Down the Rabbit Hole
Dublin, OH
November 1, 2019
Like a Mideast peace agreement, we know this won’t last. But for now, the weather in central Ohio is beautiful. The summer heat has laid down its arms, the winter chill has yet to fire a shot.
Today is All Saints Day (just noting the occasion, not soliciting gifts). Many Columbus locals have warned that after Halloween the weather turns ghoulish. If so, Winter’s militia must be gathering recruits, loading its muskets, and planning its initial assault. Yet this week…in the peace of a seasonal cease-fire…the sky is clear, temperature crisp, and trees radiant in glorious hues of dying leaves.
But I am here to be indoors. The first week in a new job is always difficult. New people, new place…small fish, big pond. Trying not to try too hard…but sometimes not trying hard enough.
Last week, as I was running the gauntlet of administrative tasks required in all new jobs, a gentleman popped his head in to introduce himself.
“Welcome to Cardinal Health. I’m Victor. Nice to meet you. You’re our new pricing director?”
“Yes. Nice to meet you as well”, I replied, stepping away from my computer to shake hands. “Great to be here.”
“I understand you live in Atlanta.”
“That’s right. Or, I should say, my house and family are in Atlanta. For the next few weeks, I live here.”
“I understand”, he commiserated. “I commute back and forth each week from Potomac, Maryland.”
“Really? Guess we may run into each other in the airport.”
I was relieved. I had met a fellow traveler. Someone I could relate to, have a beer with, vent to when things went awry, count on in a foxhole.
“So”, I continued…leaping right into the trench, “what do you do here?”
Victor paused for a moment, as if no one at this company had ever asked him that question. Probably because no one ever had. Or felt the need to.
“I’m the CEO of the Pharmaceutical Division”, he responded.
“Oh…is that all?”
Having summarily dissed the number two man at the company, the chief executive of its flagship business, I took solace that I probably need not bother finishing my mundane administrative tasks…and that I’d likely be living in Atlanta the next few weeks after all. My eyes closed and my shoulders drooped.
Victor tossed a lifeline. “Actually”, he smiled, “I work for you. Just tell me what you need. We need your help, and are glad you’re here.”
I appreciated his courtesy, his sincerity, and his verbal pat on the head. I have not seen Victor since. But everyone I have met has been as welcoming, as generous, and as patient.
I am absorbing as much and as fast as I can. When asked for my thoughts, I regurgitate industry snippets I have heard or read, like a young catechumen attending his first Latin Mass. I recite the words, but have no clue what they mean.
If everything I say is Latin, most of what I hear is Greek. With my fluent Desperanto I try…like a seasoned diplomat or typical politician…to say as little as possible, especially when speaking.
I nod a lot and smile frequently, letting the torrent of information wash over me, hoping a few drops will stick. For now, like beads of rain on a freshly waxed car hood, they roll right off. But soon the wax will wane, knowledge will sink in, and understanding will grow.
In the great movie Harvey, Jimmy Stewart said, “In this world you must be oh so smart, or oh so pleasant. For years I was smart. I recommend pleasant.” I do too, but there is no reason not to be both. Fortunately, I seem to have found a group of people who are.
Of course, like Stewart’s Elwood P. Dowd, I could simply be conjuring my own imaginary giant rabbits.
Maybe.
But even if I am…who cares?
JD
