Boss’s Day
Its one of those obscure “Hallmark Holidays,” but did you know that Sunday, October 16 was “Boss’s Day”? Started in 1958 by Patricia Bays Haroski, a State Farm employee, in honor of her boss and father, “Boss’s Day” celebrates your Boss – whoever they are.
The boss on Boss's Day
I had never heard of it. Until Friday, October 14, 2005 at about 9:30 a.m., that is. At that moment, the last ten years of team training came to signature. To understand that moment, you have to have a little background . . .
Trevor is one of our paralegals. His father is Cornell Ross, a dignified man who decided some years ago to follow his dream and live on a houseboat. Trevor had told me that his father had discussed retaining us to update his estate plan. After some administrative coordination, the “orientation meeting” was scheduled for Friday 10/14 at 9 a.m. Since he lived on a houseboat in Sausalito, and since it was supposed to be a beautiful day, it made perfect sense to me that we would meet on Cornell’s houseboat over coffee on my way into work. My next appointment was our Team meeting at 11, so there was plenty of time for a 45-minute introduction to our process and protocol.
Because of the timing, Patricia and I decided to take the Oakland-San Francisco Ferry at 8:10 a.m. I made some spousal pleas to relieve myself of the normal morning kid-dropoff duties and met Patricia at Jack’s Bistro in Jack London Square for fresh-baked sweetrolls and a hazelnut latte. Remember that “yes, Friday!” mode that you vaguely remember from some year B.C. (every parent knows that “B.C.” stands for “Before Children”)? I was affirming my decision to live and work in the Bay Area.
Patricia had arranged a limo to take us from the Ferry Building to Sausalito. I didn’t think anything of this. You see, in San Francisco, like Manhattan, limos are so ubiquitous that its not unusual, or significantly more expensive, to “take the L” (the L is actually a Muni train that goes off into the Sunset, but its Myers Law Firm codespeak for a limo), especially when you know you have to go from A to B a specific time.
Trevor met us at the dock and I had a 5-minute prep session for the orientation among the three of us, sitting on those weathered wooden benches surrounded by plants and flowers that is the landscape of the houseboat community. A man dressed in a tie stopped me on the way in - “not a suit and tie in this direction” he said (I was wearing a suit and tie and heading towards the boats).
As usual, the cats were roaming about looking for a sympathizer, and, not so usually, the sun was warming the harbor. The water was still, and the foghorn was sounding faintly from the South (Marin can be sunny while San Francisco is foggy). If it was a degree less than 70, I would be surprised. All I could think of was, “I sure could use one of these houseboats!” But I had to focus for an orientation meeting, so I stayed the course and ignored the whispers of the spirits to “come hither and have fun.”
Upon arriving at the houseboat, Cornell offered a cup of coffee and everything appeared to be proceeding as [I had] planned. Patricia had made some calls into the office on our way in to deal with whatever crisis-of-the-moment had bullied its way into our mindspace.
Without warning the atmosphere changed. Patricia held up a bag and announced that it was “Boss’s Day” and out of the closets and bedrooms popped Heidi, Megan and Malissa. Turns out the sailboat tied up to the back of the houseboat was ours for the day, the cooler and bagels were packed, and there was a set of spare sailing clothes that my wife had smuggled into the office. It was “game on.”
Learning my wife had been a part of this really underscored the diabolical planning effort that went into this. She had stuffed a plastic bag with my sailing clothes, put one baby toy on top, and tied it up so only the baby toy was sticking out. Their plan was to have me bring in the bag, thinking it was baby clothes for Trevor (Ariel is expecting!). In any event, Trevor made the ruse quite believable, because he forgot about it and called Ariel to tell her that “Eileen sent in a bunch of baby clothes and toys for us.” Patricia overheard this and, behind my back, quietly reminded Trevor that my sailing clothes were in the bag, not baby clothes and toys for Ariel. Hopefully Ariel will get past it. Also, I am fairly sure there actually are plenty of baby clothes and toys that will get handed down from Eileen to Ariel eventually.
I changed in the bathroom, had my coffee, and within minutes, we were on the Bay. The day was going a whole different direction than I had planned just 15 minutes earlier.
We sailed around the tip of Belvedere to Tiburon (Sam’s) for lunch and Bloody Marys. Its always a gas showing up at Sam’s on a boat. After brunch, we headed back to Sausalito for more shared company. There were some great moments – forgetting that tiller-to-the-left meant boat-goes-to-the-right almost landed us in a neighbor’s living room. And coming about around the point in Belvedere had us heeling and taking on water. I heard, but did not observe, that Malissa, our urbanite, left her fingernails scratched into the wood bench. I won the vanity prize for trying to squeeze into the cap’n’s photo and knocked the tiller across, nearly spilling my crew into the brine.
Lessons learned. I don’t have an experience like this without some reflection about it. In this case, I observed the difference between stated need and actual need. I stated that my need was to get to the office, bill those hours, monitor team and make sure they put in their hours. But the spirit was saying that I needed to be on the Bay in the warm sun, piloting a sailboat.
There is a big difference between what someone says they need and what they need. Their outbound communication is a product of their perception, their experience, and their motives. People with no desires don’t generally say very much. But the communications are filtered through perception, experience, and motives (conscious and unconscious).
So while it may seem that what we need is some more detailed understanding of the cash flow projections in retirement, or the latest Treasury Regulations on some issue, generally this is not true. What we need are caring, supportive people around us – whether they be team members, clients or family. You see, to increase the firm’s ‘wealth,’ the team merely has to ‘appreciate’ it. If you look it up in the dictionary, "appreciate" means two things: (1) to hold gratitude for someone or something; and (2) to increase the value of something (a stock "appreciates" when it is "appreciated.") In our world, it means both.
Our value appreciates by the fact that others appreciate it. And this is not a quantitative observation - in the quantitative world, 100 is greater than 5. Selecting the metric of ‘dollars saved or earned’ is not appropriate to evaluate what is probably a different need. Yes, 100 is greater than 5. In the qualitative world, the astute seeker asks "100 what?" "5 what?" Because if you are talking about 100 lawsuits, for example, and are comparing that to 5 loving, caring team members or 5 children or 5 more grateful clients in our tent, then I - for one - will take the 5.
As we appreciate each other, they appreciate us, and EVERYONE'S value goes up. The here and now, where the Team is connecting to their Boss’s real need - is the magic whiffle dust. I needed to get kidnapped by the whispering spirit of fun and taken on a voyage to Sam’s, under the sun, in the open Bay.
In order to gain insights into the advisor-client relationship, one needs to understand that we sometimes have to separate what the client states their need is (“I just want something simple” or “give me one of them-there living trusts”) with what their need really is (“I want peace of mind, knowing I have cared for my family with the legacy that I have earned and that they deserve”). And perhaps in the journey, on the sailboat or otherwise, they will discover why they came to ask you the question.
So, happy Boss’s Day, fellow bosses and others. And please be alert to the real needs of the people around you.
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