Earful – May 2011
By Tim Underwood

www.thewebvoice.com

A small din of laughter rippled through the last of the standing campers; weary, fighting sleep and in varying states of all partied out. More whispers than reverie, more embers than flames - sure signs the day was coming to an end.

Joe was a friend of a friend. Three hours ago, he was just a tall guy with a beer in his hand and the first person I spied after pulling into the campsite after a late start out of town.

Little did I know that what started out as a conversation about one-hit wonders of the 1970s would turn into a valuable lesson in business and accountability.

Joe was a very unassuming, gregarious fellow - the kind of guy you gravitate toward especially in those awkward first moments of joining a conversation already in progress when not knowing most of the participants.

Throughout the night (and into the next morning), Joe and I traded music trivia, laughs, drinks and more trivia.

Near the end of our musical ping-pong match, Joe brought up a couple of songs that he loved, though had been unable to find at his neighborhood record store. Years before iTunes and even at a time when not everything had been released on CD, it wasn't uncommon to come up empty-handed in one's quest for slightly obscure, forgotten songs.

At the time, I'd been in the radio broadcasting business for about 15 years and as such had amassed a fairly impressive collection of albums, 45s, cassettes and CDs. To Joe's delight, I had both of the elusive songs he'd been trying to locate.

Before retiring for the evening, I told Joe that I'd be happy to make him a cassette copy of the songs and drop the tape in the mail upon returning home after the weekend getaway.

When I awoke Monday morning, I dutifully copied the songs, got Joe's address from our mutual friend and popped the package in the mailbox.

Two days later my phone rang. It was Joe.

He was overwhelmed by my gesture and couldn't thank me enough. Aside from his pure enjoyment at hearing those songs again, he said something along the lines of, "you know Tim, most people rarely follow through on the little things they say they'll do, let alone for a total stranger and even more so with beer involved. I really, really appreciate you doing this...it means a lot to me."

Joe's abundant gratitude changed me. It made me realize that as a society we've let our fellow man down one too many times, even with the very simplest of commitments. The delight in his voice instilled within me a wisdom that I'm convinced is not learned even after four years of pursuing a business degree.

I replay this story in my mind time and again whenever I witness failures of commitment.

Now, I'm not talking about breaking marriage vows or flaking out on showing up for your job (although some people do take it to this extreme), I'm merely focusing on those little, offhanded promises we make to one another:

Call you tonight!

I'll definitely get the lawn mowed tomorrow.
Let's grab lunch next week.

It seems as though gestures like these, while no doubt well-intended, are rather unwittingly tossed about as pleasantries in our everyday conversations. We say them because they "sound" nice and we feel good that we're being polite. Trouble is, we're ignoring the deeper value that we should be placing on these words and thus the obligations imbued within them.

To prove my point, I tracked 10 such comments over a one month period a few weeks ago. There was the business that promised a quote within 24 hours, the friend who said we needed to get together and told me they'd e-mail and even the loan officer who'd twice promised a call the next day at 1 o'clock sharp.

Would it surprise you to know that of the 10 assurances made only ONE person followed through?

This lack of accountability in our culture has gotten to the point that some feel the need to include a clause to cover any lapses in their pledges.

Just the other day, I sent my credit union an "after hours" e-mail message requesting they get in touch with me to talk about an error I'd made on my account. After pressing the send button, I was miffed at what appeared on the screen:

Your message was sent to our Phone Branch and we should respond shortly. If you have not received a response from us within two business days, please contact us by phone or visit any of our branches to talk with a representative.


We should respond shortly?

Even more troubling is their deflection of responsibility back to their customers - suggesting we contact them should they not follow through. Personally, I find this appalling. They might as well of worded it as:

We're really busy around here and may forget to check our e-mail correspondence. If we don't do our job, would you be so kind as to get a hold of us to remind us to do it?


This is further proof that humankind have developed an almost unconscious propensity for promising things we don't deliver upon and then diverting the blame or accountability elsewhere. It would be akin to me saying to Joe:

"Hey...sorry about the music I promised. I had a little to drink that night and it was late."

As I once again reflect upon that night with Joe, one thing is abundantly clear: society has lowered the bar of commitment to a degree that those who can merely hop over it will be the ones who succeed in business and who earn the respect of others.

Can we be 100% perfect?

No.

Though when you do fall short despite your best intentions, place the blame squarely where it belongs (likely on yourself), don't make excuses and remedy the oversight as quickly as possible.


And for all those times you do remember to do what you say, be prepared to bask in the infectious exuberance you'll no doubt experience from the recipient of your good word.

Lesson learned from a guy named Joe.