My daughter just barely missed passing an extremely difficult examination for a professional designation she is seeking, and for which she has been studying and taking courses for more than a year, at considerable personal expense. And when I say, “just barely missed passing”, I mean exactly that–by a few percentage points.

Knowing that she would be discouraged by this unfortunate occurrence (who wouldn’t be), I called her and gave her what would be euphemistically termed a “fatherly pep talk”. I told her that I have been defeated many times, and, after a period of feeling sorry for myself, always come back. I told her that, although it was her decision, (those of you with adult children reading this know that you can’t tell them what to do, only encourage them to –hopefully–do the right thing) I hoped that she would take the exam again, even though I knew that it would mean many more months of study, and at some financial cost, since this is a very expensive exam to take. I told her that it wasn’t like the Dillon’s to give up. I told her that Jewish people have this beautiful saying, “May you go from strength to strength.” That is what I wished for her–the strength to pull herself together and take the exam again.

To her credit, that is exactly what she is going to do–a true Dillon to the end! I am very proud of her.

As Margaret Thacther reportedly said, “Sometimes you have to fight a battle more than once to win it.” I think that she’s right.

When you have been in the professional services industry for over thirty years, and have been active in many non-profit groups, you attend a lot of meetings. One of the things that I have learned about meetings over the years is not to take a lot of detailed notes. Any meeting worth your time has someone taking (hopefully good) meeting minutes, or taking detailed notes themselves, which you can always get (or borrow) and refer to at your leisure. I think that people who sit in meetings and scribble a lot of detailed minutia on what is going on probably are missing what I think is the most important part of any meeting–and, that is the interaction of the people who are there, and a penetrating insight into who and what they are—and aren’t.

Over the years, I have learned to take meeting notes very sparingly. I am much more interested in intently concentrating on not only what people say, but how they say it. I am much more interested in intently concentrating on how people look when they are saying what they are saying. Listen extremely closely when people are speaking. Does their voice rise or fall? Is it serious? Does it quake?  Often you can detect anger, fear, unbridled ego, ignorance, intolerance, joy, warmth, deep concern, pity, contempt–the full range of human emotions. That can tell you an awful lot about a person. Then, peer deeply into the eyes of the person who is speaking–and, study every nuance of their face. “The eyes are the widows of the soul”, Michelangelo said.

Listen closely to how people say what they say. Peer extremely deeply into their eyes. When you get really good at this, you can often tell what someone is going to say even before they say it.

And, you will get a small peek into their heart and soul.

So, it was thirty years this past week-end since the fall of Saigon, ‘eh? It seems like only yesterday to me. I remember sadly watching the black and white pictures on the TV that day, remembering the streets that our company clerk, Tom, (who was my driver) and I roared through on our Jeep, on our way to the South Vietnamese Civil Aviation Authority building, or to the compound that housed the Military Assistance Command Vietnam (MACV) in Saigon.

I remember wondering what would happen to Mr. Trang (I think that was his name), who headed the Civil Aviation Authority, when I was there. Would he be sent to a “reeducation camp”? And what would happen to the Chinese waiters, waitresses, and kitchen help at the Loon Foon restaurant at the sprawling U.S. Army base at Long Binh, where I lived? (I taught them English every Sunday morning, after I attended Mass. My mother went to Follet’s bookstore on South Wabash Avenue in downtown Chicago, and purchased a bunch of grade school English primers, which she sent to me. They were a big hit. The Chinese were very interested in improving their English language skills–and, we had a raucous good time. They fixed me a big glass of café au lait (the real thick, gooey stuff–no imitation there) and croissants for breakfast (the French influence in Vietnam)–and, we sat outside for an hour or two and learned English. What fun!).

Standing there, watching the chaos that was unfolding before my eyes on the television, I remembered that last time that I was in Saigon, visiting our U.S. Army flight following station, which was co-located with the U.S. Air Force Ground Control Intercept (GCI) facility, known as “Paris Control” (named for Saigon, the “Paris of the Orient”). I used to drag in a mattress and sleep there, since they had the air conditioning going full blast to cool all the radar equipment

I liked bantering with both our Army guys and the Air Force staff at each of these GCI facilities. The U.S. Air Force had little air traffic control in Vietnam, as I recall, but had three Ground Control Intercept facilities in the country that they used to guide their tankers to meet up with their fighters and bombers–“Paris” in Saigon, “Pyramid”, up in the northern part of South Vietnam (named for the mountains up there that were shaped like pyramids, and “Patty”, in the southern part of the country, along the Mekong River delta (named after the rice patties that surrounded it).

I know it was a long time ago–but, it seems like yesterday to me. “Flight watcher” was my name. Tracking ‘copters was my game!!!

My youngest son, and his adorable young wife (the Irish are enamored with beauty, wherever it lies) bought their first home, recently. It is a beautiful home, set on a forested lot, with plenty of space. Not only that, but they bought a dog, a short haired Yorkie named “Banjo” (cute name, I think)….. and, in that ultimate symbol of suburban domesticity–a mini-van (if you consider a Honda CRV a mini-van).

Funny, we never think of ourselves as growing old. But, when your children begin to accumulate all of the trappings of suburban life, the reality of their full-fledged adulthood strikes with a vengeance. I can’t help but think of that beautiful song from Fiddler on the Roof, “Sunrise, sunset, sunrise, sunset, swiftly go the days,,,,,wasn’t it just yesterday when she was small,,,when did he grow so tall…”

I have often thought that my greatest career accomplishment was getting three children out of good, private colleges in four years, with no problems. I am so proud of all three of them, who ar

“A leader is someone you’d follow to a place that you wouldn’t go to by yourself.”

I’ve attended a lot of seminars and meetings lately, where the subject of “teaching leadership” comes up. Maybe, that’s because the corporate world is sadly coming to the realization of how few real leaders it has. Maybe, it’s because people are finally realizing that most people “look good, rather than do good”, as my father once put it, and with disastrous results to the organizations that they are purported to lead. I have found in my more than thirty-seven years in the business world that real, true leadership is a quality that is sorely lacking in most human endeavors. People typically confuse the terms “leadership” and management”. You “manage” things–but, you “lead” people.

I don’t think that leadership can be taught. It can only be nurtured in those who already have a proclivity toward it. If, as a child, you were taught by your parents and teachers to be mean, ruthless, selfish, uncaring, hateful, unethical and to always look out for No. 1 first (or, worse yet, neglected by your parents and teachers, and learned those things from others), then you will never be a real leader, no matter how many courses, seminars and training programs you sit through. The tragic and dirty little secret in business is that there are many, many people like this out in the business world, who managed to get themselves into so-called “leadership” positions (and you who are reading this know who you are).

People will do what they say because they HAVE to, in order to preserve their jobs, rather than WANT to–to support that person and the mission of the organization. Big difference.

But, if as a child, you were taught to put the interests of other people ahead of your own, to develop a “sense of self” that enables you to see the needs and wants of others–and fulfill them, to inspire people with your enthusiasm, your intelligence, your humor, your commitment to both their interests and the mission that needs to be accomplished, then you probably have the proclivity toward true leadership, and can develop those leadership talents by observing and working along with others who possess them.

There are many other qualities that true leadership requires–integrity, decisiveness, good judgment, the ability to form a vision and execute it, confidence in your own competence,  etc. But, without the ability to be selfless, to put the needs and wants of others before your own, you will never get people to “follow you to a place where they wouldn’t go to by themselves.”

That is why most people fail in leadership positions, I think, or can’t do it at all.

For the past several weeks now, spring has been heralded in the beautiful songs that the birds have been singing outside my bedroom window, starting around 3:30-4:00am. (There are two bird feeders in the back yard). I won’t consider spring to have officially arrived, however, until I lie awake at night and hear the first rumbles of God’s mighty thunder in an approaching storm.

The poet says that the greatest thing about the promise of spring is that, eventually, she has to keep it!

My middle child and his young wife went on a vacation over this past Christmas break to, of all places–Antarctica!

I admit going into a fit of apoplexy when I first heard about plans for this trip, since this is a young man who, as a child, would come down with a horrible cough and cold at the first sign of Chicago’s winter chill. But, after viewing more than 250 photos of the more than 1,200 pictures that they took on this trip, my attitude changed to one of fatherly pride. The look of excitement and wonder on the faces of both my son and his wife as they explored this strange world made all my initial fears seem unfounded. Antarctica has a stark, haunting beauty (along with a lot of penguins, more penguins–and, still more penguins) that is magnificently captured in the beautiful photos that they took.

Quite an adventure for a young man, who rarely traveled far from his suburban home. when he was growing up.

I recently had lunch with a friend, who was the former managing partner of a major law firm in Chicago. He is now the CEO of an important foundation in Chicago, which funds education and medical research activities. I think that his eyes have been opened to the fact that there is more to the work world than listening to the complaints of law partners that they aren’t making enough money. Where his world once consisted solely about looking “inward”,  for the first time in his life, he now has a job where he is looking “outward” at the world that surrounds him. He indicated to me how refreshing that is.

During the course of our luncheon, he asked me, “When do people begin to realize in their lives that there is more to life–that true success in life–is more than ‘he or she who has the most toys at the end wins’?”

I replied along the lines that, sadly, I believe, most people never come to this conclusion. They never even begin to think of this question. If they do, I opined, it is usually the result of some traumatic occurence in their lives, such as a health problem, the difficulties of a child, etc. Even then, it is difficult to pull away form the materialism of this world.

Interesting question, though. And, I’m glad that my friend is at least asking it, as his eyes are opened to the needs of the world around him in his new job

Many of you have been kind enough to email me and ask, “What’s up? How come no more blog postings?” I was very flattered to get messages like that, and to know that someone actually reads what I write. I never started down the “blog path” for the benefit of any readers, but to write for me–whenever I felt like it. But, that being said, I’m pleased to know that there is an audience, albeit small, for my musings. In fact, I am honored that anyone else cares.

The short answer is that I have had a lot on my mind, lately–both personal and professional– things that I didn’t want the whole world to see. (The blog isn’t for everything, ya’ know). But, I will try to post my musings on a more regular basis from now on. So, stay tuned! Heeeeeeeeeeeeees back!

On this coming Saturday evening, I have the great honor of introducing my good friend, former Illinois Senator Adlai E. Stevenson III as the 2005 commencement speaker for the Chicago School of Professional Psychology, where I am privileged to serve as a trustee. I spent a great deal of time writing my introductory comments. He is a wonderful man, and a good friend. And, I want to honor him with my words.

I hope that it goes well.

When I worked for the real estate consulting firm many years ago, the chairman of the board of the firm and I went to the offices of a major corporation located near Chicago, for the purpose of negotiating some real estate matters, on behalf of one of our clients. The gentleman, who was negotiating on the other side, was the director of real estate for this particular corporation. This gentleman was a quadriplegic, and used a motorized wheel chair to move about the office.

After a meeting or two with this particular person, I came to the conclusion the he was extremely bitter about his condition (maybe, rightfully so), and was set to take out his bitterness on the world. He was not a nice man, I surmised. This did not particularly bother me, since “being nice” is not a typically good negotiating stance, at least not in this circumstance. What bothered me was his mean spiritedness and his seeming hostility toward the everyone in general.

We had all the facts on our side (I learned very quickly as a young man to be very, very thoroughly prepared for negotiations like this), and pinned down this man on several key points during the negotiating session. The facts–and the logic of our argument– were winning the day, when, all of a sudden, this man slumps in his wheel chair, takes a sip of coffee through a straw from a cup on a tray on his wheel chair, and lets the coffee drool down the side of his mouth.

The message was clear: How could you do this to a person like me? Look at you. You can walk and move your arms. Now, look at me, and how pathetic I am. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?

Well, the tone in the negotiating room changed dramatically. (We weren’t the only three people in the room. Both sides had an accompanying retinue of staff). The conclusion was: his tactic worked. He probably got more than he should have, based strictly on the merits of the situation.

After we were finished with the session, and were walking down the hall, I turned to the chairman of the board of our firm and said, “Dammit! I’m furious. He shouldn’t have done that. He took unfair advantage of us.” The chairman replied, “Why are you so angry, Paul. He’s a very smart man. He knew that he couldn’t win the argument based on logic and the facts. So, he resorted to what he had. He used what he had. And, it worked.”

Then, he said to me, “Don’t we all use what we have–the talents that we have–in our lives?”

Of course we do. A penetrating insight into the obvious (except to this dumb Irish “mick”). Each of us has different talents. And, we all use them to get the job done, both at work, and in life.

The real tragedy, I have always thought, was for people who have real talent (unlike the author of this blog), and are too lazy to use it at all, particularly for the benefit of others. That, I believe, is the most grievous of sins.