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  • First Impressions

    First Impressions

     

    I swear to God it’s a lot easier to misread people’s looks, gestures, comments and emails…than it is to get them correct.

    Researchers say most people make up their minds about someone NEW within the first five seconds they see or hear the person speak.

    And that first impressions are lasting.

    One of my problems is that I fall in love with most every woman I meet – within the first five seconds.   If you got an Olympic Gold Medal for every failed marriage or relationship, I’d be on the cover of Wheaties, instead of Bruce Jenner, Mark Spitz or that new swimmer-guy from Ann Arbor.

    Anyway, first impressions may be lasting, but they are usually dead W-R-O-N-G.

    For years, I wrote a weekly newspaper column about people – and before and after that, held jobs requiring the ability to listen to people, synthesize their views, their skills and potential – and then make judgments about giving away money or hiring them.

    No wonder I had trouble holding a job.

     I’d been better off – have a better track record today – from a career reading tarot cards, performing brain surgery blind, or running the Federal Reserve System.

    First impressions suck. 

    The smartest, most charitable person I've known in my life walks around in old clothes, and likes to muck out horse stalls.

    I’ve learned that people are almost ALWAYS much deeper, much more interesting in their views, much better human beings than I first think….

    Which says more about what I think of myself, perhaps, than of them.

    Or as my Dad would say, looking over at the decked-out, pious dude in the pew across from us at Sunday Mass many years ago, “Jimmy, don’t judge the book by its cover.”

    You got that right, Dad.

  • My Cold, Dead Hand

     

    “My Cold, Dead Hand"

    “Hello, this is the Compaq Service Center.”

    “Yah, see, I bought this Compaq laptop from Office Max six weeks ago.  Along with a four-year extended warranty.  Last night, the hard drive on the computer failed.”

    “Did you call Office Max?”

    “Yes, three times.  They told me to call you. This 800 number.”

    “OK, please give me the computer’s serial number and……”

    PHONE goes dead.Dialing. Redialing.  Busy signals.  Redials.

    “Hello, this is the Compaq Service Center.”

    “OK, someone there just hung up on me.  (Repeats story.)”

    “Let’s see how we can help you.  Now from what you say, your Compaq laptop  is on warranty.”

    “Warranty?  The thing’s six weeks old!  I have a four-year service agreement.  I HOPE it’s on warranty!”

    “Well, just give me those computer serial numbers again, Sir, and your credit card number. It’s simply and easy: You take out the defective hard drive.  Send to us.  And we’ll send you a new hard drive in the mail.

    How’s that?”

    “What da ya want my credit card number for?”

    “For the ‘hold.’”

    “’Hold? You wanna put a ‘hold’ on my credit card?  For what?  How much?”

    “Just to be sure you send us that old hard drive.”

    “How much is the hold?”

    “Hmmmmm.  I’d don’t know.  Can you hold two minutes?  Thank you.”

    (18 MINUTES LATER, cell phone against my ear; probably getting ear and brain cancer from the radiation.”

    “Hello?  Hello?  Yes, sir, that hold on your credit card will be for $299.95.”

    “Compaq man.   That’s almost more than I PAID for the laptop.  You’ll have to pry that credit card out of my cold, dead hand.”

    "Well, we wouldn't want to haf ta' do that, ha. ha, now would we, Sir?  Didn't work for Charlton Heston."