A Bad Day

There are devastating days and then there are just bad days. Devastating days are the ones when a loved one dies, or you lose a job. Bad days are simply those when a series of minor events goes wrong. In my life, I have been fortunate not to have many devastating days. I do have a classic bad day example to share.

It was late October, 1996. I and 2 other co-workers were on a business trip to Orlando. It was my first trip for Sprint. The plan was to fly down on a Wednesday morning, attend vendor meetings on Wednesday afternoon and Thursday morning, and then fly back to Kansas City on Thursday afternoon. The trip had an ominous start as the plane set down in Nashville with mechanical problems. The airline was a small one that did not have another plane in Nashville, so the airline let us know that we were on our own. We booked a new flight on another airline and arrived in Orlando just as the Thursday meeting concluded. We'll, there are worse places to go for no reason, so you say an evening in Orlando isn't so bad.

We had our Thursday morning meeting with the vendor and returned to the airport to catch our flight back to KC. We were supposed to leave Orlando at 5:00 PM, but found that the flight was delayed by 1 hour. During the delay, I called home. Terri informed me that KC was in the middle of an unexpected snow storm, so that must be the reason for the delay. What a surprise. The forecast when we left KC was for a temperature in the mid-40's with a slim chance for light rain.

At around 6:00 PM, we departed Orlando with an expected arrival in KC of around 9:00. The flight was smooth and uneventful. When we were about 45 minutes outside of KC, the pilot came on the intercom and told us that the KC airport had just closed due to weather conditions. He said that we had enough fuel to circle for an hour or so waiting for it to reopen, but would then need to head for another airport. So we circled for an hour. The airport remained closed. so we then diverted to Omaha. After a hard landing due to high cross-winds, we gassed up and immediately took off for the recently reopened KC airport.

After getting fuel, the pilot asked that we pull our belts tight because "it's going to be a rough ride". And it was. Strong cross-winds buffeted the plane again. Air sick bags became high demand items, but we made it to KC safely at 2:30 AM. Now the bad day starts.

After collecting my luggage, I stood at the bus station waiting for a ride to the satellite parking area. Accompanying me on the trip was my boss. Since it was after midnight, I asked if this was considered a travel day, meaning, I would not need to show up at the office the next morning. "Nice try" he said. "Be there by 9:00". Yoohoo! An extra hour of sleep.

I had not brought a coat since it was in the 80's in Orlando and the forecast was expected to be relatively mild in KC on Thursday evening. Wrong. The temperature was in the 20's and the snow was 10 inches deep. Sweeping the snow off your vehicle in those conditions wearing a short sleeve shirt was the first bad thing in the next 24 hours.

After thawing my truck out, I started the 45 minute drive home. I might make it by 3:30 or 4:00 AM. I remember watching the blue flashes across the entire city on my drive. You see, in late October, KC trees still have their leaves. When you add 10 inches of wet snow, the tree limbs fall and take down power lines. The blue flashes were electrical transformers blowing all over the city.

I arrive home after a long day. No power. Luckily I had a gas hot water heater, so was able to get a warm shower before retiring. I was up and out of bed by 8:00 and out the door by 8:30. The storm had caused massive power outages across the city, so traffic was a mess. Progress to work was stop and go.

My truck began to overheat. Soon, I decided to pull into a local car repair shop and drop the truck off for repair. I called Terri, who picked me up in our mini-van and delivered me to work. I made it by 10:00 and sought out my boss to make excuses. He wasn't in. Instead I listen to a voicemail from him stating that due to the late arrival the night before, he would be in after lunch.

I go about my normal workday and my boss never shows. Bosses, harrumph! I finish out the day and catch a ride home. Upon arriving, I notice that the driveway has been cleared. It turns out that Lyndy cleared it. That is the good news. The bad news is that she used her car's headlights to light up her work, and now the battery in car was dead. No problem. I gladly trade giving her a jump start for not having to clear the driveway.

I pull our mini-van out and hooked up the jumper cables. She turns the key and bam! The battery on the mini-van explodes. Cables were hooked up correctly, but the 4 year old battery was starting to degrade. The added load pushed it over the edge.

I remember this moment very clearly. I am tired, standing in the cold and dark. I started the day with 3 operational vehicles. Now all were broke. I had no power or warmth in my house. I was hungry, but had no food, or power to cook with. This was the low point in the day. Things then started to turn positive as a neighbor loaned me their car, which I used to go purchase a new battery. Once the new battery was installed, I was able to jump start Lyndy's car, so 2 of 3 vehicles I could repair were now operational.

Then the family and I then went in search of dinner along with the rest of the community. Dinner that night was at Boston Market. Not because we like Boston Market, but rather they were the only restaurant we found that had food left. After a long wait we dined on what was left for sale, notr necessarily what we wanted.

I will always remember that day as one that Murphy's Law prevailed. Anything that could go wrong, did.

Mid-life Crisis

I had a mid-life crisis. It was not a woman or a motorcycle, however I was a vehicle. By any one's standard, it was not a great vehicle. Gas mileage was poor, it has a poor safety rating, it was cold in the winter and hot in the summer, you would never take it on a long trip because it would beat you to death, you could to leave anything of value in it unattended because it was so easy to break in, and it barely would maintain highway speed. When the weather man is wrong, I would end up baling water out of it after an unexpected thunderstorm.

I no longer have it after trading it in on a Chevrolet Tahoe, the most luxurious, comfortable, and practical vehicle I have ever owned. Yet, I still miss the mid-life crises vehicle even now, 6 years after the trade in.

It makes no sense. My yellow Jeep Wrangler the most impractical vehicle I have ever owned. It was also by far the most fun vehicle I have ever owned. Terri and I would spent warm summer nights cruising the back roads of Kansas in it. It is the only vehicle I have ever owned that would that would entice us to just go out on a drive.

You may have seen bumper stickers on Jeeps that say "It's a Jeep thing, you wouldn't understand". Very true. Jeep owners are loyal. A Jeep Wrangler can best be described as a motorcycle on 4 wheels. You feel the road like a motorcycle and have the 2 wheel open air driving experience, yet retain some of the safety features of a car. It is a Jeep thing. I want another.

My next Jeep will be a pure recreation vehicle. I do not want to rely on it for basic transportation. It may be a used, beat up, high mileage model. I just want to experience back road pleasure driving one more time.

I Like to Listen

Besides TV, music has also been a significant part of my life. I remember the first time that I became a true music fan. I was listening to my mother's FM radio in the evening. I changed the station to an underground rock station in town with KUDL call letters, (they have been through multiple format changes over the years). I remember the songs that caught my interest. They were The James Gang, "Walk Away", and Led Zeppelin, "The Immigrant Song". I had never heard any soundlike that before.


Everything I had listened to in the past was my parents music. Dad like Elvis Presley and the Lawrence Welk Show, while Mom liked Tom Jones, Herb Alpert and other popular musicians. I had developed my own tastes, but they were always the current pop stars such as Glen Campbell or the Partridge Family. I had a crush on Susan Dey up until her LA Law days, and was depressed when I learned that she lip synced. I wanted to grow my hair long like David Cassidy. After all, he was the chick magnet of my childhood.

But now I had my own kind of music. Rock. I soon began to follow other bands. My first concert was to see Sugarloaf in the Shawnee Mission North High School gym. They had just released their first and only hit, "Green Eyed Lady". It was a bid deal to me. I bought their cassette and wore it out.

Once I starting working regularly, I bought my own stereo and increased the number of bands I followed. I began to support BTO, Grand Funk Railroad, Chicago, Steppenwolf, Alice Cooper, and others with my record purchases. Once I moved away from home, having the loudest, and best quality stereo system was a priority. I purchased a stereo receiver from Kennedy and Cohen for around $1,000. It had 100 watts per channel. When paired with the large speakers I had built, I could light up the night. Yet, it wasn't the best stereo on the block.


A friend of mine had an older (probably 25 years old) acquaintance who made great money and dumped it all into stereo gear. He had pre-amps, post-amps, tuner, turntable, reel to reel, equalizers, and to top it all off, the baddest speakers made at the time - the JBL Voice of the Studio. They stood 5 to 6 feet tall, 3 feet wide and 3 feet deep. The sound that came from them was the purest and loudest I had ever heard. This stereo was spread across the living room and dining room of a single family house. My friends and I would visit and bring our favorite albums, hoping for permission to play them on this incredibly awesome system. In those days, we were music snobs. Pop records were never played. Even suggesting that we play the Eagles "Desperado" (a classic) was met with boo and hisses. Glass Harp, The Grateful Dead, Jefferson Airplane, Hot Tuna, and other alternative rock bands were the favorites. And we would turn it up. You could hear our music from blocks away.


I knew I could never afford gear like that, but it didn't stop me from constantly improving what I had. I added newer equipment, built new speakers, and even built custom speakers into a room at my house. And I never stopped building my collection of music. I still have most of that old vinyl in the basement. I find it incredible that the sound quality that required thousands of dollars of investment then, not to mention donating rooms in your house, can now be replicated in a personal digital music player. Even my entire library of music can now fit on my medium sized iPod.


My current sound systems double as the systems used for TV audio. I have two Bose surround sound systems. I have a 5.1 system connected to the 60 inch Sony HDTV. We use this system to watch DVD movies. The sound is pure and crisp and the power can rattle the windows. After moving into our new home I realized that I could not wire the great room for rear speakers, so a 5.1 system could not be installed. That prompted the purchase of a Bose 3.2.1 system. While not true surround sound, the audio is clear and crisp and the system has more than enough power for a single room. We have this system connected to the 50 inch plasma over the fireplace. Both systems are also used to listen to CD audio.


As my musical tastes have changed over the years, the one constant has always been my attraction to any musical instrument, acoustic or electric guitar, mandolin, banjo, piano, Dobro, or any other as long as the musician playing it had talent. Certain bands that had a unique sound might have caught my attention briefly, but if there was little musical talent I would quickly lose interest.

That means that my taste for music closely follows musicians who have talent and not necessarily the type of music played. I now listen to country and bluegrass music more that any other type of music. That was unthinkable in my youth, but when I see Brad Paisley or Keith Urban play their guitars, I know where the rock music of my youth is now played. When I see the talent of Alison Kraus and Union Station, or The Greencards, I don't think of it as bluegrass. I am simply entertained by the skill of the dedicated musicians.

What I listen to hasn't really changed that much over the years. There is very little difference between the music of the Grateful Dead and today's bluegrass. Jerry Garcia of the Grateful Dead cut at least 2 bluegrass albums late in his career. Today's bluegrass musician is a likely to play and old Grateful Dead song as something from Earl and Scruggs

Similarities between older rock music and today's country music can also be seen. One current concert TV show, Crossroads, points this out repeatedly. Taylor Swift blends in nicely with geriatric rockers, Def Leppard. Sugarland's Jennifer Nettles trades songs with Bon Jovi. If their music was that different, you would not be able to pull it off. I say, it's not that different.

If the musician has talent, I like to listen.

I Like to Watch

Just like the Peter Sellers line from the moving Being There, I like to watch too. I love TV. I would like to think that I only watch heady, sophisitcated fare, but my DVR would not agree. Among my series recordings are "My Name is Earl" (RIP), and Kath and Kim. But I am not ashamed.

My love affair with TV started in my early teens. I remember my first TV. It was a 9 inch black and white model that I bought with money earned on a paper route. The first night I owned it, I stayed up late and watch the classic mafia movie "The Black Hand". I don't remember what my second TV was, but I owned it in my latter teens when other interests seem to dominate the male mind.


Once Terri and I married, I began purchasing a string of progressively better TV sets. We quickly abandoned the 13 inch color set Terri brought to the marriage for a new 25 inch color console. We were living the high life.


Next was a 20 inch set with stereo audio. I sacrificed picture area for better sound. It was also the first TV we owned that had a remote control and the first connected to cable TV.


For my 30th birthday, Terri bought me a massive 30 inch monster. The thing weighed over 100 lbs. Carrying that thing in the house was the cause of a double hernia I had repaired. We recently gave that set away to a friend. After the digital transition and with prices for flat screens dropping, those old dinosaurs have little value.

The next set was a 45 inch rear projection TV. It was large, but picture quality was poor. We only kept that one a few years before giving it away. I think my daughter sold it on eBay for $75. I am surprised she got that much.

It was at this point that I became a TV collector. My first HDTV was a 60 inch Sony DLP. Sony sure makes good stuff. The 1080p picture is still the best in the house. Neighbors would tell me that when they pulled into my driveway, it was like parking at the drive in theatre.

My next set was a 42 inch plasma. We purchased it to fit the custom space over our fireplace. It was pre-wired for a flat screen, so we were required to buy one to install there. The next set was a 32 inch LCD screen for the bedroom. Our last purchase was a 50" plasma to replace the screen over the fireplace. It seems that we did not leverage the entire space well enough with the 42 inch, so that is now fixed.

As much as I love TV, I like browsing the TV section of electronics stores just as much. I rarely miss an opportunity to see what the new models look like, and are priced at. The new LED screens have caught my eye. Maybe Terri would like one for her Christmas present. I was also impressed that you can now get refrigerators with flat screens built in. There is another idea.

You may think that 4 flat screens (and 2 non-digital TVs) would be overkill in a 3 bedroom house with 2 occupants. I think not. After all, both bathrooms, one bedroom, the garage, patio and storage areas are still without screens. I would admit that putting a TV in the storage area would be extreme, (I can always move a set there when I need to).

I think you know what I will be doing tonight. Yes, watching TV. COPS and NASCAR will compete for my attention. Terri wants to see a pay per view movie. Don't worry, we will work it out.

You need to understand that TVs don't watch themselves. Somebody had to do it.

Don't use the customer's bathroom

I don't know why I thought of it, but I recalled a funny story yesterday and decided to share it. The story relates to guys and peeing, and how we are less inhibited and better equipped than women to pee when and where we want. My grandson is a great example. He feels it is just as appropriate to pee off the deck into their backyard as it is to use a restroom.

So the story starts in a former job. I worked for a cable TV company as a technician. Finding suitable restrooms was always a challenge for guys like us. There is not always a McDonald's or Quik Trip around the corner, so we would find ingenious ways to find relief without attracting attention. It is amazing how a guy can pee in plain sight, 25 foot up a telephone pole, or on a busy street while searching for a tool in the bins of a work truck, without anyone knowing.

A co-worker of mine had a different experience. He found himself pulling cable TV lines through the attic of a customer's home when the effects of the supersized Coke from lunch hit. The cable company we worked for discouraged the practice of using customer's bathrooms. I can understand this for some body functions that might leave a telltale odor for minutes or hours. But peeing? It seems like that shouldn't unreasonably offend the homeowner.

What should he do? He would lose 30 minutes of the work day if he were to climb down, get in his truck, find a public restroom, return, and get back up to the job. Asking to use the customer's bathroom was considered bad practice, so my co-worker looked for other possible solutions. And there in the corner of the attic was his solution. He spotted an empty soda bottle. What a elegant solution. Pee in the bottle, carefully place it back where he found it, and get back to work. He would not lose any time, and not need to offend the customer by using their bathroom. Over time the urine would evaporate and nobody would be the wiser.

Attics can be dangerous places as my co-worker found out. Just as he found relief, his foot slipped off the ceiling joist he was standing on, and down through the sheetrock he fell. He fell into the customer's kitchen, where the lady of the house was starting to prepare the family dinner. In one hand he had a bottle of urine and in the other his manhood.

Do you think the customer would have been more or less offended by a request to use their bathroom?

My father

On July 3rd, my parents would have celebrated their 55th wedding anniversary. There was not celebration because my father passed away on October 3rd, 2005. It seems like a lifetime has passed since we celebrated their 50th anniversary in Sunrise Beach, Missouri. It was at their 50th celebration that I noticed his health was beginning to fail.

He began to get frail. His walk turned into a shuffle. He had difficulty getting into a car or out of a chair. In late September, 2005 he caught pneumonia. After a week in the hospital, he convinced the doctor to release him. Within a couple days he was back in the hospital suffering from labored breathing. His pneumonia had progressed to Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome (ARDS). He dies peacefully 8 days later.

For those into numbers, my father was born on 3/10 and died on 10/3. July third, October 3 and March 10th, Thanksgiving and Christmas are among the dates that always bring him to my mind. He was a great father, and I do miss him.

When he died, I felt that I no longer had wise soul to bounce my thoughts off, or ask advice. A part of my support system was gone. We did not speak often before he died. We would usually have a phone conversation every month or two. It was enough to keep him current on the family events. He always asked when we would come to see him. Those visits were rare. We were able to introduce him to his great granddaughter, Madison, on one of our last visits.

At his funeral, I delivered the Eulogy. Although I dreaded that task at first, I prepared well and found it was far easier to deliver that I thought that it could be. The preparation had forced me to deal with his death and I found closure. The knowledge of our faith comforted me. The text of the eulogy follows.

Frank Thomas Bryant, Sr. – Eulogy delivered by his son on October 7th, 2005

Today I invite you to a time of celebration. We celebrate my father’s completed journey - a journey filled with many milestones - among them, birth, childhood, adolescence, maturity, marriage, fatherhood, grand fatherhood, retirement, great-grand fatherhood, death, and finally, eternity.

His family and friends will miss him, and because of our loss, we will today shed tears. But still, we celebrate because we know where he is. We celebrate because we know he is no longer burdened by physical challenges. We celebrate because we will see him again him one day. Today I invite you to celebrate a life well lived.

Let me begin by describing my father through the eyes of his son. By the world’s standards, he was a very average man. He was not a distinguished leader in the workplace or the community. There will be no buildings, bridges, roads or parks that will bear his name. He did not invent a machine that will change our lives, or make a discovery that will be recorded in history. But through the eyes of his son, he will be remembered as a great man.

I will always remember my father as a kind, generous and gentle man. Harsh words were never a part of his character. Helpfulness was. I could not help but notice that throughout his adult life, he always served in the church as a deacon, an usher, or on a committee. Whenever there was a call for volunteers, he was ready and willing.

I still see my father as a physically strong man. While in his 30’s, he excavated the foundation for an addition to our house, by hand – he then built that addition after working full shifts at Proctor and Gamble. In his 50’s, he re-roofed that same house during the heat of summer. In his 60’s, he painted his lake house, climbing tall extension ladders to reach the high points. Until his recent illness, he continued to take on and complete projects around the house. My father was never someone who avoided hard work.

I remember my father as a man who was always there for the family. He was an early riser, usually leaving for work before I got up for school. He would then be home in the late afternoon – earlier than most fathers. I remember there was always plenty of time to play catch in the backyard, or a game of horse at the basketball goal.

My father was there to see my baseball and football games. He was there as a Boy Scout leader, at troop meetings, and on camp outs. He was there to endure the grade school band concerts.

Through the eyes of his son, my father was a great man.


Last weekend I sat by my father’s hospital bed with my daughter. She described a fond memory of her grandpa rescuing her from the daycare routine. They would go for a ride, which usually ended up at a Quick Trip for a frozen Koolee. That exclusive granddaughter, grandfather one-on-one time let her know that she was extra special in his eyes. Through the eyes of a granddaughter, so was he.

My brothers and sisters remember how our father loved a good meal. Holidays were a time when the family gathered for meals. Trips to the lake were also used as a reason for dinners at the B&P Barbecue Pit, or another restaurant around the Lake of the Ozarks. Our father usually topped off a good meal with a nap in his easy chair, where soon he would be snoring.

Every year, just before Christmas, we remember that our father would head for the kitchen where he was quite an accomplished candy maker. After creating his specialties - peanut clusters, peppermint bark, peanut butter balls, and the most wonderful English toffee you have ever tasted - he would then distribute the bags of the candy to family and friends throughout the Christmas season.

My sisters remember how our father would make sure they each had a corsage to wear to church on Easter Sunday. This tradition started as a surprise, but after a couple years became expected.

My brother and sisters remember how our father enjoyed coffee at any time of the day. We always enjoyed sitting with him on the deck of his lake house, sipping coffee early in the morning or late at night. Very few words were ever said as we just watched the water and listened to the lake sounds.

Through the eyes of my brothers and sisters, my father was a great man.


My father was a man of character. His father built this character - sometimes at the end of a hickory stick. My father knew that a spanking at school meant another one when he got home. But he later stated that he never got a spanking that he didn't deserved. Neither did I.

My father told us of a time in his childhood when he referred to a man using a cruel name. His father took him to that man and made him apologize. My father remembered how embarrassed he was to make that apology – something that stuck with him throughout his life.

My father told us of a time when he stole 2 cents worth of candy. His father took him to the store to repay the owner and apologize. My father endured the shame and became a better person for it.

These are a few of the events that shaped my father’s character. He believed that lies were always lies, the truth was always the truth, right was right, and wrong was wrong. Relativism was not an acceptable concept. My father worked to instill these same values in his children.

Now I would like to address my brothers - Cliff and Don, and my sisters - Julie and Lori. We have all witnessed the character of our father, and benefited from his gentle nature and generosity. We cannot ignore his example.

Our father leaves behind his wife. We must attempt to fill the void in her life. Our mother needs our company and our help.

Our father leaves us, his 5 children, behind. We must ensure that his memory is preserved, and that his values live on within our families.

Our father leaves behind 14 grandchildren. We must continue to build character and instill values within them, just as our father and grandfather did in theirs.

Our father leaves behind 2 great-grandchildren. If we are successful parents, we will see our father’s character in them also.

Our father has left his mark on this world. He did so by tending to his only possessions that have eternal value. Our father’s legacy is now ours.


So on this day of celebration, I am happy.
I am happy that I was blessed with a kind and gentle father.
I am happy that my father was so much a part of my childhood.
I am happy that my father taught character and values by example.
I am happy that my family blessed my father with grandchildren, and that his grandchildren will remember him.
I am happy that my father lived to see his 50th wedding anniversary and celebrate it with his bride.
I am happy that my father became a great-grandfather, and was able to celebrate his great-granddaughter’s first birthday.
I am happy and proud to carry his name.

In closing, I would like to share the lyrics of a song that has provided comfort to me during these last few weeks. I do not believe my father ever heard the song, but I am confident this would be his message to us on this day.

When I get where I'm going

On the far side of the sky

The first thing that I'm gonna do Is spread my wings and fly

I'm gonna land beside a lion

And run my fingers through his mane

Or I might find out what it's like

To ride a drop of rain

I'm gonna walk with my grand daddy

And he'll match me step for step

And I'll tell him how I missed him

Every minute since he left
When I get where I'm going

There'll be only happy tears

I will shed the sins and struggles I have carried all these years

And I'll leave my heart wide open

I will love and have no fear

When I get where I'm going

And I see my maker's face

I'll stand forever in the light Of his amazing grace
When I get where I'm going
Don’t cry for me down here

Job Interviewing

In my current position, I have interviewed hundreds of candidates for various open positions on my team. In all the hires I have made, I consider only 2 as mistakes. I believe the job interview is the place when the candidate will tell you 99% of what you need to know to make a hiring decision. The interviewer must craft their questions well, and listen carefully. When executed correctly, the candidate will tell you if they are a good fit on your team.


I always like to start the interview with a harmless sounding question like "tell me your story, what are you interested in, what do you do when you are not at work? It can start with I was born as an infant, and end with how you travelled to this interview. Fill in the rest". My intent is to get the candidate started with something easy that will make them comfortable. There is no chance they will offer up their interest in pedophilia, or augmenting their income through petty larceny. But as they describe their interests, I tune into references to family and friends. I want the employees on my team to be grounded with a support structure. I also become wary if they are not willing to share their interests. After all, we all have interests. Watching TV is an interest I can even related to. If a person is not willing to share interests, you have to wonder what they are up to.


At some point early in the interview, I ask how they have been evaluated in their current or past positions. The question seems innocuous and I normally get honest answers, especially when interviewing internal hires. They know that one call to HR will reveal the truth. Most applicants respond that they were rated 2 or 3 on a 5 point scale, 1 being the highest. I then move on to other questions.


Later in the interview, I follow up with a question about how many people have roughly the same role on their current team. If they have 3 or more peers, I ask how they would compare themselves to their peers. Invariably they respond that they are the best or in the top 2-3 contributors on their team. I will then ask how they square their self-assessment with the average evaluation provided by former bosses.


If I am interviewing a poor candidate, this is the point they tell you take a pass on them. I have seen multiple candidates melt down with explanations of favoritism, office politics, or a stupid boss as the reasons for the discrepancy. A good candidate will either assess themselves based on evaluation feedback from past bosses, or build up the abilities of their current team and peers.


The single most important part of an interview to me is to listen to how the candidate describes their past accomplishments. It is difficult, time consuming, and nearly impossible to check out every interview or resume claim, but if a candidate can describe their accomplishments with excitement and pride, they are probably telling you the truth.


It is also during this time I look for the "twinkle in their eye" that tells you they understand why the accomplishment was important and indicates a competency at the job. I would rather have a slightly under qualified employee that has bought into a bigger picture than a completely qualified employee that mails it in every day.


My best example was a hire I made in 1999. In order to mitigate potential risk, I opened a position as a contractor spot, but interviewed candidates as if I would eventually hire them full time. I learned early that hiring a bad contractor could be remedied immediately, while a bad employee hire can be with you for years. Of all the candidates I interviewed for the new position, the man I hired had the thinnest resume and admitted that he could not perform in the role without training. I hired him simply based on his enthusiasm and his ability to quickly pick up on why the job was important to my team's goals. He was not qualified to do the job, but convinced me that he would put forth the required effort.

I brought this candidate on as a contractor and he performed so well that I hired him to my staff 6 months later. He quickly learned the technical aspects of the role, worked hard, established processes to govern the assignment, met every deliverable given him, and excelled beyond anything I could have expected based on his resume. After working for me one year, this individual applied for an engineering job in a peer team. I spoke to that hiring manager and shared my thoughts. I gave my guy good marks for enthusiasm and execution, but mentioned that he was not a qualified engineer at this point in his career.


My guy must have made a good impression on the peer hiring manager because he got the job. I checked back a few months later to see how he was doing. Not only was he meeting expectations, the engineering manager said that all high priority, short time frame projects were given to my guy because he was tenacious and delivered when established engineers would not.


The only canned interview question I ask is "what do you want to be doing in 5 years". The answer I am looking for is different based on the specific job. If the job is a highly technical position, I want the candidate to tell me that their goal is to be the most competent person on my staff in 5 years. The last thing I need is to hire a subject matter expert whose goal is to leave my team. If the role is more a general staff position, I am fine with an answer that indicates movement into leadership roles within the company. I want my staff positions to assume leadership roles in the projects they are assigned.

The worst interview candidate I have ever spoke with was a woman, approximately 40 years old, who applied for a administrative assistant position on my team. She was a 10+ year veteran of the company and had spent those years in the procurement division, mostly processing purchase orders and invoices. Her demeanor through out the entire interview made me wonder if she had been given a lobotomy. Her responses were completely emotionless, deadpan, and dry. She offered no information unless prodded by a question. When asked about her expertise with Microsoft Office products, she indicated a proficiency. That was good, since the job required a working knowledge of Word and Excel. When pressed on her abilities at entering formulas into Excel cells, she replied "I mainly like to type stuff into the boxes. I don't do formulas. I really don't like details like that". She did not get the job.