Wisdom Has a Price
When I was young,
my mother used to say, “If it’s too good to be true, it probably is.” Always the optimist, I shrugged it off as
parental nonsense and went about my life.
If someone said they were going to do something, I believed them. I always gave strangers the benefit of the
doubt. I would find out later in life
that there is a world of difference between optimism and wisdom. Optimism sees the good in all situations. Wisdom looks at circumstances and context, and
then makes a careful judgment. Denning
(2011) said, “Negative anomalies far outnumber positive ones. Hence, we learn more often from failures than
from successes” (p. 188). In short, when
it comes to wisdom, some things have to be learned the hard way.
Germany is a
beautiful country with wonderful people and I hated to leave. However, after three years stationed in southern
Germany, my family and I were assigned to Langley AFB in Virginia. July 1995 was one of the hottest summers on
record; and while I missed the sights and sounds of Deutschland, it felt good
to be back home. After settling down in
a small house in Newport News, an old Air Force colleague called in hopes of
getting together. Hearing I’d been back
from overseas for two months, he stopped by to visit and ask for a favor.
Pulling up to my
house, the first thing I noticed was his car.
At the time, my family had one car—a 1990 Chevrolet Cavalier. An efficient car. Very unfast.
Conversely, my friend drove a brand new,
1995 Nissan 300ZX. The Air Force was
sending him to California for a month and not trusting a parking garage, he asked
if I would watch his car while he was away.
Parked next to the Cavalier, my new 300ZX…err, wait, I mean his 300ZX looked like a space-age
automobile. Being a kind and generous
friend, I graciously agreed. After
dropping him off at the airport, I immediately settled into the driver’s seat
and headed to the car wash. For the next
thirty days, this car was mine. All
mine.
After washing the
car at a local do-it-yourself car wash, I pulled the 300ZX forward and began
drying it with a new chamois. Halfway
through the drying and shining, a white cargo van with only two windows pulled
up beside me. Two gentlemen quickly
exited the van and began asking me questions about “my” car. What year? How much did it cost? How fast have I driven it? Playing it cool, I smiled, threw some numbers
at them, and kept on drying. Finally,
one of the guys began to share with me how his current dilemma could greatly
benefit me. Two great opportunities in
one day! This was amazing!
After salivating
over the 300ZX, one of the men began explaining how they worked for a company
that installed “home theater speakers” in movie theaters, auditoriums, large
music halls, and studios. As he was
speaking, the other gentleman slid open the side door and displayed a van
chocked full of new speakers still secured in the box. Apparently, their company made a mistake and
ordered twice as many speakers as needed.
Therefore, they were looking to unload these speakers at a discount
price. As I held the laminated speaker
specifications, I quickly observed a price of $1,600 for a set. Washing a $30,000 sports car led these
salesmen to believe I carried that kind of cash in my wallet. As lie compounded lie, the charade deepened.
I told the men
that I did not have that kind of cash on me and there was no way I could afford
$1,600 on speakers. After bartering
back-and-forth for a few minutes, they finally asked, “How much can you get
today?” I told them the maximum amount
one can take from an ATM in a day is $300.
“It’s a deal!” he said as he shook my hand. On the way to my house, my excitement was
palpable. Back in the U.S. for only two
months and I’m driving a brand new sports car and just saved over $1,300 on home
stereo speakers. Things were really
looking up. Unfortunately, my wife didn’t
share my excitement.
“I don’t like it.
Something smells fishy about the whole thing.” On and on she went until finally
I responded, “Why can’t you be happy for us?”
After we dropped off the speakers, my two new friends followed me to the
ATM where I expediently withdrew $300.
Handing them the money and saying goodbye, I revved the engine and
headed home to hook up my new system. In
our small house, two large theater speakers would shake the windows. I couldn’t get home fast enough.
Positioning the
speakers in just the right place and rewiring my stereo for maximum effect, I asked
my wife to sit down and get ready to be “blown away!” Click: power on. We heard some noises…crackle…bzzzz...shhhhh…and
then some sound. No sonic waves. No rattling windows. In fact, they actually sounded worse than the
speakers I had. Fighting fear, anger,
and disappointment, I assumed something was wrong with my stereo. Maybe it wasn’t equipped to push a high level
of amperage through such massive speakers.
As my wife walked out of the room mumbling a few expletives under her
breath, I decided the next step was to take my stereo to an electronics store
for assistance. I planned to do that the
next day after I returned home from work.
As it turns out, I would not need an electrician. The six-o’clock news would suffice.
“Steve! Come in
here. You need to see this!” my wife exclaimed from the other room. Walking into the living room and seeing the
white cargo van on the television screen was surreal. I thought I was dreaming. Alveta Ewell from WAVY-10 explained: “Two men
have been caught running a local speaker scam throughout Hampton Roads.” As I sunk into the couch and sighed, my
previously optimistic worldview exhaled into the living room. I followed along with the news reporters and
opened the back of my speakers with a screwdriver. There was nothing but a few wires on one of
the small speakers. Outwardly, they
looked authentic. Inside, they were
empty, cheap, and hollow. Just like the
salesmen. Just like me.
I recently went on
the Internet and found there is a nationwide scam known as the “White Van
Speaker Scam.” In hindsight, the red
flags and ignorance are embarrassingly obvious.
Riding high with my friend’s car, I felt invincible. In Made to Stick, Chip and Dan Heath (2007)
said, “The story’s power is twofold: It provides simulation (knowledge about
how to act) and inspiration (motivation to act). Note that both benefits, simulation and
inspiration, are geared to generating action”
(p. 206). In the forty-eight hours from
the time my friend called and Alveeta reported, I learned three valuable
lessons.
First, integrity
trumps a good deal. If something appears
shady, stick with your inner compass.
Mom was right. If it looks too
good to be true, it probably is.
Secondly, listen to wise council.
Friends and family can see things where our emotions blind us. Finally, be yourself. Sports cars and sound systems are shallow
definitions of masculinity. Remember: Having the
courage to share our embarrassing stories may save another person a lot of
heartache. As Denning (2011) stated, “Listening
to stories isn’t merely entertainment: it leads to the acquisition of vicarious
experience by those participating” (p. 193).
If that’s the case, file this story in your memory bank and be wary of
white vans filled with speakers.
Legacy learns.
Steve
Reference:
Denning, S. (2011). The Leader’s Guide to Storytelling. San
Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass.
Heath, D., & Heath, C. (2007). Made to Stick. New York, NY: Random
House.
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