Hello all.

Here are this week's notes.

From me: Rainy days

I called him Big Mike, and he called me Stick Boy. Affectionate nicknames exchanged between a man whose son was also named Mike and a 19-year-old kid sporting teenage male structure encompassed only by skin.

He owned a Chevrolet dealership in a small town and was a man I did business with. The dealership had been in his family since the 1940s or 50's.

Mike would stroll through the parking lot with me, offering philosophical wisdom, often acting as a mentor, and frequently giving well-received guidance. If business was slow, I knew I could stop in and see Mike, and he would scrape up something for me to do. Big Mike liked me.

One day, on one of our strolls, Mike said something to me that stuck like glue. He said, "Stick Boy, you see, how I look at life and business is this: Big Mike never has a rainy day. That's just how I look at things. That's what I say to myself." He called it 'cocky confidence' making sure to differentiate from being a 'cocky asshole' which, in his words, was bad. I listened carefully.

A couple of years later, Big Mike brought his son into the business. Big Mike told me he was getting tired. That he wanted some help. Young Mike was to take over someday. The two worked side-by-side. Then some real things happened.

One night, Young Mike's wife came home to find him on the floor of their home. He had collapsed after playing a game of basketball. An underlying heart condition had taken his life. He was in his early 30's. Maybe 32 or 33. He left behind his wife, two small children, and Big Mike.

A year or so later, Big Mike lost his Chevrolet franchise. A result of the 2008 recession and General Motors' desire to weed out small family dealerships in favor of franchises with higher sales volume and modern storefronts. It would seem like nothing could go right for him. That despair was, in fact, his only reprieve.

I wondered what would happen to him. A man who seemingly had money but professed to love working with his own two hands. How could someone recover from such tragedy? He had lost his only son. His livelihood had been shattered like tempered glass.

I met Big Mike in 1999. His son died in 2009, and he lost Chevrolet in 2010. Today is October 13th, 2024. Big Mike is well into his 70's. He may be pushing 80 even. I am unsure. Mike is still selling cars under his family name. Pre-owned, not new, still going though, still with a positive attitude. Big Mike never has a rainy day.

--

On Substack: Everyone is numbing out - The dark side of ironic detachment and possible antidotes for our apathetic world

--

A quote:

--

:-)

--

Life Design: Everything Costs via Seth Godin

--

Interesting: The ‘Bias’ Bias: No, Your Brain is Not Made of Swiss Cheese​

--

Lastly, a question worth pondering: What makes you special?

As always, thanks for reading.

TTYS

Barry