I saw him give the man $20.
But, why?
“Pay special attention to the kid,” he muttered to the young man wearing rubber pants.
Why did he just hand that man $20, and try to hide it from me?
I was 10 years old, and my Uncle Irv was taking me for the first time, on one of his weekly trips, to go deep sea fishing – in Point Pleasant, NJ.
We had a prime spot in the back of the boat. Camped out, on the Norma K.
The boat left at 7am, but here we were at 6am, ready to go --- sitting and waiting as grizzled old men came on with all their equipment, coolers, rods, and big bodies.
He knew almost all of them. He exchanged greetings with nearly all of the old-timers as they entered the boat.
I thought it was some kind of “fishing fraternity” that one day I would be lucky enough to be included in.
A man came by, and my Uncle handed him ANOTHER $10, but why?
“Uncle Irv, why did you just hand that man $10?” I asked.
“Andrew, we are in the pool, and the money goes to the person on the boat that catches the biggest fish.”
That day, my very first day fishing --- I won the pool.
The mates who worked on the Norma K boat, were by my side most of the day. My lines that day never got tangled with other fisherman, and my fishing rod was always in the perfect spot – the nets (to grab the fish) were always right near me – and the coaching from the Captain up on the deck --- was seemingly just behind my ear.
“Boy, jiggle the pole a little bit --- let it sit on the bottom, and every 10 seconds give it a little tug”
I caught a big old fluke – my very first time catching a fish.
I was hooked, and so was the fish.
As I pocketed the $90 – I was incredibly full of myself --I was thrilled, and I really felt in my heart that I was a good -- no I was a GREAT fisherman.
Truth is, I wasn’t.
“Andrew, you need to give some of that money to the mates, who helped you today” --- my Uncle blurted out to me, as we were preparing to get off the boat.
“What do you mean, that’s MY MONEY” I replied – as if I knew more than him. He made no sense.
He then proceeded to tell me, and more importantly show me --- just how important that act of, thankfulness, acknowledgment – and generosity can be.
“Andrew, you would not have won that money – had those mates not made your day enjoyable – through teaching – assisting you, and being positive…..they made the day fun for you – and gave you special attention.”
And he went on – “because of them, you won that money – and never forget it.”
I gave the mates $40 out of my pool winnings -- and still came home with $50 – a tidy sum for a 10 year old – who only understood money via a paper route – where you could make $3 a week. I had never given $40 to anyone before (my money) – it seemed like a lot to hand over – but I did it.
Fishing with my Uncle Irv became a monthly event from the time I was 10, until I went to college……and then it stopped.
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Her ashtray was filled. It smelled in her office.
Her voice sounded like she ate gravel for breakfast.
She was a small woman, who could make anyone in her presence seem to shrink in size and stature. She was small, but dwarfed all who she came in contact with.
She raised her voice when needed – and she demanded respect.
“You will be at my office Sunday morning at 7am – and work until the job is complete.” Her eyes never left the document she was reading. She spoke to the paper in her hand, but directed her words at me.
I said, “Of course I will.”
She made me work hard – and I was rewarded like never before.
I earned her trust – and for that --- I always felt like, and believed that I could not let her down.
“Andrew, don’t forget why you are here – you are here because I believe in YOU. You can and will do, great things."
Those words, drew me closer to her. Those words – made me a fan, a follower, and she held in my eyes almost cult like status.
Some other people that worked for her bad-mouthed her behind her back.
She changed my life, and earned my lifelong loyalty.
The year was 1997, and I was working on a large project. She was the leader of a massive (one of the worlds largest at the time) document projects.
It was Christmas – and she made her staff (including me) come to work – on Christmas Day – because the deadline for the project was the December 27th – and the work needed to be completed in the next 2 days.
People worked double shifts.
There is something uniquely bonding in a weird way about working on a holiday. Regardless of religion – it’s a bonding, and perhaps even a relationship building experience -- (that I don’t recommend) but it will surely make you closer to your co-workers, like few other team building events.
As we ended the double shift on Christmas night – she had the 20 or so people come stand outside her office, and thanked each of them.
“I will pay each of you back with MORE than money. I thank each of you for helping us to finish this project – and for your support and dedication to our company – and your job.”
As I walked down 6th Ave in the cold December night, I felt good.
The streets of NYC were eerily empty on that Christmas night.
I had energy. More good energy than I should, or deserved.
******************************************************************************************
I was screaming, “Take it out – rip it out…”
I was drinking Tequila straight from the bottle as I was lying on my stomach, face first on a kitchen table -- in the galley of the boat.
It was Summer of 1992, I was in San Diego on a fishing boat, and the extremely drunk guy fishing next to me, went to throw his big hook over the side – but instead put the 8 inch hook into my back – a quarter inch from my spine.
The hook got lodged deep in my back – and he tried yank it quickly – using his rod, not knowing at that moment that the hook was under my skin.
It went in deeper.
I was in so much pain, and bleeding everywhere, that I was nearly in shock.
Everyone who tried to pull it out had comments, like “Ugggh, that looks bad, really bad, we need to cut this trip short and go back to land.”
“He is gonna need a lot of stiches, and perhaps surgery to get the hook out.”
A hook has barbed wires. The barb was lodged 2-3 inches under the skin. MY SKIN.
I got off the boat, and went to the hospital.
It took 26 stiches, both "under the skin" and next to my spine to close the wound.
The mate from the fishing boat drove me to the hospital, as soon as the boat docked.
The mate, stayed with me -- and drove me home, and constantly called, and brought over food, while I healed.
Lee changed my bandages, and put anti infection medicine on my wound.
My family was 3000 miles away.
He was a stranger, but that fishing mate named Lee, helped me.
I won the pool.
The $40 tip I gave to the mates on the Norma K fishing boat, when I won the pool that day with my Uncle -- paid dividends down the road.
Far more than I deserved.
In every way.
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