Alan Fox

This may be a touchy subject.  The unsaid remainder of the question posed in the title could be, “…THAT I DON’T ALREADY CONSCIOUSLY RECOGNIZE”.

The answer leaping out from some previously secret psychological cavern near my heart is, “You’re a lot more sensitive than you let on, even to yourself.”

I don’t know whether to accept that truth about myself with gusto, stuff it back where it came from by ignoring it (is that possible?) or explore it further by writing about it.  The “writing about it” seems to be winning.  I’m remembering the writer who was asked by a reporter what he thought about winning the Nobel prize for literature.

“I don’t know,” the writer said.  “I haven’t written about it yet.”

But this particular truth about myself is a stubborn rascal and doesn’t want to be pulled out of its hidey hole.

Perhaps it’s because as a child, I was told “You’re too sensitive” once too often.  But that is like telling me I’m too short.  What action can I take to change something that is an intrinsic part of me?  Undergo a sensitivityectomy?  Wear shoes with thicker soles?

I think not.  We are who we are, I am who I am.  And yet, hopefully, there will always be someone who loves the way we are, even if it is only our mothers. And there will also be those who will criticize something about us, if only our spouses (except for Daveen – who never criticizes me).

The trick is to corral in your inner critic and refrain from allowing that inner voice tell you something negative about yourself.  Do not cede to your own worst enemy a perch of honor on your shoulder right next to your ear.

And yet, how do you refrain from criticizing yourself or repressing some inherent truth about yourself?

Maybe you can’t.  Perhaps I will always try to mask my sensitive nature and keep it hidden.  Or maybe I can follow my dad’s advice, “Be nice to yourself.”  Maybe I can let myself recognize that is who I am, and it is okay to acknowledge and accept it. In the words of Tevia from Fiddler on the Roof, would it spoil some “vast eternal plan” if I always believe I will do my best, rather than needing to win or to lose? Do I need to put a cap on my emotions so as not to appear too sensitive? Or do I embrace all parts of me – and allow myself to feel as sensitive as I really am?

I do not believe that life is a zero-sum game.  In fact, I believe that the more you win, the more I win.

And I know that each of us has unique strengths, challenges, and abilities.  And also, I hope, a bit of sensitivity.

Alan

In times past I would often dilute a “Thank you” with a comment that undermined my gratitude. “Thanks for dinner.  The mashed potatoes were almost as good as last time.”  While that might seem rude, I never intended it to be. I was certainly influenced by my father who was reluctant to ever pay me an unconditional compliment, lest I get a “big head” and stop trying.

Over the years I have learned to say a heartfelt “Thank you,” without adding any additional commentary that might detract.

In thinking back over this year, and others, I realize, I have a number of wholehearted thank you’s I’d like to share.  Additional commentary is only for elaboration – to expand on my gratitude – of which I have an abundance.

Thank you to Daveen.  You take such good care of me, and your love is clear and consistent.  You are the best life partner I could ever have, and I am grateful for your smile, your laughter, and your sense of humor.  And also for your incredible memory.

Thank you to the entire team at ACF.  Over the past weekend Stacie and Dayna organized the best annual meeting that ACF has ever had.  It is my pleasure to work daily with such a thoughtful, dedicated, and effective team.

Thank you to my family.  We always support each other in so many ways, both small and large.  Thank you for your time, your attention, and your love.

Thank you to Tim. You have expanded and improved our literary magazine Rattle far beyond the confines of my imagination.

Thank you to my mom.  I will always remember our conversations, my snacks, and the time we spent together every afternoon after I came home from school until we sat down for family dinner.

Thank you to my dad.  You taught me about handling money, being responsible, and you were a unique and surpassingly effective teacher both for me and for your many music students.

Thank you to my brother.  David. I will always remember your love and dedication in taking care of me, despite my taking advantage of you when we were young.  But what are younger brothers for?

Thank you to Nancy, for your love and friendship and for working together and supporting each other in achieving our goals ever since we met in a USC writing workshop more than 30 years ago.

Thank you to Professor Wicks, my contract professor in law school.  You called me into your office to tell me I had a lot of ability – but wasn’t working nearly to my potential.

Thank you to Dr. Leonard Ratner, my constitutional law professor.  You approved my required “extra credit” paper, even though we both knew it was a slap-dash effort, just in time for me to sit for the bar exam.

Thank you to all my teachers.  You are many, and often don’t receive nearly enough appreciation for all you do.

Thank you to Jim Leisner, managing partner at Peat Marwick, where I began my career.  You were the first to tell me that white socks were not exactly professional business attire.

Thank you to everyone else who should be on this list.  I hope you know who you are, and I am grateful beyond measure for your help along this often-challenging journey through life.

Thank you, dear readers, and best wishes to all.

Alan

Almost a century ago Henry Clay, a U.S. congressman, famously said, “I’d rather be right than be president.”  I don’t know if he was right, but he was never president.

Being “right” often comes down to having other people agree with you.  Most of us like to hear someone say, “You’re right,” because it’s both validating and comforting.  But other people agreeing with you might not always be in your best interest.

My father taught me to be a contrary thinker, especially in the stock market.  I still remember the day my dad asked his stockbroker at E.F. Hutton for research on a company named First Charter Financial.

“That’s a Savings and Loan company,” the broker said.  “We don’t follow that industry because there isn’t much investment interest.”

My dad smiled, thanked him, and bought 5,000 shares for $7.00 each.  Four years later Dad sold his stock for $28.00 a share.  His thinking was simple: buy when others are selling, then sell when others are eager to buy.

It can be difficult to resist social pressure.  I’ve never smoked, but when I was eleven, I found myself with two classmates who wanted me to try.  One of them, Larry Schall, took out a pack of cigarettes, and both of my companions began puffing away.  They offered one to me.  Did I take it?  Yes, I did, though I never actually inhaled. Instead, I pretended to inhale while exhaling through the cigarette.

Today, I’m better at resisting social pressure.  During the Thanksgiving holidays I attended three family dinner parties.  The food was delicious.  But through a lifestyle change I now weigh 80 pounds less than I did four years ago and I will never go back to eating more than I need, even at risk of offending my host.  I even left a little stuffing (aptly named) on my plate.

Thank goodness I only have one lunch appointment this week, and that’s at a Chinese restaurant (because, as many of you might imagine, I’m turkey-ed out).

I hope this Thanksgiving you were able to act in your own pragmatic best interests and didn’t succumb to that unhelpful need to have others think you’re right.  More importantly, I hope you were able to spend meaningful time connecting with family and friends and enjoyed yourself – and the leftovers are great.

Alan