25 July 2014

Intersection points: How a Merc trumped a Civic

Another intersection point with a great friend and colleague from the past. After the day long meetings last Wednesday, I grabbed my rental car and drove to the spot Stefanie and I had agreed to meet. If you are ever in the Milwaukee area, do not forget to have a drink or dinner at Seven Seas in Hartland. It is a beautiful restaurant set up in a very rural setting on Lake Nagawicka!

But the real excitement was in meeting Stefanie after 12 years. It was fascinating following her journeys from Germany to Dallas (where we worked together) to Seattle and now Wisconsin in a place called Oconomowoc as she moved every time her son in law and daughter moved just so that she could stay close to her granddaughters.

It was a delightful evening listening to her stories – and she had some really funny ones – and getting caught up on our old friends from the yesteryears. We used to sit in cubicles next to each other and we certainly remembered a lot of the funny events that had happened around us!!! There was that false anthrax scare at office!!! Apart from work, she was also a big part of my personal life. She was the person who was there with me in the hospital when we almost lost Sharmila to a miscarriage and was absolutely the most helpful person ever.

The funniest incident that we recalled involved a customer. As a background, Stefanie had a great, impressive looking dark green Mercedes SEL 500. And I was driving my much-battered Honda Civic (which eventually died on the road). In a conference room, myself and my team were engaged with a prospect and as the meeting started getting late, I was simultaneously sensing that we were going to get the deal. As the meeting slipped further, I let the prospect know that we had canceled his cab and I would personally drop him. That would give him some more time and also give me an opportunity to deal with him one on one if he wanted to go over some of the negotiation points.

And then it struck me that taking him in my beat up Civic might not give him all the right signals. I called up Stefanie and asked her if she would mind pulling her car up so I could drop the prospect. Stefanie, being Stefanie, immediately jumped on it and in a few minutes pulled her car up in front of the office door where I and the prospect were waiting with the rest of the team who had come down to say Bye.

As I drove off to the airport, I started chatting up the prospect and we started getting to know each other and our families. And as I pulled into the airport, he made an interesting comment – “If you don’t mind, may I say something?”. “Of course”, I said. “I am really impressed with your stature in your company and how fast you have reached there. I do not think I have ever seen any executive’s admin pull up his car from the parking spot before.” And I was like “Oh! Boy! This is going to be interesting”.

Finally, as I dropped him off, I blurted out .. “Well, Steve, I have something to say too”… and then explained the whole situation. We had a great laugh standing next to the drop off point. Turned out he was not much into cars either.

We got the deal the next day. I took Stefanie out for dinner that day to say Thank You. And this Wednesday was the next time I had dinner with her!!

I hope to run into Stefanie again down the road…

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23 July 2014

If you find yourself at the Atlanta airport… especially with your kids….

Had it not been for the young lady sitting next to me on my Delta flight back home a few weeks back, I would have never realized that back in 1837, Stephen H. Long, the Chief Engineer of Western and Atlantic Railroad had described Atlanta (my home for the last seven years) as “A good location for one tavern, a blacksmith shop, a grocery store and nothing else”. Or the beauty of the Atlanta airport itself (and I must have visited it – on a conservative basis five hundred times at least).

I forget where I was flying from but I remember as I sat down in my aisle seat, the lady in the window seat next to me asked “I wanted to apologize upfront for inconveniencing you. I did not get an aisle seat today and I will have to bother you to go the restroom later”.

No big deal to me. So I said “Not a problem at all. I can always do with getting up and stretching”. It appeared she always chose aisle seat, just like me. So I asked “Looks like you travel a lot”. “Every week!”, she said.

I did not reveal that that is what I have to do too. Instead, I said “I noticed the Asics shoes you are wearing. Are you a runner?”. “Yes! I try running every day”, she said. “Really?”, I asked, “Does it not interfere with your travel schedule?”. Personally, I knew how difficult that could be.

She agreed but then went on to explain the tricks she had learnt on the road to keep up with her metabolism level and diet control. Of all the tips she gave me, one stuck in my mind. She said she avoided taking trains at airports, cabs if she could help it, moving sidewalks, automated escalators and simply focused on walking or climbing stairs whenever she could in her day to day life. And that night, at the terminal train station, we wished each other well as I stepped into the airport train and she walked away. And I told myself “She had a point. I should try that next time”.

And ever since, I have stopped taking the train at Atlanta station. It actually felt good initially. Then it became a habit. I would just keep walking thru the tunnel dragging my suitcase, most likely on the phone talking to somebody, my eyes to the ground not noticing anything else. Eventually, I would reach my destination and think “That was good. I got some exercise”.

Till today.

Today, my flight was out of Terminal C. Starting from Terminal T, then A, then B and then C, that was a long walk. But I am glad I did it. Atlanta airport is always known for its art. But the walls in the tunnel between Terminal B and C is a fascinating depiction of the history of Atlanta over the last 800 years. Before today, if you had asked me of Atlanta’s past, I probably would have said “Martin Luther King”, “slaves”, “cotton farms” and pretty much stop there. I might even have incorrectly thrown in Jimmy Carter to show that I was up and up with modern history 🙂

If you ever are in Atlanta airport, especially with kids, do get off at Terminal B station and walk till Terminal C. It will give you and the kids a great understanding of the history of the place called Atlanta today. There are numerous pictures, anecdotes and quotes adorning the walls in a chronological fashion.

That quote from the Chief Engineer was awesome just to look back at it and realize how terrible we often are in predictions. Speaking of hubris, you will find a picture of a young girl – Martha Lumpkin – whose dad, once the Governor of Georgia (and infamous for brutally removing the Cherokees from Georgia) renamed the town “Marthasville” in honor of his youngest daughter! (The city was called Terminus before that because that is where Western and Atlantic Railroad terminated – one more testimony to their imaginative powers 🙂 ). Ironically, the name was changed to Atlanta primarily at the suggestion of another Chief Engineer – from a competitive railroad company!!

Another picture that caught my eye was the famed General of the Union Army – W.T. Sherman. It was not his picture so much as his quote – which is acutely relevant even in today’s world: “War is cruelty and you cannot refine it”.

That walk which should have taken me 5-6 minutes lasted a full half an hour.

And here is the real irony at the end. After walking all that distance, I was so hungry and with such little time to get to the plane that I grabbed some junk food on the way and merrily munched it away, completely oblivious of all the diet tips my fellow passenger had given me that evening. I regained all my calories and more.

I cannot wait for my next flight that might leave from Terminal D or E or F, though! I wonder what those walks will bring to me…

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23 July 2014

The smallest thing in life …

… Often reflect on one of the biggest thing of the past

It was a long work day. Finally came home and did something that the inlaws love doing whenever I am home. We sit by the pool, light up the citronella candles, pour some wine and start talking. Sharmila was busy with the kids – so it was just the three of us.

I learnt why my father in law is called what he is called. What I did not know is that in those days of high childbirth mortalities, his mom lost her first four kids. Out of tremendous pressure from society and family – those were not easy days for women in India to begin with, far less for women who could not bear a living child – she cried and prayed like crazy to God to let her next born live. Moment the child was born, she named him “Rakhahari” – meaning “Please keep (this one), God”!!! And He did!!

Who knew?

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