Man to Man The Smartest Guy I Know
“So I’m an airhead!” Tom says.
A rehabilitation stint in the nursing
home followed. When I visit, I search for
signs of depression or boredom.
“You going stir-crazy, Tom?” I ask. He’s
lying on the bed and looks oddly tiny.
“Nah,” he says, “it’s all right. I sleep. It
passes the time.”
I marvel at his patience.
Or perhaps it isn’t patience. Perhaps it’s
just cussedness disguised as patience.
I HAVE COME TO REALIZE THAT THE MOST
valuable lesson Tom can teach me isn’t
how to run a lathe or build a cannon or
find love that lasts for 6 0 years, but rather
how to live in equanimity, to take things
as they come, like some roughneck yogi.
There is this story Tom tells: He was
working in the yard when a car pulled in
and two men got out. One was fresh-faced
and young; the other appeared more sea-
soned. Insurance salesmen, as it turned
out, pushing disability policies. Tom says
he figured out pretty quickly the older guy
was breaking in the new guy, showing him
the tricks of the trade. The older agent
took a long, slow look at the place. Finally,
he said, “Nice farm you’ve got here.”
“Yep,” said Tom.
“Looks like you’ve put a lot of work into
the place.”
“Yep.”
“Have you thought about what you
would do if you got disabled and couldn’t
keep it going?” asked the salesman.
“What would I do?” said Tom. “I’d sell
the whole damn works and set on my ass—
that’s what I’d do!”
AFTER TOM COMES HOME FROM THE
hospital, I drop in to visit. Even inside at
the kitchen table we can’t escape the
sound of traffic. You’d think a nonstop
intrusion like this would turn a man sour
for life. But when I ask if he’s angry, he
says, “Nope. You got to adjust because you
can’t change it.”
He is not one to forget; neither is he
one to fruitlessly linger. Waiting until the
moment feels right, I look him right in the
eye and ask the question I’d always
wanted to ask: “All these years, Tom—you
have any regrets?”
“Well, sure,” he says.
And then he grins, and doesn’t say
another word. ;
Adapted from Visiting Tom: A Man, a
Highway, and the Road to Roughneck Grace
HOLD YOUR FIRE
How to stay serene in four situations that would make lesser men lose it.
Illustrations by ANDREA MANZATI
Of course you’re key-their-car mad. “The
angry response is the
natural response,”
says Leon James, Ph. D.,
a psychology professor and founder of
Dr Driving.org. To quiet
your impulse to flip
the bird, roar like a
lion. Sure, it feels silly;
that’s the point. “The
situation becomes
humorous,” James
says. “If you control
yourself for those first
10 seconds, then reason can take over.”
Your parking
spot was stolen
Tell yourself what
seems like rudeness
may just be a bad
habit. “We’re so used
to speaking while
watching TV at home
that some people
don’t differentiate
between the two,”
says Pier Forni, Ph. D.,
author of TheCivility
Solution. Take a light
approach: “My wife is a
big fan of Clooney—
she’ll die if she misses
this. Mind keeping it
down?” If that fails,
see a manager.
Someone is
talking during
a movie
Before you ride
Grandma’s bumper,
pretend the driver is
your grandma. “If you
pick somebody you
wouldn’t express negative emotions to,
then you’re less likely
to trigger a negative
response,” says
James. Then address
the underlying aggravator: You’re feeling
trapped. Roll your
window down or scoot
your seat back a bit
until you find a safe
opportunity to pass.
A slow driver is
in the fast lane
As soon as the rep
answers, establish a
rapport by addressing
him (or her) by name,
says Ed Gagnon, president of Customer
Service Solutions. So
when you’re fed the
“That’s just our policy”
line, you can say,
“John, can you explain
the policy and what
my alternatives are?”
Using his name
reminds you he’s an
actual person, which
can help keep you
calm. —LAURA ROBERSON
You’re calling
customer
service
