CDTalent Enterprises

Having watched a lot of the Little League World Series, I had to smile about one of the ESPN commentators making this observation last night.

The situation was Southwest team from (Lufkin,TX) was rolling over Conn. by about 12-2 at the time, after SW got 8 runs in bottom of first off three Conn. errors. A victory would cause a rematch for SW with the Southeast (Greenville, NC) team, which beat them 2-1 in 7 innings Wed. The nucleus of the comment was about the pitching of Matthew Matthijs, who simply took the air out of room on SW, striking out 12 of 14 he faced, including the last 11 batters of the game, with only *63* pitches.

THAT is just cockin’ and firin’ pitching.

The verdict was, how could you *possibly* take him out when he was pitching like that?

After enjoying the last of a small bag of succulent, chocolate covered strawberries generously sent home with me after a Sunday steak dinner, I‘m shot-gunning (topically, not literally) what came to me last night while watching Texas beat Michigan 5-1 at the Little League World Series.

That the Southwest team whacked back-to back-to back home runs in the 3^rd inning had everyone– including the announcers—jazzed. As a grownup, one might think the field isn’t actually that big, but as a participant, yanking one out IN THE WORLD SERIES isn’t something those young men will ever forget. Had to love the 3^rd base coach, giving skin to the kid who tomahawked a high hard one for final homer and saying, “Yeah, you oughta be smiling about that one!” especially since he’d just gotten into game as a pinch hitter.

Hell, I still remember the first play of my Pop Warner football career, under the lights at Saratoga. The center neglected to snap the ball on first sound as planned, but we came back to the huddle saying, “Hey, our helmets are better than theirs!” because when we fired off, the other guys sounded plastic-y.  I’ve never forgotten that Bob Massaroni was devastated he didn’t get to play because he was ¼ pound under the minimum. (Shout outs to other players Jim Schermerhorn, who expressed interest in the LLWS, Bob Houlihan, who I see on FB on a regular basis, and Steve Lussier, wherever he is.)

Since I‘m tripping down memory lane sports-wise:

• Going to my nephew Curtiss’ tee ball game (#4, above, with Dave walking behind him) and laughing with everyone else when batter hit a grounder right to him at first base and he couldn’t see it, because he had the glove in front of his face and didn’t take it away while moving head side to side.
• Brother Dave, after being told by scorekeepers that this was the 10^th batter, shocking the ladies by (kiddingly) saying, “Shhh, maybe we can sneak another one in.”
• Volunteering to umpire a game in flip flops and tank tee (plus the pad), calling my nephew Spencer out on a maybe wide third strike, after he told me during an injury time out that the previous strike hadn’t actually been in the strike zone. I’ll always chuckle about that one. At *no* point does telling ump he was wrong work out well.
• Several years later, I snapped a picture of Curtiss’ only hit of the season while on vacation in NY. He was thrown out at second by a mile moments later, because the next batter took a pitch when the hit-and-run was on.
• Nephew Ryan, coming in to pitch when his team was behind like 8-1, and holding other team down while our family– including my parents, his brothers, parents, dog, and eventually all his buddies from other games, because their game took so long– cheered as his team came back to win.
• Long ago interview with a Little League administrator, Circuit Judge Harry Fogle of Clearwater, FL, who felt participation meant actually playing. As a member of the International Rules Committee, he stumped long and hard for what became a tenet of the game, “because a kid doesn’t learn the value of an activity like baseball sitting on the bench, although it’s a different story later on.”
• Umpiring softball in Florida, and asking about ground rules for a particular stand-alone fence in left field, which was an HR, but could also be caught for an out. Second inquiry, about the usual 10-run ‘mercy rule’, one player said with a wink, “Yeah, but this is against the Methodists.”

On an unrelated front, I was impressed by the statue erected to Napoleon at Waterloo when my brother Steve and I were in Belgium for his exchange brother’s wedding long ago. It’s a lion with its paw on a small globe of the world, atop a 300-ft. high mound of earth that *definitely* stands out when almost all of Belgium is flat as a table.

You might recall Napoleon LOST at Waterloo, so I guess it meant enough to everyone else that they immortalized the event. (FYI, someone had just recently spray painted one side of the monument in protest.) My take on statues: Some are legit, and bless Gettysburg for standing firm on not taking any of theirs down. That particular three-day struggle of a battlefield is the epitome of what the Civil War meant to this country, capped by Lincoln’s immortal ‘Gettysburg Address’. Certainly not a tweet, but memorable to the max.

There’s no guarantee that yesterday’s walk-in interview was as ultimately successful as I would like, at least I haven’t heard ‘You’re the man!’ by 10 a.m. I presented my various abilities regarding the administrative-sales hybrid position I had learned about to the decision maker, and got a decently hearty handshake after 15-20 minutes of the owner-Boss Man’s time though, and that’s tough to beat nowadays. Ask any car salesman about two hours with a ‘one-legger’ who wants to discuss an incredible deal with the not-there wife about the difference.

The job-seeker who actually gets such an opportunity should 1) thank God, or whatever entity/Universal force they believe in, 2) lay out your best case as well and succinctly as possible, and 3) send a follow-up note (vs. an e-mail!) recapping some high points and acknowledging thanks for the time and chance to present yourself. Having gotten up close and personal attention, you *don’t* want to blow it because they’re too busy to check the inbox for two days, or an e- somehow goes into Spam folder. Many gurus will tell you this, believe it.

Having decided to drive 31 miles to take such a shot, after recruiter indicated he was kind of clueless about how to deal with ‘old school’ type—and probably my resume, because he’s essentially a millennial-aged IT and finance guy—I’m taking time after filling out another online form and sending a couple e-s in follow-up to companies from a job board to make a point.

The recession pretty much blew away the walk in a door-impress the Boss Man-get a job-become Successful scenario many probably saw in a movie, especially if 40 is anywhere on your radar. When sooo many were looking for ANY job, recruiting firms became the way to deny seekers access to the boss’ time. A certain frustration crops up daily knowing that, whatever your conglomeration of skills are, not being a super-techie, having zero chance at becoming a home run hitting sports legend, or (probably) winning the lottery, means having to rely on someone who might have been a twinkle in someone’s eye when you got a college degree near the end of last century.

‘Bob’ told me twice I presented myself well, and that he appreciated fact I’d been able to find his company’s front door. He asked questions and listened to answers—“I don’t see that on your resume,” “It doesn’t fit on one page. Expectation (if sent vs. presented) is there’s enough to raise your interest, then I’d hope to tailor extra information if we got an opportunity to meet,”– even if one or two indicated I lacked something pertinent. Having asked about his company’s ‘footprint’ (area worked in, which was 200 miles), been able to relate ABCs of skills to the reality of position he’d discussed with a recruiter, and told him enough about current website–‘no testimonials, but your competitor only has one, and its negative’, or the spot for a blog had a two year old date on it– showed a definitive interest on my part. It’s impossible to deny how powerful that is in person vs. anything else.

There’s more to do of course, because only one result counts in sales, and that’s someone signing something that equals agreement (and you get paid). For one day though, hell, even 20 minutes! it’s no problem to be happy about having a great chance to present Glenn Shorkey to an honest-to-God decision maker.

It’s 90-plus degrees in Charlotte, and the humidity is brutal, so I’m glad to have done all the yard work yesterday. At post-church donuts and juice today, I smiled while telling a couple youngsters that my Dad always said, “There’s no reason for me to worry how hot it is when I have four boys to cut the lawn.” He said the same thing about shoveling snow from the sidewalk and 150 ft. of driveway, but that’s a truth I didn’t bother to impart.

Being the only brother Dad’s size, I’ve made it a habit to wear something of his on a daily basis the last four years. I like his hounds tooth jacket, sometimes it’s a pair of well-stretched socks, often it’s one of many primarily green tee shirts. Mom didn’t think Dad looked good in green, so while he didn’t have green dress shirts, he loaded up on the tees.

His sneakers fit in my rat traps for cycling, and everyone has a pair of beaters to do the lawn with, so they got used at both work and play. Three weeks ago the toes came un-stitched while doing garden maintenance for the Missionaries of Charity (Mother Teresa’s group), and I brought a fistful of dirt into the house, so post-lawn cutting, Fathers Day became a good time to retire them, and some Adidas have stepped into the work role.

There will probably be ten million memories shared about fathers today. I was fortunate to have Waldo Francis Shorkey in my life until just after my 56^th birthday, and I was grateful when Mom gave me his ring, and my brother Mike found the band on his watch too small for his wrist.

The pen, ahhh! that was truly special. Once he was unable to handle bigger pieces of wood to make secretaries and such (a blue ribbon in the Florida State Fair) we gave him a drill press to make smaller projects, and on vacation in Tampa, I asked him to make one with me. It took me three hours over two days to create the curved, slightly fatter grip I desired, sand it with five progressively finer grains, then polish and wax it.

At the end, Dad stated, “Glenn, you’re the worst I ever worked with!  Ryan (my youngest nephew) would have done two pens in that time.” My answer: “I’ve never done anything like this before Dad, and all I wanted was to work on something with you and have a great souvenir of the event. I got what I wanted.”

As proud of that pen as I was, I must have lost it by letting a customer sign with it when I was working at Belk. Yes, dammit! for stupidity, but the memory of making will never fade either.

Its almost certain that I’m zeroed in on DTs attempt to grind US (my opinion, shared by many in lots of places in the world) into shambles through weird and vindictive methods. It seemed so reasonable (an inaccurate word for DT, but…) while catching ‘WATCHMEN’, a movie about superhero types.

Without going into entire story, the most gifted of the group financially & brain-wise, Ozymandias, offers the world FREE ENERGY as a result of his efforts in technology with another group member, Dr. Manhattan, who is an all-powerful, well, energy being (*serious* lab accident). It turns out, these major new plants are actually meant to blow up, killing many many millions. What this character wants, is to draw the world–specifically Russia-US which are teetering towards mutual destruction (movie is set in Vietnam era, includ. Nixon)– into a shared hate of ONE PERSON: the blue energy being.

Rich rich hero-type and, well, all-powerful, freaky blue energy-being, logically understand killing maybe 100 million in order to back away from mutually assured destruction of world is better choice.

Beyond the moral negative that a wave of his hand splat! and bloody scattering in the snow of an exceptionally vocal WATCHMAN– who insisted the world needs to know rich brain guy actually did unbelievable deed– the plan works out.

My premise: DT gets the hots for things from watching stuff on TV. He didn’t want to always just be the TV Fired Guy, and he proved he was better than a mess of other Repubs (shudder, Cruz). He must have seen this movie too, and wants the whooole world to know he’s going to do something amazing to them. All he needs is blue being’s cooperation for how to duplicate his energy, and after tweaking negatively, BOOM! the world becomes the world he sees as better.

Long way for the punch line, but destroying tens of millions of lives most of us know because he’s able to, just so more people know he’s The Bomb, that’s the same reasoning of that super-hero who ends up as maximum bad guy. In this explanation, Blue Power (Repubs) is given to ultimately evil-doer, who does worst kind of dirt to people everywhere, and they haven’t got a chance of stopping the big hits from coming.

This week was alllll about the physical effort, and while I’m satisfied about doing the deeds, equally important was getting paid, because economics-based changes from previous time priorities/activities is what I’m about right now. I’m committed to similar full-time effort– with likely overtime– for several more weeks; I’m also aware of the beating considerations coming for that creaky left liability of a knee…and workers comp. And y’know, there’s that uncool tug at the top of spine thing at times, too…

Yesterday I did a speaking engagement at a senior community that went very well for everyone, served up a third sauce and meatballs dinner for Charlotte Fire Department Station #14 crew, made a contribution to an autism walk, and today I’ll be clearing tables and schmoozing for maybe five hours with the crowd (we served almost 700 last year) that figures to attend my Men’s Club group’s annual fish fry. (Ed. Note: Stopping to pet the doggie, who probably wants to be let out.)

Which actually means nothing to the Universe in my pursuit of the $500,000 listing that would make me feel 90% better than having three much smaller potential buyers just getting into the credit application process, BUT…that doesn’t mean I’m backing off doing good.

It’s not that I wouldn’t luuuuuv to enjoy some anticipation of a commission check that would come with having such a house listed-sold-moving towards a closing date. The reality is, small moments of Goodness don’t usually translate into paychecks—SERVICE does. One of those smaller buyers just had a third child arrive, and they’re going to need a place with more room to raise a family. Two others survived those rough years of recession, when just staying close to paying bills was a legitimate goal, and those ooops! moments when they dipped under water because of a hospital bill or unfortunate decision are still part of their financial picture.

Getting a chunk of $500k, yes, that would improve my personal situation significantly. Getting on the phone, following up with, touching those who might become clients—or who KNOW OTHERS that might have need of my expertise– that counts a lot more than being nice to the dog though.

Last night, I met ‘the brother’ (fire fighters are clearly a brotherhood) at #14 who is a successful ten-year realtor, and there is essentially one of those in every station, even if most aren’t at his level. If I’m lucky, the guys who agreed my meatballs were moist and delicious might speak well of me when home buying comes up at the next block party, because I *know* Eric won’t miss any opportunities from up close.

The Truth has always been that people don’t care how much you know, until they know how much you care. Those little old ladies who said my 40-minute talk was very interesting don’t have any houses to sell. Having recently written a Value Proposition I was proud of because it accurately reflected who I am and what I do, being True to those core values means walking the talk. It wouldn’t *HURT* if the Universe was paying attention, but…

As part of on-going Keller Williams training classes, yesterday I was asked to articulate my Value Proposition, that specific-personal rationale I bring to the challenges of my chosen career. I’ve said it often along the way, sharing it with potential clients, friends, and others now feels right.

People have often labeled me “a good talker,” and therefore a natural salesperson. Beyond a lot of jobs like scholastic fundraising or real estate negotiator for outdoor advertising (billboard leases) industry, I always qualified that as ‘really really good communicator’, because a core belief is that my interview-writing skills are a God-given Strength as well.

Nobody ever said I lacked skills in digging for facts while writing sports-business pieces-blogs, or in getting things done sales-wise. People like and trust me, and that includes when I’m focused and direct, like when I had 40 minutes to nail things down with a teacher about fundraising, or getting the cooperation of members during a Junior Chamber of Commerce project.

Doing the significant amount of Q&A necessary with real estate isn’t about interrogation, it’s 100% about developing the best possible understanding of what’s important to a client.

Two special areas of concentration for me are senior communities and fire fighters-veterans, because I feel that while people often give lip service to their importance, they don’t get any extra solid payoff on that. At one point, fire fighters helped my Dad and gave me another Christmas with him, and that alone makes me want to do more for them. Monthly spaghetti dinners is my thing, and nobody disses my meatballs.

SENIOR COMMUNITIES are a big deal for me: The Tampa, FL realtor and transition teams that made Mom’s move to Charlotte in 2015 almost totally stress-free set the standard for my personal effort when I got into real estate. The electronic signing of documents from 600 miles away, getting every receipt for things sold or donated, and her coming back from a trip to NY and having an apartment with all her furniture in place and pictures on the wall was, in a word, outstanding. I believe that her happiness– and the smooth completion of 101 other factors for us, the family– is what everyone wants for their parents.

People like and trust me, and that includes when I’m focused and direct, like when I had 40 minutes to nail things down with a teacher about fundraising

Buying or selling a home is stressful, and there are a lot of sometimes complex parts. As one sales guru—I think Zig Ziglar—says, “If you get others what they want, you’ll inevitably get what you want.” Enlightened self-interest is a legitimate economic goal, being of service the key. I get better with every experience and transaction, and I *know* I’m in the right place, a career that can challenge me for the next 10-12-15 years.

You should want my help on managing the important project that buying/selling a home constitutes.