A VALEDICTORY MESSAGE FROM MR. ENGAGEMENT

(Every Friday for the past four months, I have been honored and delighted to turn this space over to Mr. Engagement, one of the world’s leading authorities when it comes to Engagement and its related intangibles.  Alas, this is the last such contribution that Mr. Engagement will be making other than, perhaps, the occasional special guest appearance.  Below he explains what has brought him to this decision.  I will simply thank him for his contributions and wish him well as he goes forward to spread the good word. JG)

MR. ENGAGEMENT'S VALEDICTORY MESSAGE

Dear Readers:

Am I the only one who found it odd that all of the letters I got in this space came from business executives who had been members of those terrible NY Yankees teams of the mid-1960s?  Glad to see those fellas did better in business than they ever did on the ballfield.  Good Lord they were terrible.

Except for The Mick.  Now there was a real ballplayer.  He was on those terrible Yankee teams, but he was also on his last legs.  And even when things got tough for him, the only PED he ever used was all natural: scotch.  Then again, those were the days when men were men and livers were expendable.

All of my correspondents had something else in common as well.  They were all, to use the term of endearment that Mr. Engagement reserves for such cases, knuckleheads--willing to try any damn fool thing that came along as long as it would absolve them of the responsibility of doing the hard, pick-and-shovel work of their real jobs. 

It was the last letter I got that really put me over the edge.   From some Steinbrenner guy.  Here’s what he wrote:

Dear Mr. Engagement:

My family has had a history of appearing to be really hard-nosed.  But we’re not that way at all.  So I was wondering: What can I do to give my employees the sense that I really care about them?

Hal Steinbrenner, Principal Owner, Managing General Partner and Co-Chairman, the New York Yankees

I didn’t answer him, but if I had, it would have been something like this:  “Hey, numnutz.  Wanna give your employees the sense that you really care about them?  Care about them!"

So I’ve had enough.  I’m going to gas up the RV and, like the Albert Brooks character in “Lost in America”, drive across the country and “touch Indians.” I know I’m not supposed to say things like that, but that movie was made in 1985, and the rhythm of the joke is off if you say “touch Native Americans.”  If you’re offended by that, get over yourself.  

Or maybe I’ll pursue a lifelong dream and try to marry into the Kennedy family.  (Anybody know how things are going with Caroline and that Schlossberg fella?)

Anyway, see you around the bend.  Or not.  It’s all the same to me.

Yours in Othership,

Mr. Engagement