Some people we know a little, some we know a lot. Some we think we know but don’t. Seldom do people know us as well as we might think we know them.
An old Washington hand told me, “it’s all about relationships. You have to know a lot of people.” He went on to say, “you’ll meet a lot of people who will want to impress you with who they know.” When they say, “of course I know Senator Foghorn”, you should say, “yes, but does he know you.” I’ve used this technique and it often results in much squirming and dissembling.
In business we hear people talk about their bulging rolodex…which implies they can call any of the people in their file. As in Washington, another standard is necessary. I call it the “but will he return your call” standard. I guess today, it’s also “will he return your email (text or tweet)” standard as well.
In my almost 48 years in the business world (and in life its own self), I’ve met many well known personalities, some of whom were even as well known as they thought they were. In most cases, they knew me as well. Sometimes, however, if I were honest, I’d admit that while I might have known them (often in a brief encounter), they didn’t know me from Adam’s house cat. Nevertheless, I still count them as being among the famous or near famous people that I know or have known. As I proceed, I’ll indicate those who would not admit to knowing me, and most likely, would return neither my phone call nor email, and some who may even cross the street if they see me coming.
I’ve parsed my personal list of celebs into four categories. Politics, Business, Sports, Arts. I should probably have a list for a special kind of person that crosses over into more than one category. People like Ross Perot, Roger Staubach and Jack Kemp come to mind, but that might get too confusing. I’ve been advised by more than one advisor to only say nice things, or at least not to say anything about anyone that would get me sued, arrested, or beaten up. So what I say about these people you may assume to be, for the most part, prudently true.
Politics
This is a surprisingly large category for me, which goes to show, I suppose, that one seeking elective office may have pretty low standards in who they will come to know. My list includes several Heads of State: Margaret Thatcher, Ronald Reagan, Lee Kwan Yew, George W. Bush, Li Peng, and Jimmy Carter. I’m not sure where to put him, but I did shake hands (which one is not supposed to do under any circumstance) and exchange pleasantries with Prince Charles on two occasions, as well as assorted Governors, Senators, Congressmen, Mayors and political pretenders of all stripes, but I won’t bore you with a list of names. I’ve also known quite well at least two people, Ross Perot and Jack Kemp, who ran for, but thankfully did not win, the presidency. Ross fits in numerous categories so I’ll not say any more about him here except to say that he heads the list in the Defies Categorization group.
My interaction with Margaret Thatcher and Li Peng were the most memorable. Margaret might well remember my name if only because her otherwise unemployable son was working for me at the time, but probably wouldn’t add a comment on my Face Book page today. Li Peng (who was then the Premier of the People’s Republic of China would not know me from the aforementioned Adam’s house cat….but I knew him if only for a brief moment.
Mrs. Thatcher’s son Mark introduced S. and I to his “mum” at one of his pre-wedding events held at the American Embassy in London. She had just returned from some substantively important consultations with Mikhail Gorbachev in Moscow, and was more interested in talking about her trip than Mark’s wedding. Mark lost interest and wandered away leaving my darling wife and I as an audience of two for Maggie’s soliloquy on Anglo/Russian diplomacy. After what seemed an eternity, but was more likely less than five minutes, I began to sweat profusely wondering silently how one gets out of a one sided conversational burden with Madame Prime Minister. Ultimately she noticed our discomfort and let us down gently. Some weeks later, I had the occasion to call Mark at Number Ten Downing with something of an emergency. After some back and forth with the switchboard they put me through to the family quarters where they were evidently supping. Mark came to the phone, we conducted our business, and then he said, “mum says to tell you and your lovely wife hello”. Now that’s a politician.
I met Li Peng in one of his ceremonial offices as part of the protocol around a joint venture we were concluding with the Science and Technology Commission of Beijing Municipality. The meeting was, as you might expect, highly scripted and officially translated. Peng had been educated as a hydraulics engineer at the University of Moscow, but I had learned that his passion was Chinese history with particular interest in the Tang Dynasty. My challenge was how to work this in to the scripted and translated proceedings without seeming an ill mannered rube from America. Upon conclusion of the more formal part of our meeting, he politely asked if we were going to visit any other part of China. I saw my opening and offered that I hoped to visit Xian to see some of the terra cotta warriors of the Tang Dynasty. He perked up, and I quickly added that I had been collecting sancai glazed terra cotta figurines of the Tang period for some time, but none were of the quality of those in Xian. He almost smiled, but the meeting ended nevertheless. I was thinking I’d made a good impression if not a friend for life. Two months later he ordered the massive force and killings necessary to break up the protests at Tiananmen Square. I did not make it on his Christmas card list.
Business
As you might imagine, this is my strong suit. My list includes all of the usual suspects from the CEO’s of technology, communications, and financial services, but also includes others such as , Roger Smith, CEO of General Motors, and Jack Welch of GE fame. There are others that may not have been Fortune 500 CEO’s, but were significant and memorable nevertheless. I cite here some entirely different types; Roger Staubach (Naval Academy, Dallas Cowboys, and Staubach Companies), and Nathan Myhrvold (Chief Technology Officer of Microsoft, billionaire, and cook book author), and Carl Icahn (who strikes only fear in the heart of many CEO’s). I’d like to tell you about one I know the best and one I like the best.
Ross Perot defies simplistic definitions. No secret there. Most great people have that in common. I won’t even try to completely describe him or my interactions with him, but I will try to share with you part of why I think belongs on anyone’s list of great leaders of our time. He practiced the art of making those around him better than they thought they could be. I don’t know the calculus, but it was, in more or less equal parts, leading by example, unwillingness to fail, fear, perseverance, preparation, and vision. I think that about covers it. All I know is that whenever he asked me to do something, I could never begin to find the words to say, “I’m not sure I can get this done” or “I don’t think I know how to do this.” I was far more likely to say, “I’ll get right on it” even though I might have had serious reservations about whether I could complete the task. The outcomes weren’t always perfect, and sometimes they weren’t even good, but they were always better than I would have otherwise done. That’s about as good a definition of leadership that I know of.
I really like Roger Staubach a lot. He and I graduated college the same year, but that’s about where the similarities end. He’s everything every mom and dad would want their son or daughter to be. A great student (admitted to the US Naval Academy), winner of the Heisman Trophy, member of the College Football Hall of Fame, quarterback of the Dallas Cowboys, and Founder of Staubach Companies (which he recently sold for big bucks to a Chicago real estate mogul). On top of that, he’s a great family man by every dimension you would want to measure. I played basketball with Roger on his back yard court and found that his competitiveness did not diminish after he retired from professional sports. He wanted to win every game, every time, and was willing to do whatever it took. He brought that same spirit to his business life as well. Roger and I flew to California together one year to play in the ATT Pro Am. Obviously, we were both excited to have the chance to play in this signature golf event. It was really, really big potatoes for me, but I thought less so for him. On the way to the course for our first practice round he confided that he was thinking of pulling out. Somewhat aghast, I asked why would he do such a thing. He said that he was not a very good golfer, and that his poor play might both embarrass him and fail the expectations of the people who were watching. I told him that we were there to have fun, but if he wanted to remind those watching that he wasn’t a golf pro, he should put his Heisman Trophy on the front of our golf cart. He didn’t smile, but he went on to play pretty well and I got to bask in his reflected glory for awhile.
Sports
For some reason, most of the people I know in sports seem to congregate on the golf course or football field with the odd tennis or hockey player thrown in. Of course, being a well known sports figure does not make one a good guy. They seem to be pretty much like the rest of us. That is to say they have most of the strengths and weaknesses found in the rest of us mere mortals. Being in the whatever sports Hall of Fame is a rare attribute, but doesn’t even make one particularly interesting. There are those like Roger Staubach (cited above in the business section), Mark O’Meara (winner at Augusta in 1998, Troy Aikman (who we all know), Arthur Ash (the only black man to ever win grand slam singles titles at Wimbledon, the US Open and The Australian Open) , or Arnold Palmer, my personal favorite, who are great athletic champions and, in my experience, truly nice people. Let me mention one who isn’t and one who almost wasn’t.
Phil Mickelson has won four majors and 35 other events on the PGA tour, but he will never make my Mr. Nice Guy list. In addition to the anecdotal evidence of his churlishness and ego maniacal attitude, I have my own personal evidence. I played in a pro-am event at Castle Pines in Colorado with three other amateurs and Mickelson. I’ve played in many of these events over the years and enjoyed rubbing shoulders with the pros in very special circumstances. I assumed it would be the same with Mickelson. It wasn’t. For eighteen holes, Phil said not a word to me or to any of the amateurs in the group. Not a “good shot” or “this one should break a little to the left”. Not hello, or kiss my a**. In fact, when we were on the green, after he putted he would turn his back to the group and nonchalantly study his scorecard studiously ignoring our efforts to get the ball in the hole. I know he could talk because he spoke to his caddy. As we walked off the 18th green, I said (between gritted teeth), “great game Phil”. He said nothing and kept on walking.
Jack Nicklaus, on the other hand, had possibly a momentary lapse in his otherwise good guyness. He was seated next to my darling wife S. (who cared not one whit how many tournaments Jack had won) and I was seated across the table beside his darling, but observant wife Barbara. As the lengthy dinner proceeded I could not help but notice that Jack was not engaging in conversation with S., in fact, he hadn’t spoken to her at all. I could see Barbara tensing and throwing a few evil looks his way, but he didn’t notice. He was talking animatedly to Mark McCormick, his former agent, with whom he had a falling out some years hence and hadn’t spoken until this night. I knew none of this background at the time. Finally the dinner was over. Barbra bolted out of her chair, grabbed Jack by the arm and drew him away from the table while giving him a pretty good dose of what for. S. and I saw Barbara and Jack in the lobby in the morning and Jack made a beeline for S. I retreated a discrete distance. S. told me later that Jack had apologized profusely for his boorish behavior last evening and that while he hoped S. would forgive him, likely his wife would not. The moral of the story: even the great athletes of our time are made better by marrying well.
The Arts
This is not my strong suit. I’ve had some casual interaction with a few movie types and actually sat at a craps table with Yvette Mimeux for a few delightful minutes in Las Vegas, and I played a round of golf with Joe Pesci, but I’ve had little occasion to actually “know” people of artistic bent. Using my standard of “…but do they know you?” the only exception would be Ken Follett. I met Ken through his authorship of On the Wings of Eagles, and as I was a very minor part of the story, Ken interviewed me a couple of times in the course of his research for the book. S. and I also had the opportunity to get to know them while we were in London and came to like Ken and his South African wife Barbara very much. We were the only American guests at a dinner party in their clever Chelsea home one evening just after the U.S. had bombed the Khadafi compound in Libya. His other guests that evening were mostly left leaning (anti-American) intellectuals and artists who spent the better part of the evening with their noses in the air. During the course of the evening, Ken was kind enough to show me his extensive library on the third floor of his home. I was impressed enough to ask why he had assimilated such an extensive library, and he replied that he felt it was essential to his writing. “I want to really know what I write about”. Not bad I thought. Sometime later we ate out with Ken and Barbara and some other American friends. This occurred not long after his novel Lay Down with Lions had gotten to the top of the best seller charts. One inquiring but naive lady in the group asked Ken where he had gotten his ideas for the scenes in the caves (a demure referral, of course, to the quite steamy sex scenes in this part of the book). Ken was nonplussed and replied, “why, personal experience of course”. She turned a bright hue while I guffawed.
What do I conclude from all of these interactions over the years? It’s simple. The best of the best of the people, high and low, that I’ve known share, as far as I can tell, one characteristic in common….other than being really good at what they do and having achieved a measure of fame for it….they do not think of themselves as being particularly special. I’ll bet their moms are really proud of that. I hope they remember me well too.
