My interest in his book went well beyond our old friendship. Sam was mentoring me again after all these years. He just didn’t know it. His target was a younger audience but there was unspent energy in many people my age along with a thirst for achievement, and in some cases an economic need to support a forced retirement.
I was to pick him up at the train station. Then we would head off to his presentation sponsored by the local chamber of commerce. Sam was speaking on “The New Era of Entrepreneurship,” one of his favourite topics. Afterward he would be signing books and mixing with old and new friends alike. About a hundred and fifty people were expected.
I had orchestrated the event with total confidence but now I was nervous. How well did Sam remember me? Was he just coming to sell books? What should I say to him? It had been so long. My emotions were raw as a siege of memories attacked my thoughts.
It started to rain, which somehow seemed appropriate, and then he was there walking down the platform toward me. It was reassuring to see the wide smile on the face of a man who still had the power to make me shake in the knees with the fear of disappointing him. Old habits die hard. Naturally, he spoke first.
“Well, Nick, I never would have thought that the kid Gary and I took out on Halloween fifty years ago and pushed over outhouses with would turn out to be such a respectable-looking dude.”
And with that offhand remark the ice was broken. There was a smile on my face matching the one on his as we shook hands and embraced with real feeling as only old friends could do.
“I’d almost forgotten that night. Gary made me promise never to tell a soul because if Mom and Dad found out he was in big trouble and I would be in worse. The two of you terrorized me that night. I was maybe seven and I was sure I was going to fall into one of those shithouses after you pushed it over, or worse, get caught by the owners.”
Sam was laughing out loud.
“Gary was furious that we had to take you but we made sure you didn’t cramp our style. We even collected some candy for you to keep you quiet.… I still miss him.”
There was an awkward silence, maybe the only one that happened over the next few weeks. Then I changed the subject.
“So welcome back, Sam. Are you all ready to give the big performance for the home crowd?”
That seemed to relax him.
“Actually I am. Some people can’t wait to grab a platform and speak to an audience. That’s definitely not me. Give me one-on-one or a small group anytime. I hated these bigger crowds at first. Too many people are easily impressed that you wrote a book regardless of what it’s about. I don’t like the attention, but I’m finally getting used to it. We should have a friendly audience today, don’t you think?”
We had fallen easily into a comfortable pattern of familiar conversation. While your body ages your mind refuses to recognize it. When you reconnect with someone like Sam, no matter how long it’s been, your mind jumps right back to where it once was. As we drove to the Legion building, where a welcoming crowd of admirers was waiting, we talked mainly about the problem at hand: his upcoming speech. But along the way Sam worked in enough penetrating questions to find out what I had done in my career and what my goals were now. He had a way of drawing people out with ease. It was painless.
Before I knew it we’d arrived, but not before having agreed to an early dinner together before Sam caught a later train back to the city. Then I handed him over to the emcee for the day, Jim Hammond, and moved to the back of the room to take in the whole event and watch my old friend perform. I had declined to introduce him. My goal was to observe, not to get wrapped up in participating. Besides, I had an idea for Sam that I wanted to bring up over supper. Part of it depended on what he had to say that day.
CHAPTER THREE
No Disappointment
For a moment I regretted my decision to let someone else introduce my brother’s best friend. Jim’s introduction was factual but lacked any personal connection. Gary would not have been pleased with me. No one else seemed to notice, so as Sam took the podium he received loud and warm response, one reserved for a local boy who has made good. His opening remarks suggested he was relaxed, seemingly reassured by the welcoming crowd in front of him. Quite a change from the shy kid who grew up a few blocks away. The scene reminded me of one of Gary’s favourite jibes delivered often to Sam to gain back an advantage. As a teenager Sam was a jock but despite his popularity, for his first date, he had to convince Gary to phone and ask the girl to go out with him. He couldn’t do it himself, just another thing my brother had held over his head for years. Today he was a different man, comfortable in his own skin. On the drive over he told me that he’d developed a PowerPoint presentation with visuals that people seemed to like.
“I really prefer a conversational interview situation but I’ve developed my own style for public speaking; basically I speak to the slide. That way I forget about the audience and stay focused.”
As the first slide appeared on the screen, I knew he was nervous but he hid it well. The image was a picture of Sam from a focus group he conducted at the University of Toronto. The writing beside the photo was a quote from his book: “The most important skill today is the ability to create and manage your own career.” That was one of his dominant themes and one that he hammered home at every opportunity. As the crowd quieted down Sam began.
“It’s one of life’s little ironies that writers write because they don’t like to speak. However, once you get a book published you soon get engaged in a process called ‘shameless self-promotion’ and before you know it you find yourself talking to anyone who will listen, whenever and wherever they want, including a bunch of old friends in your hometown.”
At that point there were a few chuckles and the stage had been set.
“When I was approaching retirement a few years ago, the only two things on my bucket list were to write a book then to get it published. As it turns out, those are two very different things. The most important advice I received was to write about something you know. For me that meant writing about my career and the experiences that I had along the way. My first reaction was ‘Who would be interested in my career?’ It’s been anything but high profile. In the meantime I started doing some pro bono consulting in my own way. I am grateful for the opportunities that I’ve had in my own businesses and I wanted to encourage others. My idea was to explain the world of small business to people considering it, so I started a series of short programs — no charge — for anyone who was interested, but limited to three at a time. That’s when I met Tim Davidson; he was in one of those first informal sessions. Before I knew it he had me doing online seminars or webinars. Some of you may have seen one of them.
“It turns out my career is relevant. You can see some of the highlights: forty-five years as an entrepreneur in several businesses in different industries. One of those was in the first wave that faced serious off-shore competition. We had to make a tough choice: either sell, if we could, or move the company offshore and manufacture overseas. Fortunately we were able to sell. Within ten years the domestic industry was decimated. I had to reinvent myself several times over the years but that’s the new normal we all face today. Now my goal is to encourage the broadest possible use of entrepreneurial thinking because we are already in this new era of entrepreneurship we’re discussing today. That goes well beyond starting or running a business. I can’t stress enough how important it is for every individual to become their own brand, making good strategic decisions along the way. So entrepreneurship for all, but entrepreneur’s such an awkward word isn’t it?”
Once again several people nodded as Sam took the opportunity to drink some water. As he continued another slide popped up: “Understanding Entrepreneurship.”
“It’s a long word, sixteen letters. If you hashtag it that makes seventeen characters, which plays havoc with your Tweets. Oh yes, I’m on