What is one of the most expensive things that you've ever bought for yourself?

There really are not all that many things that I would consider expensive that I’ve bought solely for myself; most of those I’ve either shared with someone or bought for someone else.  But I think the purchase that best answers the question was my 1997 Pontiac Firebird.  It was just the base model with a 200 horsepower V-6 engine, 5-speed manual transmission and silver paint job.  I bought it from the now-closed Rodgers Pontiac on South Main Street in Dayton, Ohio, and the test drive was memorable, at least for the salesman.  We took it out and I headed over to I-75 to feel how it handled on the highway.  But instead of gunning the engine as the salesman expected, I just smoothly merged and went a few miles at the speed limit.  I really just wanted to test the car for comfort, but I guess most forty-year-old men looking at buying a sports car are having a midlife crisis and want to feel the power.  That wasn’t me.  I found the Firebird’s seats to be extremely comfortable and that sold me.  

The best feature of the car was its t-top roof.  You released a latch on each side, removed each half and stored them in the trunk.  It made the car look and feel like a convertible and I got quite a few “cool car” comments.  One of my favorite Friday summertime habits was cutting a cigar at work around 3:00 pm.  After gnawing on it for a couple hours, I’d leave work, light up as soon as I left the building and walked to the Firebird.  I’d put the t-tops in the trunk and enjoy a nice ride in the country, puffing all the way home.  

While most cars I bought were shared in one fashion or another, only I drove the Firebird.  Not because I was selfish, but no one else knew how to drive a stick.  That made it exclusively mine, and it remains the favorite car I’ve ever had.  

Thinking back, what do you admire most about your mother?

My mother grew up in a family with three sisters, two older and one younger, and a brother four years her senior.  She lost her Mom when she was just twenty-four years old, still three years away from marrying my Dad.  They would have four boys and one girl over a ten-year period, which included two miscarriages.  She was an accountant and an aspiring actress and gave up both to raise her family.  Being way more familiar with being around girls, I imagine raising four boys was so very different and I’m glad she had at least my sister as a female companion.  She passed away a few months after my two youngest brothers graduated college and Dad retired from General Motors.  We had Christmas in 1985 together, never imagining it would be our last, and she slipped into a coma before New Year's Eve.  We stayed with her in the hospital and she never woke up.  Late on Sunday, January 5th we left, needing to get ready for work on Monday.  It was so like Mom not to want to be a bother to anyone.  She waited until she was alone to pass away.  People told me that she had an express lane to heaven, that’s how nice and sweet she was.  I couldn’t agree more.  I lost my Dad on July 25, 1989, just three and a half years later.  Not many people lose both of their parents by the time they’re thirty-three years old, and I envy those children that have their parents to talk to way later in life. 

Later, as I became a father and like many others look to their parent's voices, living or deceased, for guidance, I reflected on what my parents taught me.  It’s almost impossible to recall specific events over three decades, but after I pondered for a while, I boiled all their parenting into two themes.  My father taught me to be responsible, to keep promises, respect others and understand the consequences of my actions.  My mother, and to answer the question posed, taught me to be happy.  Not specifically the how’s or what’s, but that I had to consider that my choices could not always be selfless, that some of the things I did had to be what I wanted and that I had to find the right balance in life that would make me both happy and responsible.  My parents never specifically said it this way, but that’s what they did and why I admire them so much.  Their own sense of values and morality was worth far more than any expert’s book.

Being responsible is the collection of actions that guide your choices when it comes to dealing with others.  Being happy is the collection of actions that guide your choices when it comes to dealing with yourself.  Taken together they form the twin goalposts for my life.  So while their time on earth was relatively short, and I miss them dearly, I was so very fortunate that they were my parents.

Tell me about your college graduation. Did you attend? What do you remember about the setting, the people, and the experience?

I graduated from college, Summa Cum Laude, at the end of the Summer quarter of 1980, or six years after my start in September of 1974.  I did not attend the graduation ceremony for a number of reasons.  

First, I really don’t like graduations or other similar celebrations.  I had to attend my high school graduation for the sake of my parents but skipped the party afterward in favor of going to the “Bus” campsite.  School was not where most of my social interaction occurred and I never developed an affinity to high school.  It was simply, for the most part, a place to get an education.  Running track was the only sport I played and even as people may view it as a team sport, it’s really a group of unrelated events, except a few relays, so if a couple of other teammates also ran my event, the two-mile, we only saw each other at the beginning and end of the race.  

High school was also complicated by the 1973 merger of my all-male Chaminade and the all-female Julienne, replacing the laid-back culture of Chaminade with the confusing and frustrating regiment brought by the nuns of Julienne.  While they might, or might not, have a good understanding of teaching girls, they failed miserably at relating to boys and our more aggressive nature.  To say my senior year at Chaminade-Julienne was rough is an understatement and I couldn’t wait to get out of there.  Giving the nuns the satisfaction of my presence at the post-party was not going to happen.

Second, attending a college commencement after six-plus years meant that I would know absolutely no one, as the class that started alongside me in 1974 had either graduated or quit long before 1980.  Large graduations always occur after the Spring quarter, and a Fall ceremony would have far fewer graduates.  Getting a diploma in front of a small and unfamiliar group made no sense.  I was happy to just receive it in the mail.

Finally, by the time I graduated I had been working full-time for over three years, first at Wright State University and then Hobart Corporation.  I had been married for over a year, had a wonderful, brand-new darling daughter, and was fighting a court battle to get my wife’s son from her parents.  Yes, that’s as weird as it sounds.  So graduation for most is an ending of school and a beginning of a job search and it’s a good time to reflect on the past and imagine the future.  Since I was already well past all that, what was the point of spending some money for a cap and gown, pretending to be excited about an event that held no real meaning for me?

What's a small decision you made that ended up having a big impact on your life?

I joined The Mead Corporation in 1981 as they expanded their Technical Services group.  My role for the first year-plus was mainly being a backup as all the major areas had senior people already in place.  That made me more easily available for other assignments and perhaps that helped as this story unfolds.  

John Langenbahn had just become CIO and in 1982 he and the executive management decided to merge the Cincinnati data center, which housed three board-focused divisions, into the Dayton data center, instead of buying them a new million-dollar mainframe.  The project was announced on a Friday in Dayton with a follow-up meeting scheduled for the following Friday in Cincinnati.

After the first meeting I mentioned to somebody that it would be cool to lead the project, so my small decision was to speak up.  But being the new kid, and all of 27 years old, I never thought anything would actually come of it.  The following week as we converged in Cincinnati, one of the managers congratulated me as they had heard I was going to be leading the project.  I told them that I hadn't heard that, but I was gung-ho to do it.  During the first part of the meeting, I was announced as the leader.  I have no idea why my boss or his boss didn’t tell me, or even ask me, prior to the meeting.  Over the next three months and working crazy numbers of hours, we successfully moved the three divisions, one per weekend, to Dayton with minimal issues.  

A few weeks after the project was finished I and my right-hand guy on the project were called up to the CIO’s office.  We were sweating bullets as we rode the elevator to the 25th floor along with our boss and his boss, wondering why the CIO wanted to see us.  Had we screwed up something and were going to get our asses chewed off?  We were relieved to find out that he just wanted to thank us and give us a spot bonus of a couple of thousand dollars, a big deal back then.  I think we were happier that we just weren’t in trouble. 

I believe that leading such an important project was the initial catapult to the rest of my career.  Shortly after I was promoted to Section Manager, later to Network Services Manager, then ERP Director and Chief Technology Officer when Mead and Westvaco merged.  Without this opportunity, I might have just stayed a happy technologist, never entering the ranks of leadership. 

Maybe because I just decided to open my mouth, not realizing that the right person took me seriously, did my career take off.