With a Little Help from My Friends
November 27, 2022 at 7:53 a.m.
...by Bill Levine
This being a fun-loving, rather than Socratic, crowd, the wisdom-sharing evolved into more of a roast. A friend with a D.J personality read funny wisdom snippets from the internet, and another jabbed the birthday boy with Don Rickles type quips.
Then it was my turn to add a little sobriety to the proceedings by imparting a lesson I learned 56 years ago on the junior high basketball courts. I guess I would call my contribution, “It’s ok rely on ‘A Little Help From Friends.’”
Indeed, in 8th grade I was cut from the JV junior high team, only to be reinstated a couple of days later based a petition signed by friends who had made the cut. In part, my friends dared to petition because they saw me use my height to good advantage during the fall. Coach H. bought the testimonials of my friends that my ability, though clumsily displayed, was still ability. I was reinstated on the J.V club, which ultimately led to a Cinderella six-week apex of my adolescence the following winter, as a starter on our junior high’s championship varsity team.
I hesitated endorsing my friends proposed petition. Sure, I was devasted when my name was not on the team list, but I of course could have told them to forget it. I had the inclination that this would an embarrassment to me as a sore loser since “cut” means “cut.” But the fact that my basketball peers thought my being cut was outrageous gave me the confidence to greenlight the petition.
The greatest value of my 1965 J.V season was that after getting help from my friends, I could hang out with them 6 days a week – including practice, games and open gym on Saturday – all on our junior high courts. Secondly, I did gain respectability as a hoopster, even scoring 10 points in one game. My play was as recognized by Mr. R. the varsity coach so I looked forward to the next season.
In 1966, I parlayed the “help from my friends” into a peak adolescent event that still resonates with me. The sweet, indelible, memory of the six-week season revolved around the experience of winning the City JHS Championship with my friends, and enjoying a blessed reprieve from my athletic mediocrity
But this gift of my buddies’ middle-school petition didn’t boost me into a reflexive altruist who was always attuned to Hallmark card level helping opportunities, so it took 50 years for me to recognize a valuable helping opportunity.
In June of 2016, the hiring manager finished up our tele-interview by inviting me up for in-person visit to meet the team. For the first time in two years of job searching, I was not too old or too technically outdated.
This hiring manger was selling the job to me instead of the other way around! He could envision me fitting in perfectly his team of gray-haired mainframe/COBOL staff as a remote programmer. In addition, the business side was about producing commissions for financial product agents, my IT bailiwick for 30 years. All I had to do is show up in Concord NH, meet the guys, and accept a job offer.
Simple, right? Not really. The two roads diverged at that point, and I – at 65 and pensioned – went down the retirement path.
But my good friend, L, was not retired and looking for a job. He and I had worked for over 25 years, creating very similar resumes. He would be a shoo-in for the New Hampshire job. I excitedly called L. and informed him of the job opportunity that seemed to be a career match. He applied for the job and had an enjoyable remote work experience for the next five years. I was delighted that late in life I finally helped a friend big-time.
More importantly, I realized that I also did a ‘pay-it-forward’ deed that honored those scribbled names of that petition written on notebook paper that was handed in to Coach H. 56 years ago.
Bill Levine is an occasional contributor to Northwest Prime Time. Photo by Adine Storer
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